When India launched airstrikes across the border targeting civilian areas in multiple Pakistani cities, it wasn’t just a provocation—it was a deliberate attempt to reset the rules of engagement. New Delhi wanted to demonstrate escalation dominance through airpower, expecting Pakistan to absorb the blow or respond defensively. That didn’t happen. Within minutes, the Pakistan Air Force (PAF) was in the air—coordinated, alert, and executing a response calibrated to deliver impact without triggering uncontrolled war.
What followed was not symbolic. Seven Indian aerial assets were downed, including high-value fighter platforms—even Rafales. The aircraft India had paraded as a regional game-changer simply didn’t survive their first real encounter. And this wasn’t a fluke. It was the outcome of doctrinal clarity, system integration, and operational readiness. The scoreboard—7–0 in Pakistan’s favour—wasn’t just about numbers. It was about credibility.
Pakistan didn’t throw everything at the wall. This was a multidomain response. The PAF flew in with full support—jamming, drone ISR, cyber disruption, and real-time intelligence loops. India’s sensors were degraded. Its aircraft were operating in compromised conditions. Pilots lost situational awareness. PAF’s aircraft, on the other hand, were flying in sync with a layered operational network. This was the difference between a platform-centric force and a domain-integrated one.
After the initial exchange, Pakistan announced the launch of Operation Bunyan-un-Marsoos. It lasted just one day—but one day was all it needed. This wasn’t about dragging the region into a prolonged escalation. It was about delivering a clear, controlled message: if Indian aggression continues, it will carry real cost. The operation also fell within the framework of Pakistan’s Quid Pro Quo Plus doctrine—a posture of proportionate retaliation with built-in escalation management. But this time, it wasn’t just about symmetry. It was also about avenging the civilian lives lost in India’s initial strikes. Pakistan made the decision to target Indian military infrastructure—not cities, not civilian sites—because deterrence doesn’t need to mirror the enemy’s recklessness. It just needs to be believed.
The PAF was at the heart of it all. This wasn’t the air force playing backup. This was the PAF as the central arm of national strategy—executing a precision campaign with deliberate tempo and tight coordination. The most symbolic moment came when a strike destroyed India’s S-400 air defence system at Adampur airbase. This system had been sold—both literally and politically—as a shield. Within minutes, it was gone. It never even got a shot off. That changed perceptions overnight.
Across that single day, the PAF hit multiple Indian military positions—missile depots, forward airfields—but carefully avoided civilian targets. Every action was mapped, timed, and selected for operational relevance. Pakistan also deployed unmanned aerial vehicles, electronic support assets, and space-based ISR, demonstrating that its airpower doesn’t fly alone—it flies as part of a wider net.
What the world witnessed wasn’t just a response—it was a doctrinal shift made real. Pakistan’s airpower is no longer about defending space—it’s about shaping it. Platforms like the JF-17 Thunder—fully sovereign, updated block by block, and integrated into the country’s command infrastructure—proved they could do what India’s imported Rafales couldn’t. And that was the point. This was never about flash—it was about fit.
India miscalculated. It believed that escalation would force Pakistan onto the backfoot. Instead, it triggered a response that exposed serious gaps in India’s own planning, systems integration, and platform readiness. The silence from Indian officials afterward was telling. Claims were quietly walked back. Damage control replaced press conferences. Foreign analysts—not just regional ones—began to note that India’s technological advantage failed to deliver under pressure.
In contrast, Pakistan didn’t beat its chest. Its messaging was tight. The PAF did its job and stepped back. Military officials made it clear: Pakistan was not seeking escalation. But it would not allow space for aggression to go unanswered. That balance—strength with restraint—was what gave the operation its lasting impact.
Operation Bunyan-un-Marsoos will be studied not for how long it lasted, but for how little time it took to reset the calculus. In 24 hours, Pakistan re-established deterrence, exposed inflated capability myths, and reminded the region—and the world—that airpower isn’t about what you buy. It’s about what you can actually do when the time comes.
And in that moment, the Pakistan Air Force delivered—clean, fast, and unmistakably in command.
Author: Zohaib Altaf is an Associate Director at the Center for International Strategic Studies AJK. He specializes in nuclear politics, strategies, and emerging technologies. Altaf has contributed to national and international publications including South Asian Voices, The Diplomat, and the South China Morning Post.
