Trigger warning: This article discusses sensitive topics including terrorism, violence, sexual violence, and trauma.
The recent terror attack in Pahalgam, Kashmir, where 26 innocent lives were lost, once again underscored the painful parallels between the threats posed by extremist violence around the world. In the face of such tragedies, connections that once seemed distant take on new urgency.
Sometimes, a single conversation brings that reality into sharp focus and shifts your entire perspective. That's what happened when I met Pradeep Dutta, a senior Indian journalist who came to Israel over a year ago to cover the October 7 massacre and the Israel-Hamas War. We met when he interviewed me about my work using generative AI to advocate for the hostages. But it wasn't the interview that stayed with me. It was a single, quietly delivered line:"You have Palestine. We have Pakistan."
Parallel struggle
And just like that, I realized we had a parallel struggle, a shared vulnerability to terrorism from hostile neighbors and a shared pain. Pradeep didn't speak in theories or frameworks. His insight came from years spent in war zones, listening more than talking. His words built a connection I felt compelled to explore. Beyond the headlines and beyond the usual narratives.
Though only formalized in 1992, the Israel-India connection, forged between two countries in hostile regions, has grown into a strategic partnership. Beyond diplomacy lies something deeper: a connection shaped by shared struggle and resilience.
At the political level, Prime Minister Narendra Modi has transformed this quiet friendship into a visible alliance. Where past governments kept relations cautious, Modi has brought warmth and purpose. His 2017 visit to Israel marked a turning point. Since then, cooperation and cultural exchanges have flourished, reflecting his vision for a multifaceted alliance. Modi's mantra, "A terrorist is a terrorist," echoes Israel's own zero-tolerance policy toward extremism.
My trip began focused on innovation as part of an Israeli delegation organized by Innovation Asia Ventures, exploring India's tech landscape. But my next stop felt worlds away in Jammu, near Kashmir, the heart of the India-Pakistan conflict. The shift was immediate. Landing in Jammu, the lack of phone signal was my first jolt. Then came the armed guard with our driver, a sight eerily familiar, echoing scenes from some places back home.
After Pradeep's warm welcome at the Times Now bureau, Jammu revealed itself as a city of profound contradictions. Breathtakingly beautiful against the Himalayan foothills, it's the City of Temples, yet heavily militarized. Crucially, some 300,000 residents are Hindu refugees, survivors driven from Kashmir by terror decades ago. This was the complex, resilient India I had sought – beautiful, scarred, and defying easy definition.
The shared scourge
Tragically, we have a shared enemy: radical Islamic terrorism.
Hearing Pradeep describe the India-Pakistan conflict, the Kashmir struggle, and the horrors of attacks, such as the 2008 Mumbai massacre (which deliberately targeted the Chabad house, a distinctly Jewish center, alongside other sites), felt painfully familiar. The 2025 terror attack in Kashmir also targeted innocent civilians and left deep scars on the national psyche.
Both nations face state-sponsored terror groups that operate among civilians: Lashkar-e-Taiba and Jaish-e-Mohammed against India, Hamas and Hezbollah against Israel. Pradeep's words cut deep: "We know what it's like to wake up to terror... to lose loved ones... to fight an enemy hiding among civilians... what it's like when the world doesn't understand you."
This shared vulnerability creates an unspoken deep understanding.
Pradeep's insights from the field hit close to home. Reporting from Israel after October 7, he saw familiar, disturbing patterns from his years covering Kashmir: the twisting of narratives that turn victims into villains.
“I saw everyone talking about Gaza, but nobody talked about the 1,200 people murdered [by Hamas in Israel]," he recalled, pained. "What I saw in Israel was all too familiar." His frustration peaked at a press conference where international media focused solely on Gaza, ignoring the Israeli families shattered by the massacre.
“What happened to you on October 7,” he told me, “felt like what happened to us in the 90s in Kashmir... the same cruelty, the same hatred, the same selectivity in the global media.”
His words stayed with me during my visit to Jammu, where I met survivors and experts.
Women, war, and politics of forgetting
I met Dr. Sushma Shalla, one of about 150,000 Hindus forced to flee Kashmir in the early 1990s. Her father, a Hindu, had been a senior officer in the Indian security service in Kashmir. She described the Kashmir of the 1970s as pastoral and peaceful, with Hindus and Muslims coexisting.
But gradually, extremist Muslim groups from Pakistan gained influence. What began with intimidation escalated to horrific violence: marking Hindu homes, massacres, kidnappings, rape, and brutal murders. In 1990, at the peak of the violence, over 200 Hindus were murdered within months, and mosques broadcast the chilling ultimatum: “Convert, leave, or die." Hindu women were especially targeted.
Dr. Shalla's own father was kidnapped, tortured, and murdered. Hearing these stories, decades-old yet searingly immediate, felt overwhelming, stirring echoes of the trauma Israel was still living through.
The next day, we had lunch with Dr. Twinkle Suri, an award-winning researcher compiling testimonies of women living in the conflict zone. "In both tragedies, women's suffering is silenced," Dr. Suri said. "The stories of rape, of loss, of trauma – these are stories the world doesn't want to hear. And this is true for both Kashmir and Israel."
During the Kashmir exodus in 1990, Hindu women became targets of horrific crimes. The case of teacher Girija Tickoo, who was abducted, brutally raped, and dismembered alive, exemplifies this brutality.
These atrocities resonate chillingly with what Israeli women experienced on October 7, 2023, at the hands of Hamas terrorists. In both instances, the female body became a battlefield, with violence aimed at shattering not just individuals but entire communities.
The acclaimed 2022 film The Kashmir Files brought global attention to this exodus, depicting the horrors faced by the Kashmiri Pandit community and highlighting their struggle against silenced memories. Despite the pain, many refugees, like Dr. Shalla demonstrated remarkable resilience, rebuilding their lives while preserving their heritage.
The heartbeat of the alliance
The recent Kashmir terror attack serves as a stark reminder of our shared reality. When India mourns, Israelis understand, and when Israelis bury their loved ones, Indians recognize the threat. These parallel wounds form the emotional backbone of our alliance.
In these reflective days following Holocaust Remembrance Day and Independence Day, we've journeyed from crisis to remembrance, to pride and resilience. Yet, painfully and inconceivably, there are 59 hostages still held in Gaza.
This compels a united global stance against terror and extremism. This unimaginable ongoing tragedy highlights the need for steadfast international cooperation to confront such brutality in Israel, India, and worldwide.
This shared struggle against terror has forged our bond through lived experience – creating an unshakable solidarity shaped by common pain and resilience. This isn't mere strategic alignment; it's a human connection grounded in empathy.
As Pradeep said: "My heart will always beat for you. I will always salute the Jewish and Israeli spirit... strong even in difficult times."
Now more than ever, we must strengthen this irreplaceable bond between our peoples.
The writer founded Generative AI for Good, spearheading ethical GenAI projects on violence against women, democracy, and Holocaust commemoration. Her work with partners such as Meta and Microsoft has been featured at the UN, NATO, and UN Women. Special thanks to Len Khodokovsky for his invaluable insights.