The early hours of 10 May marked a seismic shift in the region's strategic calculus, shattering several long-held myths that had hitherto shaped perceptions of Indian and Pakistani military and political dynamics.
Foremost among these myths was the belief that Pakistan, lacking the conventional might to counter India, would inevitably resort to nuclear deterrence in the event of conflict. Yet recent developments have shattered this notion, showcasing Pakistan’s capacity for a robust, conventional military response. Similarly, the legendary invincibility of Israeli defence technology—including drones and the Iron Dome—was found wanting, as both systems failed to withstand targeted countermeasures. Furthermore, India’s reputedly decisive political leadership, long celebrated for its strategic clarity, its offensive-defensive doctrine, has revealed a troubling lack of coherence under pressure.
Equally exposed was the myth of Indian diplomatic ingenuity.
India’s complex foreign policy—balancing defence ties with Russia, strategic alignment with the United States, and economic courtings of Gulf monarchies—has often been hailed as masterful. Recent responses, however, suggest frayed alliances and diminishing returns. Another fallacy that collapsed was the claim that Pakistan’s social fabric, and political divides would unravel under attack. On the contrary, the country exhibited profound national solidarity in the face of aggression.
Lastly, the myth of Indian advancement in Information technology has also been busted. While the intellectual pedigree of Indian technocrats is not in doubt, recent cyber vulnerabilities laid bare a fragile digital infrastructure, discrediting longstanding narratives of Indian supremacy in the global tech arena.
The morning of 10 May has, in effect, altered global perceptions of the strategic balance between the two nuclear-armed neighbours. It has also reshaped the concept of modern warfare, leaving the world stunned as Pakistan launched a calibrated and effective response to Indian aggression that began in the early hours of 7 May.
The Godi media celebrated these scenes, and figures like Hakim parroted their narrative, presenting images of innocent victims as supposed proof of Pakistani terrorism
What occurred that night was a moment of profound shame.
Indian missiles struck several sites within Pakistan, claiming to target terrorist hideouts. In reality, the attacks killed entire families—women and children as young as five and seven. These were not combatants; they were innocent civilians caught in the crossfire of a manufactured narrative. The world bore witness to this brutality. Following a false-flag operation in Pahalgam on 22 April, India’s leadership resumed its tired refrain of branding Pakistan as a sponsor of terrorism. In response, both civilian and military leaders in Pakistan jointly attended the funerals of the victims. Meanwhile, India’s Godi media falsely reported that the Pakistani military was mourning terrorists.
It wasn’t only the Indian media indulging in such distortions. Sky News anchor Yalda Hakim hosted an Indian on her programme, who shamelessly presented a photograph of Pakistani officers attending the funeral as supposed evidence of Pakistan’s support for cross-border terrorism. This incident exposed yet another myth: that Western broadcasters, such as Sky News, maintain journalistic neutrality. Hakim’s widely circulated photograph with the Indian politician on social media speaks volumes about her biases.
In the days that followed—between 7 and 9 May—India launched 77 drones targeting residential areas in several densely populated Pakistani cities. One of the sites hit was Rawalpindi Cricket Stadium, where a match was scheduled to take place. No Indian official offered any explanation as to what “terrorist hideouts” existed at these civilian locations, nor did the likes of Yalda Hakim bother to question such attacks on air.
India appeared to have a free hand: kill anyone you like, hit any site in Pakistan.
And so, it continued.
In the face of this aggression, the people of Pakistan—shocked at first—responded not just with memes and satire but also with an increasingly unified public voice. The Pakistani state attempted to engage diplomatically, but its overtures were dismissed. Instead, Pakistan was repeatedly lectured on civilisation, while Indian forces engaged in brutal acts against peaceful civilians. The Godi media celebrated these scenes, and figures like Hakim parroted their narrative, presenting images of innocent victims as supposed proof of Pakistani terrorism.
On the night of 9 May, India struck Noor Khan Airbase in Chaklala, Rawalpindi, along with several other airfields across Pakistan.
These attacks were a face-saving response to Pakistan’s downing of Indian jets on 7 May—including three prized Rafales. Initially denied by the Modi government and Indian media, the truth emerged after CNN and other credible outlets confirmed that the jets had indeed been brought down by Pakistan Air Force J-10s, using PL-15 beyond-visual-range missiles. To compensate for the embarrassment, the Modi government ordered retaliatory strikes on PAF airbases in a theatrical attempt to restore its image.
But what followed on the morning of 10 May proved decisive. Pakistan’s armed forces demonstrated overwhelming conventional military dominance, busting the myth that India held an upper hand. In my live show, Political Zone, I asked former Air Marshal Arshad Malik how the PAF was able to penetrate Indian territory, carry out operations, and return unharmed. He explained that the PAF had launched a cyber-attack on Indian military systems, disabling satellite communications and disarming air defence networks. The attack also shut down 70% of India’s power grid and granted access to key government websites, effectively paralysing the Indian state. Thus fell the myth of Indian superiority in information technology.
As for Israeli drones, ordinary Pakistanis were seen shooting them down with G3 rifles and shotguns. In one shot, two myths collapsed: the superiority of Israeli weaponry and the supposed disconnect between Pakistan’s armed forces and its people. The myth of strong Indian political leadership also crumbled as its officials rushed to various capitals pleading for a ceasefire. Neither Russia nor the United States provided the diplomatic support India had expected.
There are also unconfirmed reports of two additional Rafale jets being downed on the morning of 10 May, with one female pilot captured by Pakistani forces. However, those brokering the ceasefire reportedly urged Pakistan to keep this information confidential in order to spare the Indian leadership from public outrage, fearing that acknowledgement would make the ceasefire request appear as a de facto surrender.
A press conference in New Delhi by Foreign Secretary Vikram Misri and the images from Prime Minister Modi’s emergency cabinet meeting spoke volumes. The myth-busting morning of 10 May had left its mark—etched in silence, confusion, and retreat.