E-Paper
India, West Asia, and the fires of fate
This article is authored by Amal Chandra, programme official, Central University of Gujarat and Hima Tara Sam, policy analyst and researcher.
“In the heart of the earth, where rivers of fire meet, the cries of the innocent echo—no peace, no retreat.” These haunting lines by poet Parniya Abbasi echo with chilling resonance today as West Asia descends into a deeper, darker phase of conflict. What began as a limited Israeli operation targeting Iranian missile and nuclear infrastructure under Operation Rising Lion has now evolved into a full-fledged regional conflagration. The theatre of war now includes Hezbollah rocket barrages from Lebanon, Iranian proxy attacks from Syria and Iraq, US airstrikes on Iranian soil, and retaliatory missiles crossing borders with grim regularity.
Amid this escalating inferno stands India, not as a distant observer, but as a nation with its interests, its people, and its moral legacy in the direct line of fire. As cities like Tel Aviv and Tehran shudder under missile rain and airstrikes, hospitals lie shattered, air-raid sirens mutilate childhood dreams, and a region teeters on the edge of humanitarian catastrophe.
The crisis is not distant. It is deeply personal for India. With over 18,500 Indians living in Israel and nearly 10,000 in Iran, the human stakes are undeniable. On June 19, the Indian government launched Operation Sindhu, a multi-phase evacuation effort involving military and commercial aircraft, including C-17 Globemasters. As of June 27, over 4,415 Indian citizens have been successfully evacuated: 3,597 from Iran and 818 from Israel, through coordinated land and air corridors, including a complex route via Armenia.
Control rooms have been activated in New Delhi and various embassies, and advisories have been issued urging Indian citizens to return or shelter in place. And yet, these operations, heroic and logistically impressive, feel dwarfed by the magnitude of the unfolding disaster. A fragile ceasefire, brokered by US mediation on June 23, brought only a momentary pause. Tehran has vowed retaliation. The scars are deep, and the ground reality remains combustible.
In mid-June, Israel launched one of its most expansive strikes in decades, targeting over 900 Iranian military and strategic sites across Tehran, Esfahan, and Kermanshah. The stated goal: dismantle Iran’s missile infrastructure and halt its uranium enrichment. According to reports, Israeli drones, saboteurs, and advanced munitions not only struck conventional arms facilities but also caused damage to sites adjacent to nuclear assets.
Iran’s response was immediate. Over 550 missiles, including Fateh and Zulfiqar-class rockets, were launched in retaliation. One salvo reportedly hit Al-Udeid Air Base in Qatar, used by US forces, breaching missile defences and sending shockwaves through Gulf diplomacy. In response, on June 22, the US unleashed Operation Midnight Hammer, with B-2 bombers striking Iranian nuclear complexes in Fordow, Natanz, and Isfahan. Three top IRGC commanders and eleven nuclear scientists were reportedly killed.
A funeral procession for these figures in Tehran, attended by over a million mourners, became a moment of national mourning and a political flashpoint. The geopolitical risk calculus is now not just regional; it's global.
For India, the economic implications are as grave as the humanitarian ones. Nearly 60% of India’s crude oil is sourced from West Asia. While direct imports from Iran remain low due to US sanctions, a further disruption in the Strait of Hormuz, through which nearly a fifth of the world’s oil flows, threatens to spike global prices. Brent crude recently climbed to $84 per barrel, and India's rupee slid to ₹86.72 per dollar, its weakest in three months.
This currency dip is not symbolic; it carries tangible effects. Imported inflation, especially in transportation, aviation fuel, and fertilisers, could worsen. Household budgets will feel the squeeze, especially for low-income families. Moreover, trade corridors like the Chabahar Port, in which India has invested over $500 million, are now jeopardised. The port, once India’s strategic alternative to Pakistan for accessing Central Asia, now lies within reach of Iranian anti-access warfare planning.
Equally vulnerable is the ambitious India-Middle East-Europe Economic Corridor (IMEEC), which was unveiled with much fanfare at the 2023 G20 Summit. Designed to rival China’s Belt and Road Initiative, the corridor depends on regional stability, a condition now dangerously absent.
India’s diplomatic posture has been one of guarded neutrality, a throwback to the Nehruvian doctrine of non-alignment reimagined in a multipolar world. On one hand, India abstained from a UN resolution demanding a ceasefire in Gaza. On the other hand, it declined to endorse the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation's strongly worded condemnation of Israel, despite being a member.
Simultaneously, quiet diplomacy has intensified. External afairs minister S Jaishankar reportedly spoke with Iranian foreign minister Abbas Araghchi, reiterating India’s desire for de-escalation and return to dialogue. Indian officials have also maintained backchannels with Israel, reinforcing strategic defence partnerships without compromising on humanitarian calls.
This posture is not accidental. Since Independence, India has supported the Palestinian cause, even delaying diplomatic relations with Israel until 1992. Yet since then, especially under Prime Minister Narendra Modi, ties with Tel Aviv have flourished, spanning defence, agriculture, and cybersecurity. The co-development of the Barak-8 surface-to-air missile system, among others, now faces uncertainty if the war endures.
With Iran, despite tensions, including its periodic commentary on Kashmir, India has preserved long-standing ties. The 2003 Tehran Declaration, trilateral agreements on Chabahar, and mutual support on regional forums are proof of a durable, if cautious, relationship.
Perhaps no constituency is more silently anxious than the nine million Indians living and working across the Gulf. These workers send home over $100 billion annually in remittances, a crucial lifeline for India’s balance of payments. With missiles flying near Doha, Manama, and Abu Dhabi, and the spectre of US-Iran confrontation returning, their safety is no longer assured.
The government’s evacuation efforts have so far focused on Israel and Iran. Should the conflict spill further into the Gulf, India may need to orchestrate the largest civilian repatriation since the 1990 Kuwait airlift. The emotional toll on families, communities, and migrant networks is already visible.
In a conflict defined by death tolls and retaliatory strikes, can India be something more than a cautious observer? Many voices in India’s civil society, diplomatic circles, and academia believe it can. With its unique access to both sides, its diaspora diplomacy, and a moral inheritance shaped by Gandhi and Nehru, India could step into a role few can play: A credible, neutral mediator.
This does not necessarily mean official arbitration. Even informal Track II diplomacy, humanitarian initiatives, and statements affirming international humanitarian law would be powerful. The Vasudhaiva Kutumbakam ideal—seeing the world as one family—must not remain confined to summit speeches.
India's spiritual and philosophical traditions, drawn from Buddha to Vivekananda, advocate compassion even in conflict. Now is the time to reawaken these values on the global stage.
At home, the war reverberates in campuses, art collectives, and places of worship. Students, religious leaders, and civil society groups from multiple communities have voiced solidarity with the civilian victims, be they Palestinian, Israeli, or Iranian. India's pluralism is not just demographic; it is emotional. The pain of loss in Gaza, Esfahan, or Haifa is felt in Kerala, Kashmir, and Kolkata alike.
This empathetic reflex is not a liability; it is India’s strength. A people that can feel across borders is a people that can lead across them.
India’s next steps will not be easy. The world is watching to see whether New Delhi will choose strategic ambiguity or step forward with strategic empathy. As the missiles fall and sirens wail across West Asia, the time for courageous clarity has come.
The choice is not binary. India can maintain ties while advocating restraint. It can avoid bloc politics while championing humanitarianism. It can be strategic and still be just.
History will remember not just who wielded power, but who used it for peace. And when the fire fades, what will remain are not just the ruins of cities, but the memory of who stood up for humanity.
As Parniya Abbasi’s poem reminds us:
“The wounds remain deep.”
And so must our resolve—to speak, to act, and to remember.
This article is authored by Amal Chandra, programme official, Central University of Gujarat and Hima Tara Sam, policy analyst and researcher.
