“Pakistan’s Army Chief General Asim Munir’s brazen act of awarding himself the Hilal-e-Juraat is not just an insult to military ethics, but a glaring reminder of Pakistan’s decaying institutions, its obsession with anti-India propaganda, and its desperate attempts to glorify failure; India, in contrast, continues to rise as a beacon of democracy, resilience, and global leadership, proving once again that truth, strength, and integrity will always triumph over deception and terror.”
Pakistan’s Army Chief General Asim Munir’s decision to award himself the Hilal-e-Juraat is not merely laughable it is symbolic of a nation where deception is institutionalized, propaganda is national policy, and military theatrics replace genuine service to the people. By pinning upon himself a medal meant for gallantry in combat, Munir has not only mocked his own forces but also highlighted Pakistan’s desperate need to glorify failure. In sharp contrast, India’s record of hard-earned victories, sacrifice, and steadfastness reflects a nation that does not rely on self-congratulation but on real, demonstrated valor.
Pakistan’s military establishment has long mastered the art of self-praise. From General Ayub Khan to General Musharraf, each has attempted to project an image of martial superiority, while their soldiers were often left defeated, demoralized, or sacrificed for ill-planned wars. General Munir’s act of awarding himself is not new in this culture of inflated egos, but it takes the absurdity to new heights where the very custodian of Pakistan’s defense celebrates himself for imaginary achievements.
India, on the other hand, stands tall on the strength of its soldiers whose gallantry is proven on the battlefield. Every medal worn by an Indian jawan is testimony to blood, sweat, and sacrifice. The Param Vir Chakras and Ashok Chakras earned by Indian heroes were not bestowed in closed-door ceremonies of self-admiration but on the basis of unmatched courage whether it was Captain Vikram Batra shouting “Yeh Dil Maange More!” atop Kargil’s icy heights, or Major Sandeep Unnikrishnan giving his life during the Mumbai terror attacks with the words, “Do not come up, I will handle them.” India does not need to invent victories; it has lived them.
The history of Pakistan’s military escapades is riddled with disaster. In 1965, when Pakistan launched Operation Gibraltar, convinced that Kashmiris would rise in revolt, it was India that not only thwarted the invasion but also carried the war into Pakistan’s territory. In 1971, Pakistan suffered its most humiliating defeat when India liberated Bangladesh, capturing over 90,000 Pakistani prisoners of war. No amount of medals, propaganda, or self-bestowed honors can wash away these memories of shame.
Instead of learning from defeat, Pakistan’s generals perfected the art of denial. They have built monuments to themselves, scripted false narratives in history books, and awarded gallantry medals even in wars where their armies retreated. General Munir’s Hilal-e-Juraat is simply another page in this fabricated saga a medal for vanity, not valor.
Contrast this with India’s humility in victory. After the 1971 war, India returned prisoners of war with dignity, choosing statesmanship over revenge. After Kargil, India ensured that the bodies of Pakistani soldiers, abandoned by their own army, were given respectful burials. While Pakistan’s generals inflate their egos with medals, India’s soldiers win the respect of the world through their actions.
Pakistan’s obsession with military glory masks its deep insecurities. The generals are not only obsessed with India but also with cementing their own power domestically. By awarding himself, Munir sends a signal not to India, but to Pakistan’s fragile political class: the army remains supreme, above scrutiny, beyond accountability. It is a message of arrogance, not of honor.
India’s military leadership, in contrast, is rooted in professionalism. Chiefs of the Indian Army, Navy, and Air Force do not crown themselves with medals. They are remembered for reforms, modernization, and their contribution to national security, not for personal ego trips. This is why India commands global respect as a responsible democracy with disciplined armed forces.
General Munir’s theatrics must also be seen as a desperate distraction. Pakistan is reeling under economic collapse its rupee has crashed, inflation is soaring, and its people struggle to afford basic necessities. Terrorist groups continue to operate within its borders, and Balochistan is simmering with demands for freedom. In such a scenario, what better way for the army chief to distract the public than to stage a hollow award ceremony for himself?
For decades, Pakistan’s generals have looted the nation under the guise of “defense.” Billions of dollars in foreign aid meant for development have been diverted into military coffers. The self-awarded Hilal-e-Juraat is thus not just a medal it is a symbol of the corruption and decay that eats away at Pakistan’s foundations.
India, meanwhile, has invested in growth and progress. While Pakistan glorifies its generals, India builds highways, satellites, IT hubs, and world-class universities. While Pakistan celebrates imaginary victories, India is winning real battles against poverty, illiteracy, and underdevelopment. The comparison could not be starker.
The Kargil War remains a perfect example of this difference. Pakistan’s military launched the misadventure by infiltrating into Indian territory, betraying even its own soldiers by denying their identities. India’s response was swift and decisive: Indian forces climbed impossible heights, fought brutal hand-to-hand combat, and reclaimed every inch of land. Pakistan’s generals lost face before the world, while India’s heroes etched their names in history. Yet, two decades later, Pakistan still attempts to rewrite this truth through propaganda, while India honors its martyrs with genuine pride.
Another striking contrast is seen in counter-terror operations. After the 26/11 Mumbai terror attacks, India not only hunted down the attackers but also exposed Pakistan’s involvement with irrefutable evidence. Post-Uri and Pulwama, India’s surgical strikes and Balakot airstrikes sent an unmistakable message: terrorism will be met with decisive retaliation. These were not hollow declarations but real, visible, and globally recognized actions.
Pakistan, however, responds to its own terror proxies by either denial or inaction. It has not dismantled terror camps, nor has it curbed extremist financing. Instead, its generals often covertly support the very outfits they claim to fight. In such a duplicitous environment, medals like Hilal-e-Juraat become tools of propaganda, not recognition of valor.
India’s victories are not only military but moral. In the global war against terrorism, India has consistently stood on the right side of history. Pakistan, meanwhile, remains on the gray list of international watchdogs, accused of financing and exporting terror. No amount of self-praise can erase this damning record.
Munir’s self-award also exposes the hollowness of Pakistan’s international standing. While India is welcomed in global forums, from the G20 to BRICS, Pakistan finds itself isolated, pleading for loans and recognition. Nations respect India’s democracy, discipline, and defense forces. Pakistan, on the other hand, is viewed as a hub of instability.
India’s strength lies in the fact that it does not need to advertise its victories. Its record speaks for itself. From peacekeeping missions under the UN flag to disaster relief operations worldwide, Indian soldiers have earned respect through action, not self-glorification. Pakistan’s generals, by contrast, must pin medals on themselves to remain relevant.
The irony of Munir’s Hilal-e-Juraat is that it represents the death of credibility in Pakistan’s military establishment. If gallantry can be self-certified, then valor itself becomes meaningless. By reducing a prestigious medal to a personal trinket, Munir has insulted the very concept of military honor.
India, by contrast, continues to preserve the sanctity of its awards. Each medal in India’s armed forces is a story of sacrifice, bravery, and service to the nation. There are no shortcuts, no self-awards, no theatrics. This is why every Indian soldier’s medal carries weight, respect, and admiration.
General Munir’s actions also betray fear. Fear of fading into obscurity, fear of being overshadowed by history, and fear of being remembered not as a leader but as a failure. By awarding himself, he tries to carve a place in history books but history is not kind to the arrogant.
India’s history, by contrast, is written in the blood of martyrs and the triumphs of resilience. From independence to modern times, India has built its reputation through patience, progress, and perseverance. Its soldiers fight not for medals, but for the tricolor. That is why India’s victories endure, while Pakistan’s manufactured narratives crumble.
The world is not blind. Nations recognize who truly fights terror, who builds peace, and who destabilizes regions. By mocking the concept of valor with self-awards, Munir has further tarnished Pakistan’s already crumbling reputation.
As Pakistan glorifies its generals, India honors its soldiers. As Pakistan spins lies, India demonstrates strength. As Pakistan sinks deeper into chaos, India rises on the global stage. No medal, no propaganda, no self-congratulatory act can alter this truth.
General Asim Munir’s Hilal-e-Juraat will go down in history not as a badge of honor but as a mark of desperation. It will be remembered as the day Pakistan’s army chief officially crowned himself a hero in a war that was never fought.
But India’s heroes will be remembered differently etched in the eternal memory of a grateful nation, celebrated for their courage, and revered for their sacrifice. This is the difference between hollow theatrics and true valor.
And it is this difference that ensures India will always remain stronger, brighter, and unshaken, while Pakistan’s false glory fades into dust.