In a dramatic escalation of South Asia’s already tense security environment, Pakistan’s Chief of Army Staff, Field Marshal Asim Munir, delivered an explicit nuclear threat against India during a high-profile visit to the United States. Speaking at a US military event in Tampa, Florida, on August 8, 2025, Munir’s remarks not only rattled the region but also drew swift condemnation from New Delhi and raised urgent questions about Washington’s response.
According to reporting by Daijiworld Media Network and other outlets, Munir warned, “We are a nuclear nation. If we think we are going down, we’ll take half the world down with us… We will wait for India to build a dam, and when it does so, we will destroy it with 10 missiles… We have no shortage of missiles, praise be to God.” The comments, made at the change of command ceremony for US Central Command (CENTCOM), were unmistakable in their intent and scope, targeting India’s hydropower projects on the Indus River and its tributaries as potential triggers for nuclear conflict.
For many observers, Munir’s words represented more than mere sabre-rattling. According to Washington-based analysis, this was a calculated act of nuclear brinkmanship—a well-worn tactic in Pakistan’s strategic playbook, often used to shield and enable lower-intensity proxy warfare, particularly in the disputed region of Kashmir. This pattern, critics argue, has allowed Pakistan’s military to provide cover for militant groups while maintaining plausible deniability in the international arena.
The timing of Munir’s remarks was especially sensitive. Just months earlier, on April 22, 2025, the Pahalgam massacre shocked India and the world when terrorists killed 26 tourists in Jammu and Kashmir after segregating them based on religion. In the days leading up to that attack, Munir had intensified communal rhetoric, proclaiming that Hindus and Muslims were fundamentally different and “incompatible to live together.” For many in India, these statements were seen as dangerous signals—implicit encouragement to terror outfits long associated with Pakistan’s security establishment.
India’s response was swift and unequivocal. The Ministry of External Affairs condemned Munir’s incendiary remarks, urging the international community to “draw its own conclusions about the irresponsibility inherent in such statements.” The ministry added that Munir’s threats “only reinforce long-held doubts over the integrity of nuclear command and control in a state whose military operates in concert with terrorist groups.” India further emphasized that it “will not succumb to nuclear blackmail” and expressed regret that such threats were issued “from the soil of a friendly third country.”
The controversy quickly spilled over into diplomatic and public discourse. On August 23, Indian Defence Minister Rajnath Singh publicly addressed Munir’s comments, describing them as reflective of a “predatory” mindset and an admission of Pakistan’s failures. Referring indirectly to Munir’s comparison of Pakistan to a “dumper truck” and India to a “shining Mercedes,” Singh remarked, “If two countries got independence together and one built an economy like a sports car with hard work, right policies, and vision, while the other remained stuck in failure, it is their own doing. This is not a joke, it is a confession.”
Singh’s remarks, reported by Daijiworld Media Network, underscored a broader narrative of India’s economic and technological ascendancy. He pointed to India’s robust growth in defence exports—from Rs 686 crore in 2013-14 to Rs 23,622 crore in 2024-25—and ambitious targets of Rs 30,000 crore in 2025-26 and Rs 50,000 crore by 2029. Highlighting the government’s push for indigenisation, Singh noted that five positive indigenisation lists now cover 509 platforms, systems, and weapons slated for domestic production, with 75 percent of the defence capital procurement budget reserved for Indian companies.
Recent breakthroughs were also spotlighted, including orders worth Rs 66,000 crore for 97 Tejas fighter aircraft from Hindustan Aeronautics Limited (HAL), supplementing an earlier order of 83 aircraft valued at Rs 48,000 crore. Singh reiterated India’s plans for fifth-generation fighter aircraft and indigenous aircraft engines, positioning the country as a rising force in global defence manufacturing.
But the heart of the matter remains the dangerous nexus between Pakistan’s military command structure and its stewardship of nuclear weapons. As Washington sources note, Pakistan is one of the few nuclear-armed states where the arsenal is firmly under military, rather than civilian, control. With a decades-long history of nurturing militant groups—used as proxies against neighbors from Afghanistan to India—Pakistan’s current posture raises fears of catastrophic convergence. The risk, experts warn, is not hypothetical: in times of internal instability or radicalization within the military, vulnerabilities could emerge, potentially allowing extremist groups to access nuclear materials or delivery systems.
Munir’s invocation of “10 missiles” over a dam project, then, is not dismissed as empty bluster by seasoned analysts. Instead, it is seen as a window into the mindset of Pakistan’s military leadership, where nuclear weapons are viewed not just as a deterrent, but as a political shield for sub-conventional warfare through groups such as Lashkar-e-Taiba, Jaish-e-Mohammad, and Hizbul Mujahideen—particularly in the context of Kashmir.
India’s recent military response, Operation Sindoor, launched on May 7, 2025, targeted terrorist infrastructure in Pakistan-controlled territories in retaliation for the Pahalgam attack. The operation, which lasted four days and ended on May 10, demonstrated India’s willingness to take decisive action against cross-border terrorism. Singh emphasized that India’s ethos measures strength “not by dominance but by care, global good, and national honour.” He also used the occasion to urge foreign companies to invest in India’s burgeoning defence sector.
The international ramifications of Munir’s remarks are profound. For decades, the United States has positioned itself as a champion of nuclear restraint and non-proliferation, pressuring countries like Iran to abandon their nuclear ambitions through sanctions and, at times, targeted strikes. For a Pakistani army chief to issue open nuclear threats against India—a US partner—on American soil, and for Washington to remain silent, could undermine decades of diplomatic balancing and erode trust among US allies in the region.
Analysts warn that silence from Washington may be interpreted in both Islamabad and New Delhi as tacit acceptance of Munir’s escalation. A measured but firm response, they argue, would reaffirm US commitment to nuclear restraint, reassure India of its strategic partnership, and send a clear message to Pakistan’s military establishment that nuclear brinkmanship and proxy warfare will not be tolerated—especially not on American soil.
As the dust settles from this latest episode, the world is left to ponder the implications of dangerous rhetoric left unchecked. In a region where history has shown that words can swiftly give way to violence, the stakes are higher than ever. The challenge now is for global leaders to address not just the symptoms, but the underlying dynamics that allow nuclear threats and proxy conflict to persist side by side.