In a recent article in The Indian Express, Shashi Tharoor, a Congress MP from Kerala, praised Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s foreign policy of silence on the West Asian war as an exercise in responsible statecraft. I disagree with his position.

“Let me state clearly, I concur that the war cannot be justified under international law,” Tharoor wrote. “It violates the very principles India has historically stood for — respect for sovereignty, non-aggression, and the peaceful resolution of disputes.” Yet a key element of his defense of India’s current policy is to invoke India’s own past failures — its silence when the Soviet Union violated international law in Hungary in 1956, Czechoslovakia in 1968, and Afghanistan in 1979. His argument would have been better served had he cited examples of India upholding these principles rather than departing from them.

Tharoor concedes that the United States and Israel have no case for preemptive self-defense, and that India should have promptly issued condolences on the death of Iran’s supreme leader. But he added, “I will not condemn the government for choosing silence over confrontation.” This is the core fallacy of his argument — he frames it as a binary choice: silence or confrontation. Is there not a third way?

Modi himself demonstrated this third way when he visited Moscow after Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and — without condemning Putin, while affirming India’s partnership with Russia — stated clearly that this was not an era of war. He was widely praised for it. The same could have been done here.

One can stand up for principle without adopting a confrontational posture. For a country that prizes strategic autonomy, this is precisely the moment to exercise it. And for a country demanding a permanent United Nations Security Council seat, veto power, and prominent roles in the World Bank and IMF — if India sits out on matters of principle and international law, why should the world trust it to uphold them? Silence hurts India’s leadership ambitions.

Tharoor wrote: “No one holds a monopoly over patriotism, nor over the interpretation of the values taught by Gandhi or Nehru. The true tribute to their legacy lies in applying their values wisely to the realities of our time, not in self-gratifying denunciations that could jeopardize our interests.” This is striking given that Modi’s ruling party routinely labels critics as anti-national and has worked to demonize Gandhi and Nehru and dismantle their legacies. That Tharoor framed Modi’s foreign policy as an expression of Gandhian and Nehruvian values is a remarkable juxtaposition.

Tharoor described India’s foreign policy objective as protecting sovereignty while speaking for global justice. The word choice is telling: he said “speaking,” not “acting.” This implies it is acceptable to pay lip service to global justice while acting solely to protect India’s sovereignty — a position most nations hold, though few state it so plainly.

Moreover, this silence appears to have become a pattern and increasingly suggests a strategic bias. For example, India did not speak up about the genocide in Gaza. Israel’s aggressive conduct and extensive human rights violations in Gaza have had no discernible impact on India’s posture toward Israel. At the same time, the Modi government — while using silence as a strategic diplomatic tool in pursuit of its foreign policy goals — has also demonstrated moments of explicit alignment.

In his speech in Jerusalem, Modi exercised what Tharoor would likely applaud as strategic silence by not mentioning the plight of Palestinians, or the suffering and deaths of thousands upon thousands of women and children in Gaza. But would Tharoor also applaud the emphatic way the prime minister declared, “with full conviction,” that “India stands with Israel” — thereby potentially compromising what Tharoor himself characterizes as India’s grand strategy of multi-alignment? This is not strategic silence; it is an assertive articulation of position.

Tharoor concluded that recognizing geopolitical realities before taking a public stand is not moral surrender but responsible statecraft. But how is silence serving India’s economic interests? Nearly 10 million Indians work in the Gulf; over 60 percent of India’s energy comes from the region; and Iran is India’s gateway to Central Asia. Must India remain silent on whatever the United States or Israel do in order to protect all this?

Perhaps India should lower its foreign policy ambitions. India has projected itself as a Vishwa Guru (global teacher), as a model for the Global South, and as an important voice in shaping the global agenda. Yet it chooses silence to maintain favor with the United States and Israel.

Most commentators focus on the strategic advantages of silence and the material costs of speaking up for principles. What is less discussed, however, are the material consequences of silence itself. India remained silent when the supreme leader of Iran was assassinated, when an unarmed ship, IRIS Dena, that had participated in India’s MILAN 2026 exercise was sunk by the United States, and when the United States and Israel violated international law. It also maintained prolonged silence during what many describe as a genocide in Gaza. Such silence signals that India cannot be the voice of the Global South and will not speak up when nations face aggression or injustice.

This silence has both strategic and material consequences. Had India condemned the attacks on Iran early, or spoken up when the Iranian ship was sunk, it is possible that the 22 ships currently stranded in the Strait of Hormuz might already have reached India. Silence, therefore, carries tangible national interest-related costs. Silence on the United States’ Operation Epic Fury could become an epic folly.

I have long admired Shashi Tharoor as one of the most distinguished and articulate voices from India; whenever he speaks for India, he brings it credit. But recently, rather than sounding like an important voice of the opposition, he increasingly comes across as an apologist for the ruling party. Sadly, his commentary offers no new ideas for handling the crisis; it largely serves to justify a policy that is detrimental to India’s national interest.