Seventeen years after the blood-soaked streets of Mumbai bore the brunt of one of the deadliest terror attacks on Indian soil, the wheels of justice are finally turning with greater force. The recent extradition of Tahawwur Hussain Rana, a key accused in the 26/11 Mumbai attacks, marks a watershed moment in India’s enduring quest for accountability. A Pakistani-origin Canadian-American, Rana was arrested by the FBI in 2009 and, after serving time for terrorism-related charges in the United States, landed in India on April 10, 2025, under tight security. Now in 18-day custody with the National Investigation Agency (NIA), Rana’s arrival in Delhi is not merely about the trial of a man—it is about rewriting a long-stalled chapter of justice. The operation—top-secret and high-risk—was carried out with the kind of precision that mirrors the seriousness of the crime itself. With National Security Guard commandos, NIA officials, and airspace coordination between Indian and American authorities, Operation Rana was a rare moment of tactical clarity and silent cooperation.
At the heart of the prosecution’s case is Rana’s alleged role as an enabler—a man who facilitated David Coleman Headley’s reconnaissance of targets later devastated in the 2008 attack that killed 166 people. US court documents had earlier revealed that Rana’s immigration firm in Mumbai served as a front for Headley’s operations. That he shared both personal and ideological bonds with Headley makes Rana more than a peripheral figure—he is a vital link in the LeT-ISI-Pakistani Army terror ecosystem. Yet, broader questions remain. Why did the US opt for a plea bargain with Headley, effectively shielding him from extradition despite India’s persistent demands? While India must be grateful for the US administration’s final nod to Rana’s extradition, the contrasting treatment of Headley—arguably the more culpable conspirator—hints at strategic interests superseding judicial reciprocity. More disquieting is the fact that US intelligence had tracked Headley’s movements even before the 26/11 attacks, raising uncomfortable queries about missed signals and opaque motives.
It may be noted that the legal path to Rana’s extradition was anything but simple. Initiated during the UPA government’s tenure, it involved extensive coordination, legal finesse, and unwavering diplomatic pressure. Former Union Home Minister P Chidambaram has highlighted that the process was long, institutionally driven, and not a product of instant statecraft. The temptation to politicise Rana’s extradition must be resisted. Justice for 26/11 is not the domain of one party or government—it is a national mandate that transcends electoral credit-seeking. With Rana now in Indian custody, the focus must shift to ensuring a robust, fair, and expeditious trial. The NIA has a tremendous responsibility to not just prosecute Rana but to also uncover deeper links—between terror outfits, foreign handlers, and the structural support they received in Pakistan. The trial must be unimpeachable, evidence-driven, and transparent. There can be no room for lapses that might later be exploited by defence lawyers or international detractors.
India must also use this moment to push global diplomatic forums for greater accountability from Pakistan. The seven LeT commanders still walking free—chief among them Hafiz Saeed—must be brought into the crosshairs of international justice mechanisms. The trial of Rana is about reigniting the global conscience that had once stood with India in the aftermath of 26/11. For the families of the victims and the spirit of Mumbai, justice delayed has always felt like justice denied. With Rana now facing Indian law, the scales may finally begin to balance. The world will watch. And India must deliver—if not vengeance, then justice.