Sporting Surrender?

Less than three months after 26 Indian tourists were massacred in Pahalgam by Pakistan-sponsored militants, New Delhi has inexplicably decided to roll out the astroturf for their attackers’ national team. The Sports Ministry has invoked the Olympic Charter to justify the move, which implies that blocking Pakistan from the Asia Cup (to be held in Bihar in August) and the Junior World Cup could invite international censure and spoil India’s chances of hosting future international events.

But that logic is a fig leaf. No one is suggesting that India should abandon its international sporting obligations altogether. Yet, coming so soon after the Pahalgam attack, the central government could have at least insisted on a cooling-off period. The haste in waving Pakistan through sends a message not of sporting magnanimity, but of diplomatic incoherence.

If anything, the decision raises suspicions about who is driving India’s Pakistan policy. The speed with which the clearance was given, despite a heightened atmosphere of public ire against Pakistan and military alertness, could raise suggestions whether American ‘pressure’ from Donald Trump’s administration is at play. In Trump’s world, what begins as a hockey match could well end in India’s lifting of a trade ban on Pakistan.

The Indian sports ministry insists that the Olympic Charter obliges host countries to allow participation from all qualified nations in multilateral competitions. That is technically true. But international sporting bodies also have precedents for exceptionalism. Russia, for instance, has faced blanket bans from global tournaments in the wake of its invasion of Ukraine. South Africa was a pariah in sport during apartheid. Even the International Olympic Committee has occasionally acted politically when the moral imperative is strong. If India had made a cogent case citing national security, public sentiment and the timing of recent terror attacks, it is likely the international community would have understood.

Instead, the government appears to be making selective accommodations. Bilateral cricket ties remain frozen, while Pakistani artists have been banned from performing in Bollywood. But there is now a fear that this hockey clearance could open the floodgates. Will the Asia Cup cricket match between India and Pakistan go ahead without objection? Will Pakistani singers return to Bollywood playlists in time for Diwali? Will long-standing trade bans be quietly lifted under the guise of regional cooperation? This salami-slicing of policy weakens India’s hand. It allows Pakistan to play victim while continuing to export terror. Far from projecting moral leadership, India risks appearing diplomatically ductile, especially if future concessions follow a similar pattern of quiet capitulation.

Yes, sport should rise above politics. But sport is not above politics when athletes cross blood-soaked borders barely weeks after a massacre. In this case, the symbolism is too raw, too recent and too resonant to ignore. India’s leaders may believe they are playing by the rules of international diplomacy. But the people watching know that something more unsettling is at play.