THERE is no match between the media landscapes of India and Pakistan. The former, with its vast reach and influence, is becoming increasingly aggressive, and often projects hostility not only towards its neighbours but also against its own marginalised communities. However, both countries suffer from the absence of a credible peace lobby that can offer rational alternatives during moments of crisis and resist the pull of emotional hysteria that dominates the public discourse.

When the fragile calm breaks, India`s political leadership loses its composure, and the media traditional and digital deepens the crisis by crafting an environment of anxiety and manufactured outrage. Saner voices do exist, but they are quickly sidelined once nationalist narratives begin to dominate. For its part, Pakistan is not immune to these patterns either. While its media infrastructure lacks the algorithmic sophistication and narrative machinery of its Indian counterpart, it still often mirrors the same confrontational posture.

A peace lobby, in this context, is not merely desirable, it is absolutely vital. For two nations caught in an ongoing cycle of suspicion and hostility, the presence of cross-border peace advocates can play a role to promote stability. The role of these peace advocates can be particularly critical during periods of relative calm when there is an opportunity for engagement and trustbuilding to expand the space for dialogue and reduce the risk offuture escalation.

Some efforts have attempted to fill this void.

Both the countries` civil society actors, academics and independent thinkers have contributed to dialogue through Track 2 and Track 1.5 diplomacy. Among the more visible initiatives are the Neemrana dialogue, involving retired military and diplomatic officials, and the Ottawa dialogue, which focuses on strategic stability and crisis management. The Pugwash conferences have occasionally created space for regional discussions on nuclear issues and peace.

Civil society has also made some contributions to foster sustained dialogue and regional cooperation, while media-led campaigns like Aman ki Asha attempted to revive cultural and trade ties.

Academic institutions on both sides have produced policy-oriented research to support cross-border engagement. Simultaneously, cultural collaborations, joint film screenings, music projects, and poetry exchanges have kept alive alternative narratives of peace, often amplified by independent journalists and public intellectuals committed to de-escalation.

But for all their visibility and occasional breakthroughs, the impact of such initiatives has been limited in shaping the public discourse or influencing state behaviour in a sustained manner.

The ideological divide that exists has continued to deepen, with the result that hatred thrives, especially in the unregulated expanse of social media, where polarising content overshadows the quiet work of bridge-builders. Without broader ownership by society and the political leadership, peace efforts risk remaining peripheral to the dominant narratives that drive nationalist sentiment.

Many of these initiatives are supported by public and private institutions in Europe and America. These institutions seek tangible, shortterm outcomes from their engagements.

However, peacebuilding, particularly in complex conflict zones such as South Asia, does not lend itself to linear results or limited time frames.

Sustainable engagement can only come about through patience, continuity and deeper investment in trust-building conditions that often frustrate donors operating on fixed cycles.

A second, perhaps more fundamental, issue is the composition of these forums, many of whose participants, particularly the former officials among them, were once embedded in state structures known to resist or undermine peace processes. The worldview of these participants was shaped by institutional legacies and securitycentric thinking, which often limits the scope of dialogue. In a number of instances, rather than contributing to meaningful discussions, they derail the debate or treat such engagements as leisure trips. Most Track 2 meetings are held in third countries because of political hostility at home, which only further detaches the process from the ground realities.

There is also a gap at the conceptual level.

These forums, while called `peace dialogues`, rarely evolve into genuine peace lobbies. Their structure and function often mirror state-centric priorities rather than offering a broader visionrooted in human security and democratic values.

A true peace lobby must be independent, consistent and resilient. It must operate beyond the confines of geopolitics, resist the seductions of nationalism and maintain its moral clarity even when public sentiment turns hostile.

Over the years, as donor interest has waned and tangible outcomes have proved increasingly elusive, these initiatives have declined. However, their deeper failure lies in their inability to act effectively in times of crisis. Rather than countering war narratives, many actors within these forums echo official talking points, thus becoming unintentional amplifiers of the very forces they were meant to challenge.

To be a peacenik in this environment is hardly easy. It involves standing firm against the spoilers of peace and confronting emotional public sentiment. These proponents of peace would be stigmatised as anti-state and, in some cases, foreign agents. The pressure built by the public and media becomes unbearable in many instances.

It may require enduring the hostility of state institutions that view alternative narratives as threatening the official position. But such voices, no matter how marginal, are essential. Without them, the region risks becoming locked in an endless cycle of confrontation, with no exit strategy.

Unfortunately, the prospect of a robust, independent peace lobby in either country remains dim. In India, ultra-nationalism aligned closely with the Hindu supremacist ideology has merged with state power. Economic growth has further emboldened its expression, making it more exclusionary and intolerant. In Pakistan, the challenges are no less severe. Chronic extremism continues to erode the fabric of society, while the state, in its quest for a hard state, relies increasingly on alliances with religious groups whose outlook is inherently opposed to peace and pluralism.

In such a climate, the path to peace must begin by reimagining what a peace lobby can be: not a short-term project or a donor-driven initiative but a long-term social investment rooted in inclusivity, civic courage, and regional empathy. Until then, peace will remain a hope, not a policy. • The writer is a secunty analyst.