In an era of relentless media cycles and performative politics, foreign policy is increasingly becoming a battleground for domestic posturing. The danger lies not just in what is said, but in how and why it’s said. Moral absolutism is deployed selectively, outrage is amplified when convenient, and silence is deafening when facts challenge the preferred narrative. The framing of India’s foreign policy as either morally courageous or morally bankrupt ignores diplomacy’s layered complexities. Nations do not operate in binaries. They navigate shades of grey, often balancing principle with pragmatism. To cast India’s foreign policy as a betrayal of historical moral commitments is not only reductionist, it is deeply dishonest.
Take the Hamas attack on Israel — one of the most horrific terrorist acts in recent memory. For India — a victim of terrorism — moral clarity on such acts is not optional; it is foundational. To hesitate in condemning such violence is not intellectual sophistication — it is moral evasiveness.
India rightly condemned this attack as terrorism. This was not a partisan statement. It was a reflection of India’s consistent stance against terror. At the same time, it made clear its support for the Palestinian people — urging humanitarian access to Gaza, calling for the release of hostages, and providing over 65 tonnes of aid. India has donated over $65 million for Palestine’s development in recent years and continues to fund infrastructure and education projects in the West Bank. Yet critics accuse it of abandoning its moral compass. On what basis? That it refused to take a simplistic, one-sided view of a multidimensional conflict? Or that it chose to engage both sides while prioritising the safety of Indian citizens and regional stability? Let us not forget: Diplomacy is not Twitter. It is not built for viral outrage. It is about safeguarding interests while promoting peace. Condemning terrorism while extending humanitarian support is not a contradiction — it is coherence.
What often passes for foreign policy critique today seems a deliberate misreading of strategic imperatives. This becomes glaring when examining how critics invoke Iran, Israel, and the larger West Asian theatre. For example, the portrayal of Iran as an innocent, misunderstood actor wilfully ignores the concerns over its nuclear programme. According to the IAEA, Iran now holds over 400 kg of 60 per cent-enriched uranium — dangerously close to weapons-grade. Multiple inspections have found uranium traces at undeclared sites, and Iran continues to block full transparency. Yet, such critical developments are conveniently omitted. This is not nuance; it is misdirection. It seeks to equate Iran’s opaque nuclear manoeuvres with Israel’s alleged nuclear capabilities — a comparison that collapses under scrutiny. Israel has never signed the Non-Proliferation Treaty, nor has it been found in violation of IAEA safeguards. Iran, by contrast, is a signatory and repeatedly non-compliant. To conflate the two is agenda-driven.
Some romanticise India-Iran ties by citing Tehran’s support for India at the 1994 UN Human Rights Commission vote on Kashmir. But this overlooks the evolving nature of Iran’s foreign policy. Iran is a member of the Organisation of Islamic Cooperation — a bloc that routinely criticises India on Kashmir. In recent years, Tehran has echoed calls for “restoration of rights” in J&K, aligning with positions India considers deeply problematic. Even the strategic relevance of the Chabahar Port is twisted into a narrative of Iranian altruism. The port’s development depended heavily on India’s backchannel diplomacy with the US, which provided a sanctions waiver. India’s relationship with Iran has been cautious and transactional, shaped by oil trade, connectivity goals, and regional deterrence, not emotional solidarity.
When it comes to Israel, let us not forget that full diplomatic ties were established not by today’s government but under former prime minister P V Narasimha Rao. That decision reflected strategic foresight. Since then, ties have deepened. To now paint this trajectory as a betrayal of India’s historical commitments is a politically convenient case of forgetting one’s own legacy.
India’s nuanced response to the Iran-Israel escalation is another case in point. The Ministry of External Affairs issued a firm, balanced statement urging de-escalation, emphasising dialogue and diplomacy, and reiterating concern for Indians in both countries. Emergency protocols were activated to ensure the safety of thousands in the region. Critics labelled this approach muted. But what was the alternative? Publicly taking sides in a conflict — one with nuclear implications, energy security risks, and the diaspora’s safety at stake? Is that responsible statecraft or reckless signalling? India’s foreign policy does not exist in a vacuum. It is shaped by geography, history, and hard power realities. Surrounded by two nuclear adversaries, locked in a matrix of regional alliances and dependencies, India cannot afford to grandstand. It must calculate every move with precision. Pragmatism is not a betrayal of principle — it is about preservation in a hostile world.
The danger today is not India’s diplomatic caution, it is the trend of a partisan foreign policy critique. Turning complex international issues into tools for domestic political attack is hazardous. It undermines national unity on external affairs, weakens credibility abroad, and sends conflicting signals. Foreign policy is not the arena for point-scoring. It demands strategic consistency, institutional memory, and national coherence. When every international issue is filtered through the lens of electoral calculations or ideological grievances, we do not get a better foreign policy — we get a fragmented one. What India needs today is clarity without chaos, values without vanity, and vision without vendetta. The world is not waiting for India to moralise. It is watching to see if India can lead — with balance, wisdom, and strategic resolve.
The writer is a policy analyst and PhD scholar at Bennett University