FOR nearly a decade, South Asia’s leading regional forum, the South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation (SAARC), has remained silent.
What was supposed to be a vehicle for economic integration, diplomatic dialogue and cross-border cooperation has become a ghost — abandoned, inactive and reduced to an afterthought. The paralysis traces back to a single point of rupture: India’s refusal to sit at the table with Pakistan.
The decline began after 2016, when India boycotted the summit scheduled in Islamabad. What may have seemed like a moment of diplomatic protest quickly led to regional fallout. The implications have been severe. Summits were suspended, agendas shelved and joint initiatives abandoned. What had once been seen as South Asia’s pathway to collaboration on poverty, education, energy and climate policy is now a symbol of regional failure. It’s not just that SAARC stopped working. It’s that it stopped mattering. SAARC was created on the premise that
South Asia could rise above its historical antagonisms and forge a collective future. But India has drained SAARC of meaning, holding back the region’s most formal structure of cooperation through its unilateral choices and disengagement. All this in a region that desperately needs a functioning regional framework. What remains is not a forum, but an empty stage. And the fallout is not just diplomatic. The cost is real, visible and quantifiable. The stagnation has meant missed economic partnerships and reduced trade volume. It has left millions across the region cut off from regional efforts in education, energy and health. Yet perhaps the most critical loss is harder to measure: the disappearance of regional purpose. There is, in this moment, no single idea pulling South Asia together.
Now, in the shadow of this dysfunction, a new initiative is emerging. Pakistan, China and Bangladesh have floated the idea of a new regional coalition — one built on practicality. The idea is to overcome paralysis, focus on trade and connectivity and move ahead without waiting for India to return to the table. The plan has generated interest — and anxiety. It raises uncomfortable questions. Can any grouping that excludes India truly claim to represent South Asia? And if India is brought in, does the entire project risk falling back into the same gridlock that doomed SAARC? The dilemma is stark.
Pakistan has not abandoned SAARC. It continues to defend the organization’s relevance and advocate for its revival—not out of nostalgia, but from a clear-eyed recognition that regional peace and prosperity depend on inclusive dialogue. That includes India — not just because of its power, but because of its responsibility. India’s choice to boycott the 2016 summit was not without precedent. But it marked a fundamental break in the principles of regional diplomacy. The contrast with earlier moments in history is telling. In 1995, amid tensions, Pakistan debated skipping a SAARC summit in India. Then–Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto made a different call. Instead of walking away, she sent President Farooq Leghari to represent Pakistan. The decision was not just a symbolic show of maturity. It was a strategic affirmation of the need for diplomacy, even in difficult times. India’s decision in 2016, by contrast, effectively pulled the plug on regionalism. That decision didn’t just disrupt a meeting. It broke the norm that heads of state must attend for SAARC to function. And it legitimized withdrawal as a tactic, setting a dangerous precedent for an already fragile institution.
Despite all this, Pakistan has kept diplomatic doors open. It has chosen dialogue, even when reciprocation has been scarce. It has insisted that communication is not a sign of weakness, but a condition for peace. This approach stands in stark contrast to the strategy of strategic silence now increasingly deployed in the region — one that sees disengagement as discipline. SAARC was never meant to be a venue for punishment. It was created to be a space where even adversaries could collaborate on shared challenges.
Today, South Asia finds itself at a decisive crossroads. Economic strain is growing. Climate shocks are becoming more frequent. Health systems are stretched. These are not issues any single nation can tackle in isolation. The pandemic should have taught us that. But South Asia — fractured and insular — continues to ignore this reality. ASEAN, despite its imperfections, offers a useful model — showing that even deep ideological divides can be bridged when common interests are prioritized. Trust cannot be summoned by decree. It must be built — slowly, consistently — through dialogue and presence. And presence matters. It starts with showing up. With not walking away. And here lies the most fundamental truth: no country — not even India — can lift South Asia alone.
The challenges facing the region transcend national borders. They demand collective resolve. They demand cooperation, not confrontation. Dialogue, not detachment. The alternative is bleak. A region further fragmented, locked in cycles of grievance and stagnation, where the poorest bear the highest costs. But it need not be that way. The road ahead is narrow and precarious — but it exists. It begins not with grand designs, but with a willingness to speak across fault lines. The future of South Asia won’t be shaped by boycotts, by brinkmanship or by brute force. If it is to be built at all, it will come from the quieter, steadier effort of mutual recognition — and the courage to choose cooperation, not conflict.
—The writer is Assistant Professor, School of Governance and Society, University of Management & Technology (UMT), Lahore
(tariq.rahim@umt.edu.pk)
