MAKATI CITY (MindaNews / 8 May) – We often say history is written by the victors. But in our part of the world, sometimes it feels like history is written by generals, broadcasted by state media, and then repeated until it feels like truth.

Take India and Pakistan.

Whenever South Asia makes it to the headlines—especially in relation to Kashmir—it’s usually in the form of border skirmishes, UN resolutions, ceasefire violations, or even the nuclear countdown clock. But away from the headlines and hashtags, a different kind of story exists. One that refuses to fit into neat nationalist narratives. One I’ve seen unfold over chai cups, in shared dorm rooms, in fellowship circles, and yes, even in the corridors of international conferences.

It begins, as many good stories do, in a classroom.

Back in 1998, as a student of Persian at the International Persian Language Learning Center in Qazvin, Islamic Republic of Iran, I found myself in the company of young men from India, Pakistan, and Kashmir, among other countries. Most of us were struggling to conjugate Persian verbs or recall classical couplets. But what amazed me wasn’t the grammar—it was the grammar of friendship being written right in front of me.

Here were students from “rival” countries, laughing over Bollywood jokes, arguing about cricket, borrowing each other’s notes. If you were an alien visitor who had just landed in that Persian class, you’d never guess that their homelands had fought wars, exchanged artillery, and claimed a common piece of land with unyielding passion.

That land, of course, is Kashmir.

A land promised a democratic referendum. A land that, to this day, waits. Caught between two nations with deeply flawed records on how they treat their minorities, the people of Jammu and Kashmir remain deprived of the very thing the modern world claims to value most: choice.

India sees itself as a secular democracy, yet its treatment of Kashmir (and other minorities) often clashes with that self-image. Pakistan brands itself as a champion of Muslim causes, yet questions of extremism and internal oppression within its own borders are rampant. In both cases, narratives are doing the heavy lifting—about sovereignty, nationalism, identity, and fear.

And yet, it’s not the geopolitical tension that strikes me most when I look back. It’s the fragile, beautiful human connections formed in spite of it.

In 2016, I was a participant in an interreligious fellowship in Vienna, Austria. The kind of event where you sit across people from diverse faith traditions—Sikhs, Hindus, Buddhists, Jews, Christians, Muslims—and learn to listen, not just reply.

Among the participants were Indian and Pakistani youth who, once again, did not act out the scripts handed down by their politicians. They didn’t avoid the difficult topics either—Kashmir, partition, terrorism, nationalism—but they confronted them with civility, with compassion even.

It reminded me of what social constructivism teaches us: that identities are not fixed; they are constructed. And just as they are built, they can be unbuilt, rebuilt, and reimagined.

If animosity can be learned, so can empathy.

One encounter that left a lasting mark on me took place in Yangon, Myanmar, just before the pandemic put the world on pause.

I was co-facilitating an intercultural and interreligious training when I met Sohini, an Indian participant, and Souaad, a Pakistani. From the first session, it was clear there was a spark—not of romantic love, but of solidarity, sisterhood even.

They did everything together: they brainstormed side-by-side, they translated one another’s jokes, and on the final day, they delivered a moving joint presentation about religious harmony that brought more than a few of us to tears.

Later, one of the participants whispered to me, “Mansoor, it’s like they are trying to show the world what India and Pakistan could be, if only…”

Indeed. If only.

Of course, not all encounters defy the script. I recall one open forum during an international geopolitical conference in Tehran while I was pursuing my PhD in International Relations. An Indian official and a Pakistani counterpart—both from their respective foreign ministries—engaged in a heated exchange. Red lines were drawn. Accusations flew like missiles. No one in the hall interrupted. We just listened, stunned, as the decades of hostility erupted in real time.

It was a sobering reminder that states have long memories, but not always clear vision.

Social constructivism, as a theory of International Relations, tells us something profoundly hopeful: that the world is not a fixed place. Nations, identities, conflicts—these are not laws of nature. They are ideas we keep reenacting. And therefore, they can change.

Kashmir is more than just a disputed territory. It is also a symbol—of promises broken, of nationalism run amok, of people denied agency. Both India and Pakistan wrap their flags around Kashmir, each claiming to care more, each projecting historical legitimacy.

But do they hear the voices of Kashmiris themselves?

If we listen closely, not to the roar of artillery but to the whisper of ordinary people—students, poets, teachers, peacebuilders—we hear a different story. One that refuses to pit Hindus against Muslims, or Sikhs against Christians. One that asks: What if we wrote a new story together?

The question is not whether India and Pakistan will ever agree on Kashmir.

The real question is: Will their people refuse to be enemies while waiting?

From Qazvin to Yangon, I’ve seen enough to believe they can. Sohini and Souaad didn’t need a foreign policy directive to be friends. The youth in Vienna didn’t need a UN Security Council resolution to show respect. And we don’t need another war to understand that peace is always possible—when people become more powerful than the stories told about them.

Because the truth is, those stories can change.

And often, they already are.

[MindaViews is the opinion section of MindaNews. Mansoor L. Limba, PhD in International Relations and Shari‘ah Counselor-at-Law (SCL), is a publisher-writer, university professor, vlogger, chess trainer, and translator (from Persian into English and Filipino) with tens of written and translation works to his credit on such subjects as international politics, history, political philosophy, intra-faith and interfaith relations, cultural heritage, Islamic finance, jurisprudence (fiqh), theology (‘ilm al-kalam), Qur’anic sciences and exegesis (tafsir), hadith, ethics, and mysticism. He can be reached at mlimba@diplomats.com and www.youtube.com/@WayfaringWithMansoor, and his books can be purchased at www.elzistyle.com and www.amazon.com/author/mansoorlimba.]