Top Lashkar Terrorist Saifullah Khalid, Involved in Pahalgam Attack, Killed by Unknown Gunmen in Pakistan

The elimination of top Lashkar-e-Taiba commander Saifullah Khalid in Pakistan’s Sindh province—reportedly by unknown gunmen—has not only shocked the regional intelligence community but has also sent a chilling signal across South Asia: the nature of warfare is evolving rapidly and irreversibly. With the covert success of what sources are now informally referring to as "Operation Sindoor," a new, more concealed phase of warfare has seemingly begun—one that is underground, deniable, and increasingly asymmetric.

This phase is marked not by armies clashing across borders, but by precision strikes, plausible deniability, psychological manipulation, and strategic sabotage—a war without declaration, fought in shadows.


Though officially unconfirmed by either side, Saifullah Khalid's killing bears all the hallmarks of a high-level surgical operation. Reports from local media in Pakistan’s Badin district suggest a clean and clinical strike: no warning, no mess, and no public claim of responsibility. The attack occurred in the heart of Sindh, far from the traditional theatre of Kashmir, hinting at a deep penetration of surveillance and strike capability.

Unofficially dubbed "Operation Sindoor" by Indian observers and security insiders—“Sindoor” referencing both the Sindh province and the sacred vermillion that signifies protection and victory—the operation signals not just retaliation, but a paradigm shift.

Historically, South Asia's conflicts—especially those involving India and Pakistan—have played out across visible borders: wars in 1947, 1965, 1971, and 1999 were fought over territory, often with tanks, artillery, and infantry divisions.

But after Balakot (2019) and now Sindoor (2025), it is clear that traditional warfare has yielded to something stealthier. No longer are skirmishes confined to mountain passes or Line of Control crossings; they now span cyberspace, intelligence corridors, diplomatic chessboards, and even foreign soil.

Khalid's killing is a demonstration of capability and willpower—the ability to strike at the roots, not just the branches, of terror.


So, what does an “underground war” look like?

Clandestine Operations & Targeted Killings:
Increasingly, states are relying on deniable, quick, and targeted eliminations of high-value individuals. These operations are designed not for mass impact but for surgical decapitation—removing key nodes in a terror or insurgent network.Cyber Warfare & Information Disruption:
Parallel to physical strikes is the battlefield of bytes. Cyber attacks, misinformation campaigns, data theft, and surveillance hacks now form a major pillar of modern warfare. In many cases, these attacks are more damaging than physical strikes, especially when they destabilize financial systems or democratic institutions.Espionage & Counter-Espionage:
Agencies like India’s R&AW and Pakistan’s ISI are now locked in a high-stakes intelligence chess game. What used to be a quiet backroom operation has now become central to strategic national objectives.Psychological Operations (PsyOps):
The war is increasingly about winning perceptions, not just positions. Discrediting opponents, inciting internal revolts, or seeding doubt in command structures through narrative warfare has become routine.India’s alleged reach into Pakistan’s interior marks a strategic escalation, but not one that will necessarily lead to open conflict. Instead, it suggests a new doctrine: if terror cannot be stopped at the borders, it will be uprooted at its source—discreetly, effectively, and without flags.

For Pakistan, this incident is more than just a tactical embarrassment. It’s a strategic vulnerability exposed. If a high-profile terror commander can be eliminated in the heart of Sindh without warning, what else might be penetrable?

This might explain the sudden silence from both sides. Acknowledging the hit would mean admitting that war has entered the bloodstream of the state—too dispersed to isolate, too embedded to ignore.
India appears to be pursuing what analysts call a “Silent Retaliation Doctrine.” Unlike Cold Start or open surgical strikes, this doctrine doesn’t require public applause. Instead, it relies on a long memory, careful surveillance, and ruthless patience.

Each terror attack, under this doctrine, adds a name to a list—not for trial, but for eventual elimination. Operation Sindoor may not be the first, and it certainly won’t be the last. It sends a message: you may run, but the reckoning will come—without warning, without drama.

While underground war is tactically cleaner and strategically effective, it comes with risks. Misidentification, diplomatic blowback, and unintended escalation can quickly turn a covert operation into an international crisis. The possibility of proxy groups retaliating in unpredictable ways always looms large.

Moreover, this kind of warfare can blur moral and legal boundaries, challenging international norms on sovereignty and rules of engagement.

This isn't just an India-Pakistan phenomenon. The U.S. drone strike that killed Qassem Soleimani, Israel’s Mossad-led operations inside Iran, Russia’s poisonings in the UK, and China’s covert influence campaigns worldwide—all point toward a global evolution of warfare.

Nation-states are moving from overt invasions to covert infiltrations, relying more on technology, informants, and deniable assets than on boots on the ground.

In this context, Operation Sindoor isn't an anomaly—it’s part of the new global template.

The post-Sindoor world is one where victories are whispered, not paraded. Where battlegrounds are mobile, anonymous, and psychological. Where nations strike not at armies, but at individuals and systems.

In such a world, security isn’t just about defending borders; it’s about managing narratives, controlling data, and eliminating threats before they even surface.

Saifullah Khalid's death may not have made global headlines, but in the covert corridors of power, it was heard loud and clear. It wasn't just the fall of a terrorist—it was the announcement of a new era.

One in which war has gone underground—and everyone is watching their back.