A recurring tension in South Asian discourse is the question of consistency: how states interpret borders, secession, and sovereignty; not in principle, but in practice.
Liberalstanās case is that India acted selectively in 1947: Junagadh saw a plebiscite, Hyderabad faced military action, and Kashmir was referred to the UN. From this perspective, India chose whichever method suited its interests in each case. To Liberalstan, this isnāt pragmatism, itās hypocrisy. The charge: if self-determination wasnāt good for Kashmir, why should it be for Balochistan? And what of Sikkim, Goa, Pondicherry, Khalistan, Nagaland, or the Naxalites?
Hindustanās reply is rooted in realpolitik: decisions were shaped by demography, geography, and threats; not abstract norms. Q.E.A. Jinnahās attempt to absorb Junagadh and court Jodhpur are seen as deliberate provocations, since Junagadh was Hindu-majority, non-contiguous, and largely symbolic (home to Somnath). After that, New Delhi abandoned any illusions of standard rules. From Hindustanās view, Liberalstanās moral framing is not only naĆÆve but deeply asymmetrical; ignoring 1947, 1965, Kargil, Mumbai, and the long shadow of Pakistanās own interventions.
When it comes to Balochistan, Hindustan notes its accession was closer to annexation, comparable to Nepal or Bhutan vanishing into India. Three major insurgencies since the 1960s complicate the narrative of āfinality.ā But here, Liberalstanflips the script: what is labeled a disputed territory in Kashmir is declared settled in Balochistan. This inversion doesnāt go unnoticed.
In truth, both sides are mirrors. Each demands flexibility for itself and finality for the other. Each invokes āconsentāselectively; whether that of a prince, a people, or a state. The tragedy, perhaps, isnāt inconsistency but the absence of a shared regional framework for self-determination. One not held hostage by grievance, revenge, or exception.
Until then, accusations of hypocrisy will persist, each side fluent in the otherās blind spots.
