Simla Agreement and the Ghost Horse of Rawalpindi: Pakistan’s Latest Attempt to Bury a Corpse It Already Cremated...
When you suspend an agreement you’ve already violated, while lamenting that your enemy is no longer respecting it, it’s not diplomacy—it’s high-octane geopolitical slapstick. Welcome to the Simla Shenanigans of 2025: where the horse is not just dead, it’s fossilized, and Pakistan is still beating it with a stick labeled ‘Moral High Ground’.
ACT I: THE DEAD HORSE RIDES AGAIN
In an announcement that somehow managed to be both ominous and hilariously redundant, Pakistan recently declared that it is placing the Simla Agreement of 1972 in abeyance — a document it had already violated, ignored, contradicted, walked over, photocopied, set on fire, and then re-quoted during every UN General Assembly speech like it was a self-authored holy scripture.
Yes, Pakistan is suspending an agreement it itself declared dead multiple times over the decades. It’s the international equivalent of yelling, “I’m divorcing you!” at a party you weren’t invited to, from a marriage you already abandoned years ago, while your ex-spouse is too busy dating global economic forums to even look back.
The announcement came in response to India suspending the Indus Water Treaty, a separate agreement that actually affects Pakistan’s parched throat and not just its national ego. But instead of responding with water logic, Pakistan has chosen Simla Drama.
ACT II: SIMLA 101 – A QUICK PRIMER ON HISTORICALLY EXPIRED CONTRACTS
The Simla Agreement, signed in 1972, came in the aftermath of Pakistan’s historic embarrassment—er, military defeat—in the 1971 war, which concluded with:
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93,000 Pakistani soldiers captured (Yes, ninety-three thousand),
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The creation of Bangladesh, and
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The quiet burial of Pakistan’s two-nation theory under a mango tree in Dacca.
It was Pakistan’s Versailles, minus the top hats and wine.
The Agreement was meant to:
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Recognize Bangladesh’s independence,
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Turn the ceasefire line into a peaceful border (later euphemistically named the Line of Control, or LOC), and
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Cement the understanding that all future disputes would be solved bilaterally — not through UN tantrums, Twitter threads, or TikTok conspiracy videos.
Indira Gandhi, being the iron-willed realist, saw the chance to extract peace. Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto, desperate to preserve what remained of his reputation (and country), promised the moon and asked for delay. In short: India offered reintegration. Pakistan signed a promise. And then immediately forgot about it like a drunk wedding guest who swears eternal loyalty by 11 pm and throws up in your garden by midnight.
ACT III: THE AGREEMENT THAT DIED 17 TIMES AND CAME BACK AS A ZOMBIE
Since its inception, the Simla Agreement has gone through more midlife crises than a retired Bollywood villain:
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1980s: Pakistan began unofficially supporting terrorism in Kashmir.
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1990s: Kargil happened. Pakistan crossed the LOC and then called for the world to restore peace while sipping chai in bunkers.
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2000s–2020s: Repeated international appeals, border skirmishes, and Pakistani indulgence in jihadi diplomacy buried any residual relevance of the document.
Yet every time India called for bilateral resolution, Pakistan howled, “UN, intervene!”
And every time India ignored the howling, Pakistan brushed off the Simla Agreement’s bilateral clause as “conditional.” Apparently, “bilateral resolution” in Islamabadese means: “Let us shout about you in Geneva while calling it peace talks.”
Now, in 2025, Pakistan’s act of putting the Agreement in abeyance is less of a strategic move and more of a TikTok breakup video with bad audio.
ACT IV: KASHMIR, KARGIL, AND SELECTIVE LOC LOVE
In Kargil, Pakistani troops disguised as militants crossed the LOC in hopes of retaking territory. When India responded with airstrikes and boots-on-ground, Pakistan ran to the U.S. like a teenager caught sneaking out, crying, “It was a prank, bro!”
The Simla Agreement was shredded in spirit and practice decades ago — yet Pakistan still waves it around like a drunk aunt insisting she’s still married because no one burned the wedding sari.
India, meanwhile, has largely honored the LOC in military doctrine — even during hot pursuit operations, preferring to keep retaliation limited to the Indian side unless terrorists cross over first.
But if Pakistan now says, “Hey, the LOC is no longer valid,” then legally and militarily, India might just shrug and cross it too. And this time, the excuse will be printed on official letterhead — "Pakistan said it was okay."
ACT V: TRAGICOMIC CONSEQUENCES OF ‘ABEYANCE’
Pakistan’s move could now jeopardize actual, functioning CBMs (Confidence Building Measures) such as:
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Kartarpur Corridor, allowing Indian Sikhs to visit sacred shrines in Pakistan,
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Exchange of nuclear installation lists, a crucial ritual that ensures no one “accidentally” aims missiles at nuclear reactors on New Year’s Day,
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Border trade and humanitarian exchanges, however limited.
If Pakistan abrogates all bilateral agreements, it may finally discover what true isolation feels like — not political, but procedural. From airspace denials to diplomatic downgrades, Pakistan is slowly turning itself into North Korea with better cricket.
Ironically, even Pakistan’s own internal commentators are now admitting: “If Simla was a dead horse, this act is like issuing it a burial certificate with great ceremony and fireworks.”
ACT VI: WATER, THE REAL ISSUE — OR WHY THIS STARTED AT ALL
Let’s not forget: this entire drama erupted because India suspended the Indus Waters Treaty, one of the rare instances of cross-border cooperation that actually worked.
Why? Because India’s tolerance ran out after 26 innocent tourists were slaughtered in Pahalgam — allegedly by terrorists trained in Pakistan.
When terrorists start showing up with training certificates stamped “Rawalpindi,” even water begins to boil with rage.
India's action struck at Pakistan's real weakness: hydrology, not ideology. With glaciers melting, reservoirs running low, and climate change eating away at water security, Pakistan cannot afford even symbolic interruptions to its water supply.
Instead of responding with urgency, Pakistan retaliated with irrelevance, suspending the Simla Agreement — a move that has about as much immediate effect on India's dam-building plans as banning Indian soap operas in Lahore.
ACT VII: INTERNATIONAL REACTION — AN AWKWARD SILENCE
What has the global community said about this?
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The U.S.: “We urge both sides to de-escalate.” (translation: “We’re busy with Taiwan, please don’t call.”)
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The UN: “We remain concerned.” (translation: “We don’t know what’s going on, but we’re watching.”)
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China: Takes notes on how to weaponize water treaties.
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India: Adds “LOL” in the internal memo.
The Simla Agreement’s suspension wasn’t just a geopolitical tantrum — it was a tactical own goal. You can’t suspend what you never followed. You can’t threaten what you’ve already trivialized. And you can’t play victim when you're caught with the gun and the microphone.
ACT VIII: THE LAUGHING LINE — AND THE FINAL BURIAL
In 1972, the Simla Agreement was signed in hope. In 2025, it’s become a dark comedy in formal wear.
Pakistan's move to suspend it now reeks not of strategy, but of desperation — a last-ditch effort to look “strong” while hemorrhaging credibility.
COMMENTS SECTION (INTERNATIONAL EDITION)
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@LOCGhostRider: “Pakistan threatening to suspend Simla is like me suspending my gym membership from 2009. It was already dead.”
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@DiplomacyWithLassi: “India turns off water. Pakistan turns off nostalgia. One of these will cause real thirst.”
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@UNBystander911: “We now have more Kashmir solutions than Kashmiris.”
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@Bhutto_Throwback: “We had 93,000 POWs and traded it for paperwork. Greatest heist in reverse.”
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