India’s victory in the Asia Cup 2025 should have been a moment of pride, celebration, and cricketing glory. Not only did India lift the coveted trophy, but it also defeated Pakistan three times in the same tournament, an achievement that in sporting terms would normally go down as historic. Yet, instead of joy and mutual respect that the gentleman’s game is supposed to foster, the atmosphere around these matches was one of revenge, hostility, and political symbolism. What should have been celebrated as a testament to skill, endurance, and teamwork has been transformed into a proxy war between two nuclear-armed neighbors.
The transformation of cricket into a war-like event has several implications. At the surface level, it intensifies hatred among the masses. Every ball, every wicket, every six becomes a question of national honor. Losing to Pakistan is viewed as a betrayal, while winning against them is treated as revenge. Social media pours fuel into the fire, where memes, abusive posts, and hate campaigns dominate the discourse instead of healthy cricket analysis. The essence of cricket – camaraderie, respect for opponents, and the beauty of the sport – is lost in this toxic noise.
The cost of this hostility is massive. Trade between India and Pakistan could have been worth billions of dollars annually, given their geographical proximity and shared cultural consumption. Imagine cheaper agricultural goods, textile trade, technology exchange, and tourism across the borders – it would create jobs, boost industries, and reduce dependence on distant markets. Yet, decades of mistrust have kept these opportunities locked away. Instead, both nations waste resources on defense buildups, propaganda wars, and now even politicizing cricket. The Asia Cup victory thus becomes symbolic – India won on the scoreboard, but both countries lost economically, diplomatically, and culturally.
History reminds us that Indo-Pak cricket once carried the potential to unite. Tours in the 1970s and 80s, though politically charged, also allowed families to connect, artists to perform across borders, and businesses to explore partnerships. Matches were thrilling but not venomous. Even in defeat, there was admiration for players like Wasim Akram, Javed Miandad, Sachin Tendulkar, or Rahul Dravid. Today, that admiration has been replaced with hostility. Pakistani cricketers are demonized in Indian media, and Indian cricketers are portrayed as villains across the border. This is not sportsmanship; this is propaganda warfare using cricket as a tool.
The irony is that neither country truly benefits from this climate. Ordinary fans lose the joy of watching cricket as an art form. Talented cricketers from both nations lose the opportunity to test themselves against each other in bilateral series, as political tensions have frozen sporting ties. Businesses lose potential profits from cricket tourism, broadcasting, and sponsorship deals that Indo-Pak matches could generate in a normal environment. Even the regional image of South Asia suffers, as cricket-loving nations like Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, and Afghanistan find themselves sidelined while the India-Pakistan rivalry dominates headlines with negativity.
What deepens the tragedy is that third-world countries and global powers outside South Asia silently encourage this hostility. For them, a divided India and Pakistan mean easier strategic maneuvering. Western arms manufacturers benefit from the defense race, while international media thrives on the drama of Indo-Pak clashes. Geopolitically, if India and Pakistan remain enemies, the dream of a strong, united South Asia that could compete with other global blocs will never materialize. The cricket rivalry is just a smaller reflection of this larger geopolitical trap.
The Asia Cup 2025 is a case study in this misplaced nationalism. Yes, India won the trophy. But the real question is – did we uphold the gentleman’s spirit of cricket? Did we respect the game, the opponent, and the broader values of sportsmanship? Sadly, the answer is no. Cricket has been reduced to yet another instrument of hostility, where winning is not about excellence but about crushing the other side. In that sense, India may have won the Asia Cup, but it lost the moral victory that comes with playing cricket in its purest form.
If one looks at it from the perspective of ordinary citizens, the frustration becomes clearer. An Indian trader would prefer to sell goods across the border rather than face bureaucratic red tape in Europe. A Pakistani student would prefer to study in Delhi or Bengaluru rather than struggle for expensive education in Western countries. Families divided by Partition still dream of visiting ancestral lands across the Radcliffe Line. Artists, singers, and filmmakers on both sides long for collaboration. But all of this becomes impossible when cricket itself – a sport that could have been a bridge – becomes another wall of separation.
The way forward requires courage, both from political leaders and from civil societies. First, cricket must be depoliticized. The boards of both countries should ensure that players are respected, not demonized, and that fans are educated about the difference between sporting rivalry and hatred. Second, media on both sides must act responsibly, resisting the temptation to sensationalize every Indo-Pak clash as a war. Third, people-to-people connections in trade, tourism, and culture must be revived, because only when citizens see tangible benefits of peace will they resist the manipulation of politicians.
Cricket can still be a tool of healing. A bilateral series hosted on neutral grounds, exchange programs for young cricketers, and cultural festivals around matches could remind both sides that they share more similarities than differences. The game has the power to open conversations that politics cannot. But for that, we need to restore dignity to cricket. It must once again be seen as a sport, not as a battlefield.
The Asia Cup 2025 will be remembered for India’s dominance on the field, but history may also judge it as another lost opportunity – a moment when cricket could have healed wounds but instead deepened divides. For India and Pakistan, true victory will not come from runs and wickets alone, but from rediscovering the spirit of sportsmanship and using cricket as a bridge rather than a bomb. Until then, every “victory” will be hollow, because while one country may win the game, both will keep losing the cricket.
