India once prided itself on balancing ties across West Asia. Israel was a partner for defence and technology, the Gulf for energy and trade, Iran for connectivity. This balancing act allowed Delhi to maintain generally good relations with all sides. Modi’s embrace of Israel has shattered that balance. In a region where visibility equals policy, India is now seen as part of the same security architecture that shields Israel while Gaza burns and Iranian cities are bombed.
The risks are not abstract. India’s diaspora in the Gulf — over 6.8 million people — faces growing vulnerability. Remittances worth $129 billion in 2024 could be jeopardised if migrant workers find themselves in the crosshairs of public anger.
Economically, India is already paying the price. The closure of Hormuz threatens its energy security, while the Chabahar port project in Iran now looks doomed. For years, Washington pressed India to cut Russian oil imports, narrowing Delhi’s options further. Yet in a surprising twist, the US has now allowed India to resume buying Russian oil in order to bring global prices down. This waiver is not a gift. It is a reflection of Washington’s own vulnerability in a war that has disrupted energy markets. India may benefit in the short term by diversifying supplies, but the larger picture remains grim: Delhi’s dependence on US goodwill exposes its lack of strategic autonomy.
This contradiction is striking. On one hand, Modi has aligned India with Israel and the US, sacrificing ties with Iran and complicating relations with the Arab world. On the other, India is being asked to buy Russian oil to stabilise markets — a reminder that even Washington cannot fully control the fallout of this war. Modi’s gamble has tied India to Western priorities while leaving it exposed to the volatility of a region on fire.
The war has also inflamed public opinion across the Arab world. Debates about a “Greater Israel,” once fringe, have entered mainstream discourse, with Israeli leaders and US officials invoking biblical geography and expansionist claims. In this climate, India’s movement toward Tel Aviv may be read as legitimising ambitions that destabilise the region further.
India’s gamble also raises questions about its domestic politics. Modi’s government has often used foreign policy spectacles to bolster nationalist sentiment at home. The Israel visit was presented as proof of India’s rising global stature. Yet the costs of this alignment will be felt most acutely by ordinary Indians — through higher fuel prices, disrupted remittances and the vulnerability of migrant workers.
The larger question is whether Modi’s embrace of Israel strengthens India’s position in West Asia or undermines it. The unfolding war suggests the latter. India is exposed to economic shocks, diaspora vulnerability and diplomatic isolation. Modi may have sought to showcase India as a rising power with strong alliances, but he has instead tied Delhi to the most volatile fault lines of the region.
Pakistan, meanwhile, has chosen a different path. Months before Modi’s Israel visit, Islamabad signed a defence pact with Saudi Arabia, reaffirming its role as a strategic partner of the Kingdom. Simultaneously, Pakistan has been actively engaging with other key stakeholders — Iran, Turkey and the UAE — positioning itself as a country that talks to all sides rather than choosing one camp.
For Pakistan, the answer lies in seizing the diplomatic and economic space India may be leaving behind. By reaffirming solidarity with Palestine, promoting Gwadar as a hub for connectivity, and presenting itself as a measured actor in a region on fire, Islamabad can deepen its relevance. Modi’s gamble has opened the door. The question is whether Pakistan will walk through it.