Averting the Unthinkable: India's Unseen Triumph in 2008

It’s November 2008. Mumbai, the vibrant heart of India, bleeds. A series of coordinated terrorist attacks, an unimaginable horror, has gripped the city, claiming 166 innocent lives. The perpetrators, as we know now, were from Lashkar-e-Taiba, based across the border in Pakistan. The world watched, aghast, as India grieved — and waited for a response. The pressure, one can only imagine, must have been immense, a boiling cauldron of public outrage and calls for swift, decisive retribution.

But here’s where the story takes a turn, a fascinating, perhaps even terrifying, one. A former CIA officer, Bruce Riedel, in his book, "Deadly Embrace," posits something truly extraordinary: India’s decision not to strike back militarily didn’t just avoid a conventional conflict. No, he argues, it very likely averted a nuclear war. Think about that for a moment. A nuclear war. Between two of the world's most populous nations, neighbors with a fraught history, both armed with atomic capabilities. It’s a chilling thought, isn’t it?

Riedel's thesis centers on what he terms India's "strategic patience." While the instinct for immediate retaliation was palpable, the Indian leadership, in a moment of what Riedel calls "remarkable statesmanship," held its nerve. This wasn’t weakness; far from it. It was, you could say, a profound display of strength – the strength to absorb, to analyze, and to choose a path less destructive, even when provoked to the absolute limit. And, in truth, this restraint, according to Riedel, bought the international community time to step in, to apply diplomatic pressure, and crucially, to prevent a regional crisis from spiraling into something far, far worse.

Why such a grave assessment? Well, the unspoken fear, according to Riedel’s analysis, was that Pakistan, perhaps anticipating an Indian conventional strike, had already readied its tactical nuclear weapons. The stakes, therefore, were impossibly high. Any Indian military foray across the Line of Control, however limited, could have been misconstrued, misinterpreted, or simply acted upon by a nervous, nuclear-armed adversary. And then, well, then the unthinkable becomes horrifyingly possible. It's a scenario that makes you pause, truly. One false move, one miscalculation, and the world could have witnessed its first nuclear exchange since Nagasaki.

Comparing India’s response to, say, America’s post-9/11 reaction offers a stark contrast, highlights the unique complexities of the subcontinent. While the US pursued a global "War on Terror" with military force, India, faced with an equally devastating, if not more direct, assault from a neighboring state, chose a different, almost counter-intuitive, path. It was a choice that undoubtedly required immense courage and foresight, a gamble on diplomacy and de-escalation over the immediate satisfaction of reprisal. And, honestly, for once, the gamble paid off in a way that preserved not just regional stability, but perhaps even a wider peace.

This episode, often remembered for its sheer brutality, now takes on an even deeper significance. It underscores the precarious nature of nuclear deterrence, especially in regions marked by deep-seated tensions. And yet, it also offers a glimmer of hope: that even in the darkest hours, when vengeance seems the only option, rational actors can, and sometimes do, pull back from the brink. India's "strategic patience" after 26/11, if Riedel is to be believed, wasn't just a political decision; it was, quite frankly, a lesson in survival for the nuclear age.