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By:

Bhalchandra Chorghade

11 August 2025 at 1:54:18 pm

Applause for Cricket, Silence for Badminton

Mumbai: When Lakshya Sen walked off the court after the final of the All England Badminton Championships, he carried with him the disappointment of another near miss. The Indian shuttler went down in straight games to Lin Chun-Yi, who created history by becoming the first player from Chinese Taipei to lift the prestigious title. But the story of Lakshya Sen’s defeat is not merely about badminton final. It is also about the contrasting way India celebrates its sporting heroes. Had the same...

Applause for Cricket, Silence for Badminton

Mumbai: When Lakshya Sen walked off the court after the final of the All England Badminton Championships, he carried with him the disappointment of another near miss. The Indian shuttler went down in straight games to Lin Chun-Yi, who created history by becoming the first player from Chinese Taipei to lift the prestigious title. But the story of Lakshya Sen’s defeat is not merely about badminton final. It is also about the contrasting way India celebrates its sporting heroes. Had the same narrative unfolded on a cricket field, the reaction would have been dramatically different. In cricket, even defeat often becomes a story of heroism. A hard-fought loss by the Indian team can dominate television debates, fill newspaper columns and trend across social media for days. A player who narrowly misses a milestone is still hailed for his fighting spirit. The nation rallies around its cricketers not only in victory but also in defeat. The narrative quickly shifts from the result to the effort -- the resilience shown, the fight put up, the promise of future triumph. This emotional investment is one of the reasons cricket enjoys unparalleled popularity in India. It has built a culture where players become household names and their performances, good or bad, become part of the national conversation. Badminton Fights Contrast that with what happens in sports like badminton. Reaching the final of the All England Championships is a monumental achievement. The tournament is widely considered badminton’s equivalent of Wimbledon in prestige and tradition. Only the very best players manage to reach its final stages, and doing it twice speaks volumes about Lakshya Sen’s ability and consistency. Yet the reaction in India remained largely subdued. There were congratulatory posts, some headlines acknowledging the effort and brief discussions among badminton enthusiasts. But the level of national engagement never quite matched the magnitude of the achievement. In a cricketing context, reaching such a stage would have triggered days of celebration and analysis. In badminton, it often becomes just another sports update. Long Wait India’s wait for an All England champion continues. The last Indian to win the title was Pullela Gopichand in 2001. Before him, Prakash Padukone had scripted history in 1980. These victories remain among the most significant milestones in Indian badminton. And yet, unlike cricketing triumphs that are frequently revisited and celebrated, such achievements rarely stay in the mainstream sporting conversation for long. Lakshya Sen’s journey to the final should ideally have been viewed as a continuation of that legacy, a reminder that India still possesses the talent to challenge the world’s best in badminton. Instead, it risks fading quickly from public memory. Visibility Gap The difference ultimately comes down to visibility and cultural investment. Cricket in India is not merely a sport; it is an ecosystem built over decades through media attention, sponsorship, and mass emotional attachment. Individual sports, on the other hand, often rely on momentary bursts of recognition, usually during Olympic years or when a medal is won. But consistent performers like Lakshya Sen rarely receive the sustained spotlight that their achievements deserve. This disparity can also influence the next generation. Young athletes are naturally drawn to sports where success brings recognition, financial stability and national fame. When one sport monopolises the spotlight, others struggle to build similar appeal. Beyond Result Lakshya Sen may have finished runner-up again, but his performance at the All England Championship is a reminder that India continues to produce world-class athletes in disciplines beyond cricket. The real issue is not that cricket receives immense attention -- it deserves the admiration it gets. The concern is that athletes from other sports often do not receive comparable appreciation for achievements that are equally significant in their own arenas. If India aspires to become a truly global sporting nation, its applause must grow broader. Sporting pride cannot remain confined to one field. Because somewhere on a badminton court, an athlete like Lakshya Sen is fighting just as hard for the country’s colours as any cricketer on a packed stadium pitch. The only difference is how loudly the nation chooses to cheer.

Assassination as Statecraft: Israel’s Evolution in Targeted Killings

Updated: Oct 21, 2024

Israel’s Evolution

It took 70 years since Israel’s founding in 1948 for an intrepid journalist to comprehensively detail the Jewish state’s history of targeted assassinations – an indication of just how jealously the Children of Zion guard their secrets.

In his stunning ‘Rise and Kill First’ (2018), investigative journalist Ronen Bergman laid bare for the first time in astounding detail how Israel’s intelligence intelligence community has long relied on targeted assassinations as a central tool of national security and its intelligence services – the Mossad (overseas intelligence), the Shin Bet (internal security) and Aman (military intelligence) - have used extrajudicial killings to eliminate perceived threats.

As electronic devices explode in Lebanon, unnerving the leadership of the militant Hezbollah, one realizes that such operations conducted with surgical precision and secrecy, have long shaped Israel’s defense doctrine and international standing.

The use of assassination as a tool of statecraft is neither unique nor new, but Israel’s scale and mastery of the method stand apart. As Bergman notes, assassination has become embedded in the Israeli defence doctrine, sending a chilling message to its adversaries: if you are a threat, we will find you, wherever you are. This ruthless logic has imbued Israeli intelligence with a fearsome reputation.

To fully understand this reliance on assassination, one must look back at the roots of modern Zionism. Founded in 1896 when Theodor Herzl published ‘Der Judenstaat’ (The Jewish State), Zionism emerged as a political movement to establish a safe homeland for Jews in response to pervasive anti-Semitism in Europe.

Herzl was particularly affected by the 1894 Dreyfus Affair in France, where Alfred Dreyfus, a Jewish officer, was wrongfully convicted of treason, underscoring the vulnerability of Jews in Europe.

Although Herzl’s vision of a Jewish state faced resistance from Western Europe’s Jewish elite, it strongly appealed to oppressed Jewish communities in Eastern Europe, who saw in Zionism a means to achieve self-determination amid ongoing pogroms, particularly in the Tsarist Russian Empire where mobs of the anti-Semitic ‘Black Hundreds’ terrorized Jewish settlements.

This philosophy would later influence the early Jewish defense groups in Palestine, such as the Haganah, which adopted aggressive tactics against Arab forces. An early example occurred in 1923, when a hit squad from Haganah assassinated Tewfik Bey, an Arab police officer implicated in the 1921 Jaffa riots. These early acts of targeted killings, framed as retaliation for attacks on Jewish communities, foreshadowed tactics that would become central to Israel’s defense strategy.

During World War II, the participation of the Jewish Brigade in the British Army would further shape the future Israel state’s military doctrine. Members of the Brigade, upon encountering the horrors of the Holocaust, concluded that Jews could only ensure their survival through the establishment of an independent state. The perceived existential threat to the Jewish people, reinforced by the Holocaust, became a driving force behind the adoption of more extreme measures.

After the war, the experience of the Holocaust intensified Israel’s sense of vulnerability, leading to the belief that Jewish survival required aggressive self-defense. This mindset formalized targeted assassinations as a key tactic, shifting from extremist groups like Irgun and Lehi to mainstream Israeli strategy under leaders like David Ben-Gurion. Many guerrilla fighters and assassins from this era later became pivotal in shaping Israel’s armed forces and intelligence community.

Fast forward to the present, and the legacy of these tactics is unmistakable. During the early 2000s, as violence erupted in the Second Intifada, Israel escalated its campaign against Palestinian militants. The killing of Ahmed Yassin, the spiritual leader of Hamas, in 2004 marked a pivotal moment in this strategy. The airstrike that took his life was framed as a necessary response to the ongoing threat of terrorism.

Bergman details how Israeli intelligence has perfected the art of assassination, with operations ranging from the killing of Iranian nuclear scientists to thwarting arms shipments destined for Hamas in Gaza. In July 2011, for example, Mossad agents assassinated Darioush Rezaeinejad, a senior researcher for Iran’s Atomic Energy Organization. In 2011, an explosion at a Revolutionary Guard base west of Tehran, attributed to Israeli intelligence, killed General Hassan Tehrani Moghaddam, Iran’s missile development chief.

While Israel has honed these methods over decades, the influence of its intelligence operations has extended far beyond its borders. The United States, in its post-9/11 war on terror, adopted many of Israel’s techniques, from intelligence gathering to the use of drones for targeted killings. The same tools used to eliminate threats to Israel now form the backbone of America’s counterterrorism strategy.

One may argue that a paradox of Israel’s intelligence success is that it has become a victim of its own capabilities. Leaders who have seen the efficacy of assassinations in neutralizing immediate threats have, at times, elevated these tactics above the pursuit of comprehensive peace agreements. Meir Dagan, former Mossad chief, came to realize this late in his career.

He argued that only a two-state solution with the Palestinians could ensure Israel’s long-term survival. Without such a political solution, Israel risks becoming a binational state, where the Zionist dream of a Jewish-majority democracy is fraught with constant internal conflict.

Today, as Hezbollah retaliates to the pager explosions with rocket strikes in Nazareth, one wonders whether Israel’s over-reliance on assassination has sidelined broader political solutions needed to achieve lasting peace.

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