AIMIM chief Asaduddin Owaisi, speaking in Kuwait and Bahrain as part of a parliamentary delegation, launched a spirited and articulate defense of India’s sovereign dignity. He minced no words in calling out Pakistan’s cheap theatrics—mocking the “need brains to cheat” farce behind their emulation of Indian military drills—and went a step further by branding Pakistan as a terrorist state. He urged the Indian diaspora not to fall for anti-India propaganda and reiterated the need to stand by India’s official positions. His attack on Pakistan’s use of doctored optics to feign military superiority resonated with truth, conviction, and national pride.
This clear, unequivocal branding of Pakistan as a state sponsor of terrorism by a prominent Indian Muslim leader is a major diplomatic setback for Islamabad, which has long attempted to gather sympathy and support from Muslim nations by projecting itself as the victim in South Asia. Owaisi’s intervention shows that India’s Muslims can reject Pakistan’s narrative without compromising their religious identity. It also sends a powerful message to Muslim countries: religion and terrorism are not the same, and blind support for Pakistan in the name of Islam is not only misplaced but dangerous.
The Muslim world must now reflect deeply before aligning with Pakistan, a nation whose track record includes harboring terrorists, sponsoring cross-border violence, and fueling sectarian hatred. Owaisi has demonstrated that one can be proud of one’s faith and still stand firmly for one’s country—a model of responsible citizenship and principled patriotism.
On the other hand, Gurpatwant Singh Pannu, self-styled “legal advisor” of the proscribed Sikhs for Justice (SFJ), continues to spew venom that dishonors the very ethos of Sikhism and endangers the international image of the Sikh community. By calling upon Sikh soldiers of the Indian Army to disobey orders in case of war with Pakistan, Pannu crosses an unforgivable red line. His statements are not only foolish but deeply treacherous—undermining the sacrifices made by generations of Sikh soldiers who have laid down their lives defending India against external aggression, including from Pakistan.
To suggest that Sikh soldiers will not fight Pakistan is an affront to the legacy of valor, discipline, and patriotism that defines the Sikh contribution to India’s defense forces. For someone living in foreign comfort to tarnish that legacy is not only cowardly but a calculated betrayal.
The question naturally arises: who is scripting Pannu’s lines? Whose agenda does he serve by provoking discord within India, by aligning—rhetorically and strategically—with Pakistan? The language he speaks is eerily similar to the messaging from Pakistan agencies. His timing, his targets, and his tactics suggest orchestration by forces that benefit from a fractured, unstable India. His repeated attempts to provoke mutiny in the armed forces echo psychological warfare, not political activism.
The global Sikh community must draw a clear line between legitimate political expression and irresponsible extremism. Sikhism has always stood for sacrifice, truth, and service to the nation—Shri Guru Gobind Singh ji himself declared the Khalsa as defenders of the weak and upholders of justice. Pannu, in contrast, represents a shadowy inversion of these ideals—where deceit masquerades as activism, and treason is paraded as revolution.
India’s Muslims and Sikhs have faced their share of marginalization and prejudice. But the way forward is through constructive engagement and responsible advocacy, not through reckless incitement. Owaisi has shown that one can be proud of one’s identity while being loyal to the nation. Pannu, unfortunately, has become a pawn in a dangerous game of geopolitical sabotage.
The Sikh community must ask itself: are we to be remembered as torchbearers of courage and unity, or as tools of foreign propaganda machines?