A war neglected by the world — Afghanistan and Pakistan

By Farooq Tariq

Published date 5 March, 2026

First published at Europe Solidaire Sans Frontières.

The recent war between Afghanistan and Pakistan has been overshadowed by the attack on Iran by U.S. and Israeli imperialism. Yet the Afghan-Pakistan war, which began 21-22 February 2026 has resulted in heavy causalities on both sides. It was launched by the Pakistan Air Force airstrikes on Eastern Afghanistan (Nangarhar, Paktika, and Khost provinces).

The right-wing Pakistan Government of Mian Shahaz Sharif described these strikes as a response to consistent militant attacks inside Pakistan. He called them “targeted” on the camps of the Tehrik-i-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) and Islamic State — Khorasan Province.

On 26 February 2026, the Afghan Taliban government launched retaliatory attacks beginning with massive border clashes. Pakistan then launched a military campaign called “Operation Ghazab Lil Haq.” Pakistan’s defense minister announced the countries were in “open war” after several days of fighting. Airstrikes and artillery exchanges reportedly hit areas including Kabul, Kandahar, and Paktia. As of 5th March 2026, heavy shelling continued along the disputed Durand Line border between the two countries.

While both sides claim heavy military losses, actual numbers are disputed. Yet civilians are the main causalities as in any war, and tens of thousands of people are displaced near the border.

Despite’s Trump initially describing the Pakistani Air Force attack on different districts of Afghanistan as “good”, the coordinated attack on Iran by the United States and Zionist Israel has shifted world attention and Trump has also forgotten to comment on this war.

How has religious fanaticism spread in Afghanistan and Pakistan?

With complete silence by all the main imperialist countries toward this escalating war between Afghanistan and Pakistan, the role of U.S. imperialism in promoting religious fundamentalism in Afghanistan during the 1980s has been forgotten. Yet to understand the present war we must revisit the past.

A radical Afghan military officers’ group led by Noor Mohammed Tarakai was able to bring down the corrupt Daud government in 1978. A year later, the Soviet Union sent forces to shore up the new government.

This triggered Washington to work with the Saudi Kingdom to pour modern weapons and unleash massive economic support to the religious fanatic groups interested in bringing down the regime. Along with its support to these reactionary forces, U.S. foreign policy felt no shame in siding with the Zia Ul Haq military dictatorship in Pakistan. This despite the regime’s having just hanged deposed Prime Minister Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto in April 1979 on a false accusation of murder.

For over 10 years after the suspicious death of dictator Zia Ul Haq in an airplane accident, U.S. imperialism supported religious fanaticism in both countries. This meant support to the Pakistani governments led by Benazir Bhutto and Mian Nawaz Sharif, while aiding the Mujahidin in Afghanistan to come into power in 1992.

The Taliban used Pakistan to educate and train itself before being able to take over Kabul in 1996.

The Pakistan ruling elite welcomed Taliban government and gave an impression that this was their act. The Taliban’s first actions on assuming governmental power were the public hanging of Najib Ullah (who had remained in the UN headquarters in Kabul after being deposed in 1992) and the banning of girls’ education.

However, after 9/11, NATO forces led by the United States overthrew the Taliban. Despite the Taliban’s control over less than half of the country, toppling the regime and occupying the country was Washington’s demand, while other options were available for removing Taliban from power. By installing a pseudo-civilian government, the NATO occupation of Afghanistan led to the spread of religious fundamentalism in Pakistan.

In Pakistan General Musharaf had overthrown the Mian Nawaz Sharif right-wing government in 1999. The Khaiber PukhtonKhwa province, bordering Afghanistan, was led by the religious fanatic MMA [Islamic coalition ed] government, which provided support to the Taliban fleeing to Pakistan in the aftermath of the NATO attack. They encouraged the setting up of thousands of Madrassas, since 1980 which enabled the Taliban to capture real street power.

Following the withdrawal of U.S.-led forces on August 15, 2021, the Taliban returned to power. Despite vague promises, they established an all-male government led by Supreme Leader Mullah Hibatullah Akhundzada. This “second time” regime, following their 1996–2001 rule, prioritizes Taliban interpretation of strict Sharia laws.

The Indian connection

As of early 2026, the relationship between the Taliban government in Afghanistan and Indian right-wing government of Modi instituted a pragmatic relationship. While India does not formally recognize the Taliban regime, it upgraded its technical presence in Kabul to a full embassy and is actively engaging to protect its strategic, economic, and security interests in the region.

This relationship was created in response to the changing geopolitics of the South Asian region. Following the India-Pakistan four-day war in May 2025, U.S. imperialism lowered its relationship with India, apparently because Trump was annoyed at Modi’s refusal to stop the war. Although Pakistan had received and spent US$45 billion from China for developing the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC), Trump was favored by military generals and civilian government of Shahbaz Sharif over China.

The Trump card

Trump, to ensure that Pakistan was on his side before attacking Iran in June 2025, invited and warmly welcomed to the White House field marshal Asim Munir, anointing him as his “more favored general”. Days later, the U.S. Air Force and Navy attacked three nuclear facilities in Iran as part of its Twelve-Day War, carried out under the code name Operation Midnight Hammer. President Trump said the strikes “completely and totally obliterated” Iran’s key nuclear enrichment facilities. Despite this claim, Trump has again attacked Iran with the same excuse this February.

Meanwhile, Indian imperialism responded to the deepening U.S.-Pakistan relationship by providing more support to the Taliban. This resulted in more attacks inside Pakistan during the last six months,

The war

Pakistan’s launching a full-fledged attack on the Taliban-led government is related to escalating terrorist activities in KP province. It is estimated that almost 30% of the Khaiber Pakhtunkhawa (KP) province is effectively controlled by Tehreek Taliban Pakistan (TTP) at least at night, with full support from the Taliban in Afghanistan.

In January 2026, Pakistan recorded 87 militant attacks nationwide, 38 of them in KP, the highest among provinces. According to statistics released by the Islamabad-based think tank Pakistan Institute for Conflict and Security Studies (PICSS), combat-related deaths in January 2026 rose by 43% compared to December 2025. A total of 361 people were killed during the month.

In February 2026, there were major terrorist attacks in Khaiber Pakhtunkhwa Province. In a 6 February 2026 suicidal attack on an Islamabad Mosque, 40 were killed and more than 170 injured. The Islamic State–Khorasan (IS-K) targeted the Shia Mosque during Friday prayers.

In another major attack on 16 February 2026 at Bajaur district in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, 11 security personnel plus one child) were killed. The TTP claimed responsibility for bombing and shooting what were merciless and unrelenting attacks on mosques and markets. They were daring enough to take on hard targets, including army bases and airports, and shameless enough to take on soft ones, such as schools and shrines. They decapitated Pakistani police officers and soldiers, then uploaded videos to social media for the world to see.

The growing influence and persistent terrorist attacks are becoming a challenge to the Pakistani state. Between 2018-2022, Pakistan Prime Minister Imran Khan from the Tahreek Insaf (PTI), promoted negotiations with religious fanatics as a way to counter their influence. While he was in office, 12 hard-core members of the TTP were released from custody. In fact, Pakistan has previously negotiated at least a half-dozen “peace deals” with the TTP. These negotiations have reinforced the influence of religious fanatics, turning Pakistan into another Afghanistan.

As Ashan Butt, Associate Professor at George Mason University, wrote in Aljazeera on 27 Oct 2021:

The TTP’s desire is to overthrow, violently or otherwise, the Pakistani state and impose their interpretation of Sharia throughout the country. There is no offering short of this, no concession or act of generosity, that Islamabad will be able to buy TTP forbearance with.

In fact, all a peace deal will do — all it has ever done, when it comes to the TTP — is allowing it to regroup, reorganise, rearm, and bolster its capacity for death and destruction.

Imran Khan was the avatar for a deeply sympathetic position towards the Taliban. Not for nothing did he earn the moniker ‘Taliban Khan’.

Negotiation with religious fanatics is never an option for peace. Imran Khan, now imprisoned on corruption charges, later revealed that he had invited 5000 Taliban to Pakistan in the name of rehabilitation. After his government lost a vote of no confidence, the Taliban terrorist activities grew to a record level in all parts of Pakistan. Still till the present day, the PTI government in KP province continues to promote negotiations with fanatics.

Over 50,000 Pakistanis have been killed by terrorist attacks by the Taliban in Pakistan over the past 20 years.

After a series of disappointing performances by consecutive civilian governments since the departure of General Musharaf’s dictatorship in 2008, the overall Pakistani political landscape has moved further right. This is very favorable constituency for promotion of religious fundamentalist groups and ideology.

The civilian governments, instead of learning lessons, promote one or another other religious groups, only turning against them on another occasion. Then they attempt to rid the country of these state-sponsored religious fanatics by banning, jailing and killing them.

None of these religious fanatic organizations are Indigenous to Pakistan.

Despite these experiences, the military-dominated civilian governments never sever their relationship with those ideologies or develop effective strategies to counter them. Yet the military remains the de facto power broker, forging and dissolving alliances and governments, however best suited its interests. As a result, of Pakistan’s 29 Prime Ministers since independence in 1947, none has completed a full five-year term.

Military operations have never been a real solution to end the domination of religious fanaticism.

Military operations by Pakistan army

Pakistani forces have conducted at least 10 major military operations, along with numerous smaller operations, since 2001:

1. Operation Enduring Freedom (2001–2002),
2. Operation Al Mizan (2002–2006),
3. Operation Zalzala (2008),
4. Operations Sher Dil, Rah-e-Haq,
5. Rah-e-Rast (2007–2009),
6. Rah-e-Nijat (2009–2010),
7. Operation Zarb-e-Azb (2014–2016): Launched in June 2014 in North Waziristan after the Karachi airport attack, this massive, sustained offensive aimed to dismantle the TTP and allied foreign fighters, displacing hundreds of thousands,
8. Operation Radd-ul-Fasaad (2017–Present): A nationwide, broad-spectrum operation launched to eliminate the “residual/latent threat” of terrorism, combining military action with intelligence-based operations (IBOs),
9. Operation Azm-e-Istehkam (Announced 2024): A proposed, highly contentious, and, in some accounts, unlaunched operation aimed at curbing the resurgence of militants in the frontier regions,
10. Recent Kinetic Actions (2025):

None has resulted in the elimination of fanaticism, on the contrary more fanatic groups emerged.

The military has continued targeting militant hideouts in mountainous regions near the Afghan border, often using helicopters and, according to recent reports, initiating “open war” against the TTP due to increased insurgency.

Pakistan has two religious states on its borders: Iran and Afghanistan, but while the Taliban is always seeking to expand their religious revolution to Pakistan, Iran has never done so because of minority Shia community. The presence of these two states with religious extremist in power is another favorable objective realty for the spread of religious fundamentalist ideas.

After failing to curb the consistent rise of religious fanatic groups, a war has been started but it cannot lead to a permanent solution for either Afghanistan or Pakistan.

There will be more bloodshed despite a possible ceasefire between the two.

We cannot support this war. The bombing of Afghanistan or terrorism in Pakistan will not bring peace. Instead, we demand war and terrorist activities by the Taliban must stop immediately.

Neither Pakistan nor any other nation should recognise the Taliban government as the legitimate Afghan government. Trade must be restored with Afghanistan through the traders’ community independently of Afghan government.

Pakistani government must change its policies towards the fanatic religious groups. They must sever their state links to help them. There should be no state subsidies and no discriminatory laws against any religion or religious minority.

Further, the government must separate itself from the U.S. Trump administration. There should be no Pakistani representation on Trump’s so-called Board of Peace and a withdrawal of nominating Trump for the Noble Peace Prize.

These transitional measures cannot be expected of the present government of Pakistan, which has broken all records of sycophancy in support of Trump.

We must build our own political power independent of these capitalist and feudal led parties. That would be a permanent solution to the rise of religious fundamentalism — and a road towards Socialism.

Farooq Tariq is President Haqooq Khalq Party Pakistan, member global council Fight Inequality Alliance and executive committee member Asian Peoples Movement on Debt and Development (APMDD).

Afghanistan–Pakistan war, militarism and a left response to the regional crisis

By Farooq Sulehria & Alternative Viewpoint

Published date 5 March, 2026

A version of this was first published at Alternative Viewpoint.

As cross-border strikes intensify and Pakistan’s defence minister declares “open war” against the Afghan Taliban government, the long arc of Islamabad’s Afghanistan policy appears under severe strain. Is this merely another episode in a volatile frontier relationship — or the blowback of decades of militarised strategy and proxy politics?

In this conversation, Pakistani left activist, academic and journalist Farooq Sulehria examines the crisis through a structural lens: the legacy of “strategic depth,” the Frankenstein logic of jihadist patronage, the ideological character of the Taliban regime, and the dangers of campism within sections of the left. Rejecting both state militarism and theocratic authoritarianism, Sulehria argues that the current confrontation reflects a deeper crisis of the regional order — one whose costs will be borne overwhelmingly by working people on both sides of the Durand Line.

Pakistan’s defence minister has declared “open war” on the Afghan Taliban government. Is this escalation a tactical rupture or does it mark the exhaustion of Pakistan’s long-standing Afghanistan doctrine?

It is neither a tactical rupture nor the exhaustion of Pakistan’s “strategic depth” policy. Instead, the recent declaration of war by defence minister Khawaja Asif reflects Islamabad’s frustration over the ongoing conflict.

Prior to declaring war, Pakistan would have made preparations. It was only after exhausting other alternatives that Pakistan ultimately designated the Taliban regime — which they had assisted in establishing — as an adversary. Ironically, Asif expressed gratitude to Allah Almighty on his X account when the Taliban defeated the US and regained control of Kabul.

Border clashes between the two countries have escalated into Pakistani attacks on Kabul and other towns since October. Qatar, Turkey and China have facilitated 65 rounds of talks between Kabul and Islamabad since then. However, the Movement of Pakistani Taliban/Tehrik-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) has intensified its terrorist activities in Pakistan, having been provided safe havens in Afghanistan by the Taliban regime.

The dispute between Kabul and Islamabad arises from the TTP’s presence in Afghanistan. The TTP is targeting military and police forces in addition to civilians. Last year, nearly 1000 terror attacks were reported, the majority claimed by the TTP.

Since October, Pakistan has closed its border and halted trade with Afghanistan. As a landlocked country, Afghanistan relies on Pakistan for trade with India and has a significant dependence on Pakistani imports, particularly wheat, vegetables and medicines.

In the Balochistan province, nationalists have intensified their militant activities, occasionally attracting global attention. Pakistan accuses India of supporting these Baloch separatists. Furthermore, the Taliban regime has established relations with New Delhi, much to Islamabad’s frustration, to counter Pakistani pressure.

Domestically, Pakistan has justified the existence of safe havens for the Afghan Taliban in the aftermath of 9/11 under the concept of strategic depth. This concept suggests using Afghanistan as Pakistan’s “friendly backyard,” in the event of a conflict with the significantly larger India.

The concept of “strategic depth” has influenced Islamabad’s policy for decades. Has this doctrine now collapsed, and if so, what might take its place?

On the contrary, mainstream media commentators viewed as unofficial spokespersons of the Pakistani establishment have been talking of regime change in Kabul. At this stage, it is difficult to substantiate whether Islamabad is planning regime change in Kabul, especially given the lack of concrete evidence. However, such thinking cannot be ruled out.

Islamabad has been exploring the possibility of a coup or regime change that would benefit Pakistan. While such a coup or regime change would not solve Pakistan’s problems, such wild ideas reflect Islamabad’s obsession with strategic depth.

One may dismiss regime change as a conspiracy theory or conjectural fantasy, but the escalation to rein in the Taliban regime mirrors Islamabad’s desperation to pursue the idiomatic strategic depth.

Islamabad portrays the crisis as being centred on TTP sanctuaries in Afghanistan. To what degree is this conflict a result of Pakistan’s historical engagement in proxy warfare and its support for militant groups?

This is a classic example of Frankenstein’s monster or the sorcerer’s apprentice, as expressed in the German idiom.

Pakistan is both the origins and a fertile breeding ground for Islamic fundamentalism. Since the so-called “Afghan Jihad”, which was derisively termed the “Dollar Jihad” by domestic critics, Pakistan has fostered the Jihad industry.

Initially, the objective was to support the Afghan Mujahideen against the Soviet occupation; later, it was directed against India. The state’s classification of some Taliban members as “good” and others as “bad” indicates that its policy remains unchanged.

At the same time, how should we assess the Taliban regime’s responsibility? Has Kabul failed — or refused — to restrain cross-border militancy for ideological or strategic reasons?

Yes, the Afghan regime appears to have done little to rein in the TTP. Commentators have noted the regime’s inability to exert control over this group. There are ideological reasons for such an outcome as well as practical considerations and geopolitical calculations. The Taliban regime has adeptly and strategically utilised the TTP, to garner support from New Delhi.

Should the current confrontation be viewed primarily as a clash between two regimes driven by security concerns, both influenced by decades of conflict, or as merely a straightforward instance of aggression and retaliation?

Neither side appears willing to pursue diplomatic avenues.

This raises questions about the nature of the Taliban regime, which has implemented policies akin to women’s apartheid and has effectively introduced slavery, demonstrating a lack of belief in contemporary diplomatic practices and norms.

The Taliban has a limited social base and maintains control through fear and intimidation. Their support primarily derives from extremist religious factions within the country.

Meanwhile, the military, which governs the Islamic Republic of Pakistan, approaches every issue through a lens of securitisation.

Since returning to power in 2021, the Taliban have struggled with economic collapse, diplomatic isolation and internal factional tensions. How do these pressures shape their stance toward Pakistan?

As soon as they recaptured Kabul, they rebelled against Pakistan. It appears they recognised that Pakistan lacked the economic and diplomatic influence needed to provide the Taliban regime with legitimacy and stability.

They sought to establish relations with China, Russia, Turkey and the Gulf states, along with India, to Pakistan’s frustration. Islamabad was excluded from these developments.

Notably, immediately after the Taliban solidified their rule, second-tier officials began issuing statements critical of Pakistan. My Afghan comrades interpret these statements as attempts to garner social support within Afghanistan, where Pakistan is widely unpopular.

From a left perspective, how should one characterise the Taliban regime today: as a nationalist-Islamist formation seeking sovereignty or as a fundamentally reactionary project whose regional behaviour reflects its ideological core?

Unfortunately, there has been a tendency to characterise the Afghan Taliban as a form of nationalists. Tariq Ali’s work, The Forty-Year War in Afghanistan: A Chronicle Foretold, exemplifies this view, as he seeks to portray the Taliban as Islamo-nationalists. Such perspectives reveal a profound misunderstanding of the Taliban movement, which represents one of the most extreme manifestations of Islamic fundamentalism.

Nationalism emphasises the concepts of nation and national identity, language, history and culture. In contrast, Islamic fundamentalism prioritises Sharia, aiming to return to a perceived Muslim (Arab) past, in which the nation is regarded as a fifth column that threatens to divide the Ummah. Culture is perceived as an impurity, with cultural practices such as music and dance deemed sinful under Sharia law.

Interestingly, some leftist perspectives have absurdly characterised the Taliban as an expression of class struggle. During the war against Iraq, the Ayatollahs in Iran incorporated and subsumed nationalism into their Sharia project. Similarly, in their conflict with Pakistan, the Taliban regime references the nation alongside religion. However, this does not fundamentally alter their character.

In my opinion, attempts to frame the Taliban as nationalists or as subalterns involved in class struggle were early indicators of campism emerging in the aftermath of 9/11.

The Taliban claims that it defends Afghan sovereignty against violations by Pakistan. How does one critically engage that claim without romanticising a deeply authoritarian regime?

The Taliban regime is framing the Pakistani attacks as a violation of sovereignty. However, Pakistan is framing the TTP safe havens and their infiltration as a violation of sovereignty. It is a clash of barbarisms. Neither side can claim any moral superiority.

From one viewpoint, the monster had legitimate grievances against Herr Frankenstein. From another viewpoint, one may express sympathy for Victor Frankenstein. Tragically, innocent civilians will bear the consequences.

Since 1979, Afghans have continued living under hellish conditions. People in Pakistan, particularly in the bordering Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province, have suffered greatly since 9/11. Thousands of lives have been claimed through senseless violence by the Taliban, military operations conducted by the Pakistani state, and endless tribal and sectarian disputes triggered by this conflict.

We should avoid reducing it to an Af-Pak affair, however. Western imperialism is the original sinner here.

Regional powers — China, Iran, Russia, and Gulf states — have moved quickly to call for de-escalation. What does this episode reveal about the fragility of the wider regional order?

A couple of days after Pakistan’s declaration of war, the US-Israel attack on Iran and the ensuing situation have overshadowed the Af-Pak conflict.

This conflict is not only regional, but underscores the growing number of nation-state wars. The United Nations has been rendered obsolete. No matter how hypocritical and problematic the global liberal order was, the Trumpist alternative is proving even more dangerous.

Incidentally, Trump has praised the Pakistani attack on Afghanistan.

Both Pakistan and Afghanistan are grappling with severe economic crises. How does the militarised escalation relate to the realities of class — including unemployment, displacement, and refugees — on both sides of the Durand Line?

Indeed, this situation will disproportionately impact the working classes. Life is set to become even more arduous. The continuing conflict in West Asia will exacerbate their suffering.

In a conflict between a militarised post-colonial state and a theocratic regime, what principle should the left adopt? How can it oppose both militarism and religious authoritarianism without sliding into geopolitical campism?

To defeat the Taliban, Pakistan must adopt a secular approach. This is a fundamental precondition. The Taliban regime should not be recognised. Nevertheless, it is crucial to express solidarity with the Afghan people, particularly Afghan women.

The Af-Pak conflict has fostered chauvinism on both sides, which undermines working-class solidarity. The left should not align itself with either Islamabad or Kabul.

We oppose the war and demand justice and democracy, as well as an end to the apartheid faced by women in Afghanistan. We must hold both the Taliban and their imperial or regional backers accountable for their war crimes, just as we did with their predecessors, the Mujahideen.

Ironically, I have observed social media posts from some Pakistanis, including self-proclaimed leftists, who support the Pakistani invasion, citing the Taliban’s barbaric and fundamentalist nature as justification. This mindset can be described as “internal Orientalism”, rooted in Pakistani chauvinism to frame this conflict within the narrative of a Clash of Civilisations.

Does this crisis create an opening to rethink security-state politics across the region and is there any realistic space today for cross-border progressive solidarity between Pakistani and Afghan civil society forces?

Rather than focusing solely on an Af-Pak cross-border solidarity initiative, I propose a broader South Asia-wide project. We can realistically rely primarily on the diasporic Afghan progressives, given the severe repression of Afghanistan's civil society.

In Pakistan, progressive voices are marginalised. However, we urgently need such a project. By extending our efforts to encompass South Asia, we can strengthen and consolidate these initiatives. The newspaper I co-edit, Daily Jeddojehad (Struggle), will be taking some modest initial steps in this direction.

PAKISTAN’S WINDING ROAD TO THE BOMB

Farhatullah Babar 

Published January 11, 2026

EOS/DAWN

LONG READ

Zulfi kar Ali Bhutto (left) pictured alongside Munir Ahmad Khan (centre) and Dr Abdus Salam (right) during the inauguration ceremony of the Karachi Nuclear Power Plant (Kanupp) on November 28, 1972 | PAEC



BHUTTO’S SUMMIT WITH SCIENTISTS

I had not yet joined the Pakistan Atomic Energy Commission (PAEC) and was working as an information officer in the Press Information Department (PID), where each information officer is responsible for servicing the media needs of one or more ministries.

On a cold January day in 1972, a colleague in the PID responsible for media projection of scientific organisations talked about a planned meeting of the country’s scientists. President [Zulfikar Ali] Bhutto had called the meeting to frankly discuss what role they could play in national defence and security, he said. Where and when it was to be held, he was not sure. It would be at some undisclosed secret venue, he said.

He also said that prominent scientists and engineers had started arriving in Islamabad, waiting to be taken to the conference venue, which was known only to a few. There was confusion about the venue. When the word spread that it would be held in Quetta, some scientists actually travelled there, making their own private arrangements. In the morning, a military aircraft airlifted a precious human cargo of scientists and engineers from Islamabad. But instead of Quetta, it landed at Multan. Those who had already arrived in Quetta were herded to Multan in a special Pakistan Air Force aircraft.

No one was sure of the conference’s purpose. Some excited scientists, before leaving their homes, only told their families that they would be out of station for a few days without disclosing where they were going. Having been personally invited by the head of state, everyone felt elated.

Even though the purpose had not been officially declared, there was a sense among the scientists that Bhutto wanted to salvage the country in the wake of the loss of East Pakistan. He wanted to seek the support of the scientific community and raise the morale of the people, they conjectured.

In January 1972, at a secret meeting, Pakistan’s top scientists were tasked by President Zulfikar Ali Bhutto with one objective: build an atomic bomb, no matter the cost. At the heart of this endeavour was Bhutto’s handpicked nuclear expert, Munir Ahmad Khan. For two decades, Munir Ahmed Khan worked behind a thick veil of secrecy, building key nuclear structures in a race against time, sanctions and even smear campaigns. In Beyond the Bomb: Munir Ahmad Khan and Pakistan’s Nuclear Odyssey, Farhatullah Babar details the story of the unsung architect of Pakistan's atomic programme. Eos presents, with permission, excerpts from the book recently published by Lightstone Publishers…

In private conversations, they recalled that Bhutto outlined his views on foreign and security policies in his 1969 book The Myth of Independence. As a minister in [Gen] Ayub [Khan]’s cabinet, he had failed in his mission to make Pakistan nuclear. But now he was the president himself, and a great opportunity was knocking at his door.

Pakistan had not only suffered defeat at the hands of the Indian army, but it had also lost half of the country and more than half of the population. China also had not applied pressure on India’s border, and Pakistan had suffered a permanent strategic loss by the cessation of East Pakistan.

The Multan Conference was aimed at inspiring the scientists and engineers to commit themselves to delivering. The Chief Scientific Adviser to the president, Dr Abdus Salam (later Nobel Laureate), was also on board the special flight from Islamabad. A younger colleague later recalled Dr Salam saying, “I think they are going to make us bite the dust.”

Excitement grew as they neared Multan. An army bus was waiting to collect the cream of scientists as they disembarked in Multan. Shamiaanas covered the spacious lawns of Nawab Sadiq Qureshi’s — a PPP [Pakistan Peoples Party] leader and Governor of Punjab — residence in Multan, to host the first-ever face-to-face meeting between scientists and the country’s president.

The conference brought together science luminaries from all over the country, including the chairman of the PAEC, the versatile and outspoken Dr I.H. Usmani. Professor Abdus Salam had also flown in from abroad. The attendees also included Munir Ahmad Khan, a nuclear engineer with international credentials. He had flown in from Vienna, where he was in charge of the nuclear power and reactor division of the International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA).

It was a historic moment in Pakistan’s journey toward nuclear development. Scientists and engineers took turns addressing pressing issues in science and technology, with particular focus on how quickly Pakistan could achieve atomic capability. Criticism voiced at the conference ranged from lamenting the misallocation of funds for building physical infrastructure to issues with trained manpower and a lack of planning and motivation. Some voiced concerns about bureaucratic red tape, while others passionately demanded respect and recognition.

After several scientists had spoken, Bhutto rose to speak. The chatter in the pandal stopped. There was a pin-drop silence as eager eyes turned towards him.

Bhutto began his address by recalling with anguish the surrender and national humiliation in December 1971 and vowed to restore the lost national honour. He then told the audience that he had invited them to seek their help. He addressed them directly, face-to-face, and excited them. Only a month earlier, Pakistan had witnessed its darkest hour: the secession of East Pakistan, now Bangladesh, following a humiliating defeat in the Indo-Pakistani war. The nation’s wounds were fresh, its pride shattered. Amidst the ruin, Bhutto’s speech kindled in the gathering the spark of resolve that would forever alter the trajectory of Pakistan’s history.

Bhutto’s words resonated with the scientists. In Multan, he was not merely outlining a policy; he was igniting a movement. Masterfully blending pragmatism with patriotism, he quoted from history. He spoke about the transformative power of nuclear technology, instilling enthusiasm in the audience. He cited India’s steady march toward atomic capability as both a challenge and a provocation. Pakistan’s survival in the regional power matrix required a matching response.

Dr Mujaddid Ahmed Ijaz (extreme left), Munir Ahmad Khan (centre) and Dr Abdus Salam (extreme right) at the International Nathiagali Summer College on Physics and Contemporary Needs (INSC) in 1976 | Ijaz Family Archives



When the crowd of scientists was sufficiently charged, Bhutto directly asked how they could help meet the threat to the nation’s security. India possessed not only superiority in conventional weapons, it was also building nuclear weapons.

“Can you meet India’s nuclear challenge?” He asked them, promising “all the resources you may need.” He had challenged the scientific community at a time of the lowest national morale, and the scientists were ecstatic.

Curiosity was replaced by enthusiasm. The enthusiastic ones believed they could do it even if some of their colleagues disagreed. The atmosphere was electric, tinged with the weight of what lay ahead.

As the discussions unfolded, the pandal crackled with ideas, projections, and debates about feasibility, resources and time frames. The scientists understood that achieving nuclear capability was no small feat — it was a herculean task and a willingness to defy all odds — but they were ready. There were a few who were sceptics, also mindful of the technical roadblocks, but a shared sense of purpose united all.

MORE THAN A CONFERENCE

Scientists fell over one another to convince the president they could deliver on the promise. The president was amused as he watched them engage in a shouting match. “Yes, yes, sure, we can deliver,” the scientists shouted back in unison, almost like children on a playground, a scientist later recalled.

When a scientist claimed that Pakistan had already reached a “take-off stage” in the nuclear field, Bhutto said, “There is no such thing as the take-off stage. Either we take off or we are left behind.”

President Bhutto deplored that we had been left behind in almost every aspect of national life, especially in science, technology and education.

How long will you take to deliver, he asked them. The scientists did not expect such a pointed question from the head of state. Already charged with enthusiasm, the meeting turned into near pandemonium. Scientists made claims and counterclaims about how soon it would be done.

Some said it would take five years; others thought it would take longer. The overenthusiastic claimed to do it in less than a year, while the realistic ones said at least five years were needed. Everyone was eager to catch Bhutto’s attention.

When a young engineer jumped and almost shouted, “Five years, Your Excellency, five years!” Bhutto asked him to sit down.

On the dais, the chairman of PAEC, Dr I.H. Usmani and Dr Salam looked at each other. As a young scientist claimed that they could make the bomb in three years, Usmani nudged Professor Salam, sitting next to him, with his elbow.

Usmani, the pioneer of nuclear energy in the country, believed that Pakistan was a long way away from acquiring nuclear capability. “We will never be able to make it, we do not have the infrastructure,” he whispered in his ear, Salam later recalled to me.

When Salam asked him whether he disapproved of the quest to go nuclear, Usmani told him, “How can I refuse the president anything? I am only trying to be realistic.”

Usmani then said, “Listen, morally I can disagree with a nuclear weapon, but I will not. I know what Bhutto wants and I want to help him.”

Usmani then rose on his seat.

“With all respect, Mr President,” he said, “but I think that we should look into the eye of truth.”

At present, Pakistan does not possess a thing that justifies the optimism in this pandal, he said. “We do not have any metallurgists or a steel industry.” Usmani had the courage to speak his mind in front of the president and a charged crowd of enthusiastic scientists.

Perhaps Dr Usmani was not wrong. As head of the organisation for a decade, he knew better. There was no infrastructure in place needed to go nuclear. It took more than a decade after the Multan Conference for Pakistan to conduct its first cold nuclear tests, in March 1983, and complete its nuclear fuel cycle projects.

(Left to right) Professor Ishfaq Ahmad, Ghulam Ishaq Khan, Gen K.M. Arif and Munir Ahmad Khan at the cold test site | Beyond the Bomb


A young engineer was keen to speak but was ignored each time he raised his hand to ask for the floor. Just as the next speaker was about to take the floor, Bhutto, pointing towards the young engineer, said, “No, no, that man over there.”

“Mr President, all I want to say is that we have a research institute in PINSTECH [Pakistan Institute of Nuclear Science and Technology] at Nilore. Local people call the nearby bus stop ‘Nilore Bum Factory.’ They believe that the atom bomb is the saviour. They also hope that the bomb will be produced in this building. But what are we doing here? We can make it if tasked,” he said.

Bhutto listened intently.

The young man was Sultan Bashiruddin Mahmood, later the first project director of the uranium enrichment project at Kahuta and much more.

As the scientists differed over how soon the bomb could be made, Bhutto raised his hand and stretched out three fingers. Everyone was silent. He wanted the bomb made in three years. All eyes had turned to him.

“Can I have this from you in three years?” he then asked. “Yes, yes,” the scientists responded in chorus, vowing not to disappoint him.

The Multan conclave of scientists marked the starting point of Pakistan’s strategic nuclear programme. The dye was cast that day.

The Multan Conference marked the genesis of a long and arduous journey. Pakistan’s pursuit of nuclear capability was as much a battle against external pressures as it was a test of internal resolve. In the years that followed, the country faced a barrage of international sanctions, diplomatic isolation, and economic challenges. Yet, the vision set in motion that January day in Multan endured.

The Multan Conference remains a pivotal chapter in Pakistan’s history, its significance extending beyond the realm of nuclear technology. It set Pakistan on a path that continues to shape its identity and policies.

More than a chatter of enthusiastic scientists, it was a solemn promise to deliver. More than a conference, it was a defining moment.

BHUTTO SELECTS MUNIR AHMAD KHAN

Amidst fervent exchanges at the Multan Conference, President Zulfikar Ali Bhutto once again raised his hand to signal that he had an announcement to make. The chatter in the pandal fell silent, all eyes fixed on him.

Turning towards Munir Ahmad Khan, seated on the podium, Bhutto declared, “From today, Munir Ahmad Khan will be the new chairman of the Pakistan Atomic Energy Commission.” Munir Ahmad Khan was thus entrusted with the responsibility of advancing the nuclear programme, aligning it with Bhutto’s bold vision.

Bhutto’s faith in Munir Ahmad Khan seems to have been rooted in their past association, which began when Munir Ahmad Khan worked at the IAEA in Vienna. He had established himself as a distinguished nuclear engineer and shared a common vision with Bhutto about the role of nuclear technology for the country’s development and survival.

In December 1965, Bhutto, then Pakistan’s foreign minister, accompanied President Ayub Khan during an official visit to London. Bhutto orchestrated a meeting of Munir Ahmad Khan with President Ayub, aiming to persuade the latter to invest in nuclear reprocessing technology. Despite Munir Ahmad Khan’s compelling arguments, Ayub remained unconvinced, placing reliance on China’s “nuclear umbrella” in case Pakistan needed it. After the meeting, a disappointed Munir Ahmad Khan was reassured by Bhutto: “Do not worry—our turn will come.”

That turn came in 1972. Bhutto, now the president of Pakistan, positioned Munir Ahmad Khan as chairman of PAEC, signalling a new chapter in the pursuit of his ambition of making Pakistan a nuclear power.

Following Munir Ahmad Khan’s appointment, Dr I.H. Usmani, who had served PAEC with great distinction for over a decade, resigned from his position. While Dr Usmani laid the groundwork for scientific development, Munir Ahmad Khan was tasked with a transformative mission: to translate Bhutto’s vision of a nuclear Pakistan into reality.

In his address, Bhutto noted what he called a “process of erosion” which he said had set in the country as a result of the events of December 1971. He wanted it addressed urgently. In the realm of science and technology, he wanted to launch a “crash programme” to nurture indigenous talent. He wanted to create a pool of at least a hundred scientists, bringing home expatriate Pakistani talent, and instituting prestigious awards for the talented. He wanted to ensure that Pakistan’s nuclear ambitions were powered by its own people.

THE UNSUNG HERO

Munir Ahmad Khan’s emphasis on secrecy and a low profile was one of the reasons for his remaining unsung. But this was not the only reason. He remained unsung also because his criticism of the tendency to seek personal projection at the expense of the nuclear programme displeased a powerful lobby that cherished personal publicity.

He was uncomfortable when some contemporaries liked to advertise their achievements and flaunted nuclear capabilities, terming it irresponsible. He said that scientists, bureaucrats and generals in other countries do not publicly make tall claims about their capabilities. No scientist in India, Israel or any other country had publicly made such claims.

A former army chief publicly made some claims in the mid-nineties that appeared to him unwise. With carefully chosen words, he strongly criticised him in a newspaper article. He said that what the ex-army chief had said amounted to Pakistan making a fool of the US president for continuing to certify, on the advice of the US Embassy in Islamabad for three years from 1987 to 1990, that Pakistan did not have nuclear capability or a device. He predicted that such irresponsible rhetoric would cost Pakistan dearly.

Naturally, those in high places seeking personal publicity did not like it and turned against him.

When, in May 1988, Pakistan demonstrated nuclear capability, individual scientists in another organisation scrambled to claim credit for bomb-making, cherishing the spotlight. In doing so, some scientists excelled over others. The PAEC scientists were trained in his [Munir Ahmed Khan’s] nursery with a rigid code of restraint for two decades. They remained tight-lipped even at that time of national celebrations.

While there was no one to speak for him, his detractors had a field day. When he retired, he launched a vigorous campaign advocating to curb nuclear rhetoric. He and his associates in the PAEC paid a heavy price for this restraint. He endured all this with grace.

Despite his remarkable achievements in bringing Pakistan to the world nuclear map, he was not lauded. His achievements were not recognised during his lifetime. For 20 years, the cold nuclear tests that were carried out under his watch had remained a guarded secret.

He denied himself and the team limelight through self-projection, adhering to the strict secrecy codes. He did not advertise his achievements to safeguard the safety and security of the nuclear programme. He believed that advertising personal achievements would damage the programme by attracting adverse international response.

In his memoirs, Professor Riazuddin, the quiet theoretician behind the bomb, has said: “All the strategic nuclear infrastructure was completed during the tenure of Munir Ahmad Khan as chairman of the PAEC. Thus, all the key elements, except uranium enrichment, were already in place, including conducting cold tests and building tunnels in the Chagai mountain for carrying out underground nuclear tests when needed. In spite of all this, he didn’t get the credit he deserved and remains an ‘unsung hero.’”

He had raised the bar of secrecy so high that it deprived his team of due recognition. When in office, he never mentioned in public the word “cold nuclear tests”, let alone reveal that it had indeed been successfully carried out way back in the early 1980s.

His detractors ensured that Munir was not honoured in his lifetime. While others were decorated with the highest civil award twice, Munir Ahmad Khan was denied it. [Asif] Zardari had long been aware of Munir Ahmad Khan’s work, since his wife, Benazir Bhutto, was prime minister. During his first term as president, he posthumously awarded the unsung hero in 2012 with the highest civil award, the Nishan-i-Pakistan. His family received the award.

In a world often seduced by the allure of spectacle, the power of restraint is the most profound virtue, but it does not come without a cost. Munir Ahmad Khan’s life and the price he paid demonstrated this truth. He exemplified it throughout his career in his disdain for self-promotion and his advocacy for nuclear discretion. His steadfast belief that nuclear capabilities must never be flaunted distinguished him as a leader of extraordinary foresight. He was willing to pay a price for it.

His ethical philosophy was that nuclear capability is not a status symbol but a grave responsibility. It needed strategic silence and avoiding rhetoric that could provoke adversaries or attract unnecessary global attention. He clearly understood that self-promotion in this sensitive domain was counterproductive and dangerous. The success of Pakistan’s nuclear programme lay in the collective effort of a well-knit team in complete secrecy, not in individual accolades.

He never sought cheap popularity, denied himself newspaper headlines, and declined to advertise the Commission’s achievements. He kept a low profile and disliked anyone making provocative, inflammatory statements to grab headlines.

The brandishing of nuclear capability was anathema to him. He believed that bravado, brandishing nuclear capability or advertising achievements did not serve the national interest. A natural consequence of this worldview was that he and his team were not acknowledged for their work.

His commitment to restraint placed him at odds with those in positions of power. But he was not deterred and continued to be vocal in condemning nuclear rhetoric. Later, when talking about the former army chief’s public statement, he said, “Farhatullah, it was more than a lapse in judgment; it was a breach of trust.”

He viewed such declarations as reckless and an invitation to international sanctions. He foresaw adverse diplomatic fallout and the damage it could inflict. His frustration stemmed not only from the immediate consequences but also from the long-term implications of eroding the trust of global powers.

Unfortunately, he did not live long enough to see the day when his warnings against the dangers of irresponsible nuclear behaviour proved true.

The world was shocked when, in 2006, Gen Pervez Musharraf disclosed in his memoirs, In the Line of Fire, how a clandestine proliferation network had been in existence in Pakistan for a long time, and blamed one lone individual for it. The network had actually been busted by the CIA in 2003, and Musharraf was forced to acknowledge it in his 2006 memoirs. Ignoring Munir’s warnings cost the nation dearly.

The legacy of restraint was both his formidable strength and a great burden. While it was meant to shield Pakistan’s nuclear programme from external threats, it also allowed his detractors to dominate the narrative. His posthumous recognition, with the highest civil award, was a bittersweet moment for his family and colleagues. It was a long-overdue acknowledgement of his role in placing Pakistan on the global nuclear map while also underscoring the quiet pain of a life spent in service without recognition.

His life is a powerful reminder of humility and restraint in leadership. When egos clash and ambitions run high, quiet dedication to the collective good is his enduring legacy. Prioritising responsibility over recognition and wisdom over bravado while remaining personally self-effacing shall resonate as his legacy.

Excerpted with permission from Beyond the Bomb: Munir Ahmad Khan and Pakistan’s Nuclear Odyssey by Farhatullah Babar, published by Lightstone Publishers

The writer is a former senator and served as the director of information at the Pakistan Atomic Energy Commission (PAEC) under Chairman Munir Ahmad Khan

Published in Dawn, EOS, January 11th, 2026

‘Good night and good luck’

Political and media landscapes are witnessing their own version of McCarthyism.

Muhammad Amir Rana 

Published January 11, 2026 

DAWN

The writer is a security analyst.


MCCARTHYISM is a ghost that survives within political and institutional systems. It thrives on witch-hunts, rejects scrutiny, and shields itself with distorted logic, manufactured fears, and convenient lies. It brands itself as the custodian of ‘true patriotism’, while relegating all dissenters to the category of the less loyal. Today, this spectre is once again dominating parts of the world, including the US and Pakistan.

George Clooney’s Good Night, and Good Luck captures this phenomenon by revisiting the confrontation between journalist Edward R. Murrow and Senator Joseph McCarthy during the 1950s. The term ‘McCarthyism’ itself emerged from the senator’s methods, which included wild accusations hurled without proof, careers destroyed on suspicion, and a climate of fear promoted to silence critical voices.

Yet the film does not unfold McCarthy’s character as much as it peels back the layers of the newsroom. It shows how editorial boundaries, commercial pressures, and fear of losing business gradually suffocate journalistic courage. It reminds us that compromises do not arrive abruptly but creep in quietly. But it also shows that there is always a way out, a path that begins with vigilance, integrity and the refusal to accept intimidation.

Though set in the 1950s, Good Night, and Good Luck resonates with today’s local scenario in which political and media landscapes are witnessing their own version of McCarthyism where narratives are policed, loyalties questioned and fear weaponised. The film invites us to reflect not only on history, but on our own moment.

Political and media landscapes are witnessing their own version of McCarthyism.

An op-ed piece cannot do a full film review, and there is no plan to act as spoiler for those who have the film on their watch list. However, Cole Porter’s famous 1940s’ song, I’ve Got My Eyes On You, which also has the line ‘I’m checking all you do from A to Z’ has been masterfully used in the film and one can easily understand the context.

These are difficult times for journalism, especially the kind that once stood firmly against McCarthyism. The challenge intensifies when the media landscape drifts towards sensationalism and embraces the notion, as referenced in the film, that ‘yellow is better than red’. Those who attempt to expose strong-arm tactics today face familiar reprisals: loss of advertisements, government pressure, accusations of being unpatriotic, and even direct threats.

Yet vigilance makes all the difference. Logic, objectivity and professional reporting covering all essential angles of a story remain possible, though not without hardship. Whether in Gaza during Israel’s genocidal campaign against Palestinians, the recent events in Venezuela or the tragic incident in Minneapolis that law enforcement and President Donald Trump attempted to cover up, segments of the media have continued to perform their professional responsibilities despite immense pressure.

The world over, those subscribing to the tenets of McCarthyism, in every age, remain obsessed with the idea that hidden forces or subversive actors are out to destroy a nation. They believe only a coercive approach can confront such imagined threats. Witch-hunts become their tool; ‘witchcraft’ their political art. For those unfamiliar with the origins of this mentality, Europe’s experience between the 15th and 17th centuries is instructive. That era saw widespread accusations of witchcraft amid political instability, famine, disease, economic crises, and religious conflict. The clergy scapegoated ‘witches’ — mostly poor women — and Heinrich Kramer, a priest, authored the Hammer of Witches, a manual that claimed that the devil targeted women, especially those who defied husbands and social norms. Kramer weaponised fear with pseudo-logic, legitimising the witch trials that haunted Europe for nearly two centuries.

The ‘McCarthyism’ of any age depends on the same logic of ‘witchcraft’ and witch trials. If journalists or media groups anywhere come under pressure, the reason is often simple: they are challenging the McCarthyism of their time.

Pakistan has a long history of confronting a similar state-led approach — from sanctions and censorship under the Press and Publications Ordinance of 1960, which empowered the state to shut down newspapers and arrest journalists, to the pre-publication censorship imposed during the Bhutto and Zia regimes, and later the clampdowns, bans, and channel closures witnessed under Nawaz Sharif and Gen Pervez Musharraf. Since then, restrictions have only become more layered, whether under the PTI government or the PDM-led administrations.

Although a large proportion of media groups and even well-known journalists have compromised at various stages, a small but resilient community of journalists, along with a few strong-nerved media owners, has continued to challenge these pressures. Zameer Niazi documented much of this struggle, but in recent years, two important accounts have emerged from senior journalist Hussain Naqi. The first is his memoir, Mujh Se Jo Ho Saka, and the second is a compilation of an extended interview conducted by Dr Syed Jaffar Ahmed, published under the title Jurat-i-Inkaar. Both works capture not only Naqi’s personal journey but also the collective struggle that defines Pakistan’s political, social and journalistic history over the last seven decades.

This is, in many ways, a Pakistani version of Good Night and Good Luck, a narrative that deserves equal praise and could well be adapted into a screenplay. Hussain Naqi’s story makes one truth abundantly clear: subscribers to the McCarthy approach in successive Pakistani regimes have believed that the media is responsible for creating political instability and chaos. They succeeded in silencing the press for years, sometimes for entire decades, yet the country never escaped chronic instability.

Instead of reassessing their approach, they continue to rely on the same tactic of suppressing dissent, a strategy that has never produced the desired outcomes, nor is likely to in the future. The title of the film is borrowed from the famous line in Romeo and Juliet, ‘Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow”. But the film also subtly invokes another Shakespearean truth: “The fault … is not in our stars, but in ourselves.”


Published in Dawn, January 11th, 2026



Muhammad Amir Rana is a security analyst. He is the Director of Pak Institute for Peace Studies (PIPS), Islamabad, Pakistan.

Bangladesh's first female prime minister Khaleda Zia dies aged 80

Bangladesh’s former prime minister and opposition leader Khaleda Zia has died at the age of 80, her party said Tuesday, just months before elections many expected would return her to power. Her death ends a turbulent political career marked by imprisonment, ill health and a dramatic comeback attempt following the fall of her longtime rival Sheikh Hasina.


Issued on: 30/12/2025 
By: FRANCE 24

Khaleda Zia speaks during a press conference in Dhaka in March 2015. © Munir Uz Zaman, AFP

Bangladesh's former prime minister Khaleda Zia, who many believed would sweep elections next year to lead her country once again, died on Tuesday aged 80, her Bangladesh Nationalist Party said.

"The BNP Chairperson and former prime minister, the national leader Begum Khaleda Zia, passed away today at 6:00 am (0000 GMT), just after the Fajr (dawn) prayer," the party said in a statement.

"We pray for the forgiveness of her soul and request everyone to offer prayers for her departed soul," it added.

Despite years of ill health and imprisonment, Zia vowed in November to campaign in elections set for February 2026 -- the first vote since a mass uprising toppled her arch-rival Sheikh Hasina last year.

The BNP is widely seen as a frontrunner.

But in late November she was rushed to hospital, where, despite the best efforts of medics, her condition declined from a raft of health issues.

Nevertheless, hours before her death, party workers had on Monday submitted nomination papers on her behalf for three constituencies for the polls.

During her final days, interim leader Muhammad Yunus called for the nation to pray for Zia, calling her a "source of utmost inspiration for the nation".

BNP's media chief Moudud Alamgir Pavel also confirmed Zia's death to AFP.

Zia was jailed for corruption in 2018 under Hasina's government, which also blocked her from travelling abroad for medical treatment.

She was released last year, shortly after Hasina was forced from power.

There had been plans earlier this month to fly her on a special air ambulance to London, but her condition was not stable enough.

Her son, political heavyweight Tarique Rahman, only returned to Bangladesh after 17 years in self-imposed exile on Thursday, where he was welcomed back by huge crowds of joyous supporters.

READ MORE'Symbol of hope': Exiled Bangladesh opposition leader and PM hopeful Rahman returns ahead of polls

Rahman will lead the party through the February 12 general election, and is expected to be put forward as prime minister if his party wins a majority.

Bangladesh's Prothom Alo newspaper, who said that Zia had "earned the epithet of the 'uncompromising leader'", reported that Rahman and other family members were by her side at the time of her death.

"The lives of politicians are marked by rises and falls," the newspaper wrote on Tuesday.

"Lawsuits, arrests, imprisonment, persecution, and attacks by adversaries are far from uncommon. Khaleda Zia endured such ordeals at their most extreme."

(FRANCE 24 with AFP)

The rise and fall of Bangladesh's first woman PM Khaleda Zia

Arafatul Islam

DW

30/12/2025

Bangladesh's first female prime minister, Khaleda Zia, who was once praised for restoring democracy and empowering millions of women, has died at the age of 80.

Khaleda Zia first came to power in 1991 (File photo: 2018)Image: Munir Uz Zaman/AFP/Getty Images

Khaleda Zia, who served as prime minister of Bangladesh for three terms, died on Tuesday morning at the age of 80.

Zia and her Bangladesh Nationalist Party (BNP) were once hailed for playing a crucial role in transitioning the South Asian nation from military rule to democracy.

She served as prime minister of Bangladesh between 1991 and 1996, and between 2001 and 2006. She was the first woman to serve as prime minister of Bangladesh.

Zia had been sentenced to several years behind bars prior her death for alleged involvement in corruption charges that her party said were politically motivated.
Rise to politics

Zia entered politics after her husband, former president Ziaur Rahman, was assassinated in May 1981 during a military coup. Rahman had fought for Bangladesh's independence war from Pakistan in 1971, and formed the BNP party a few years prior his assassination.

Zia, who was a housewife at the time with no experience in politics, soon became one of the country's top leaders for her civilian political resistance against the then military regime.

Zia established a solid political alliance by including political parties from both the left and the right with her center-right party. She successfully forced the military regime to give up power by leading nationwide movements for democracy.

On February 27,1991, Zia's party won 140 of the 300 directly-elected seats during the national election and became the country's first female prime minister.
Empowering women

Zia helped increase literacy rates among girls and boosted job opportunities for women by providing free education and scholarships. She introduced daily free meals for students at schools across the country with help from foreign donors. During her tenures, those efforts have seen millions of girls enrolled in primary and secondary schools.

Zia also contributed to expanding the country's export-oriented garment industry.

"Now as Prime Minister, Mrs. Zia, in contrast with Benazir Bhutto when she first became Prime Minister of Pakistan, is aggressively promoting education and vocational training, especially of girls, and expanding small-scale, no-collateral lending to increase the self-sufficiency of women," journalist Barbara Crossette wrote in the New York Times in November 1993.

US Forbes magazine, which included Zia as one of the 100 world's most powerful women for several years during her leadership between 2001 and 2006, wrote, "Once a shy and withdrawn housewife, Zia has revitalized the education sector, particularly for young girls."

Laila Noor Islam, a professor at Dhaka University, told DW Zia will be remembered for changing the social and political landscape of Bangladesh.

"People will remember her for introducing the parliamentary system of democracy in her country, for creating export-oriented readymade garment factories where hundreds of thousands of women got jobs, for introducing free primary education for all, and developing the caretaker government system for conducting free and fair national elections," she said.

Archrival Sheikh Hasina

Soon upon entering politics, Zia became the archrival of Sheikh Hasina, the top leader of the center-left Awami League (AL) party and in power since 2008.

They are often called "the Battling Begums" – "begum" refers to a Muslim woman of high rank – for their longs-standing rivalry, which split the country's political arena into two, one led by Hasina's AL, the other by Zia's BNP.

"When I hear the name Khaleda Zia, what comes to mind is "Hasina's rival." Zia and Hasina have had such a long and bitter rivalry, and it's been amplified by the fact that they've dominated Bangladeshi politics for so long," Michael Kugelman, a South Asia expert at the Washington-based Woodrow Wilson Center for Scholars, told DW.

"And given that their respective families comprise the country's two political dynasties, the rivalry also is embedded in the core political history of Bangladesh," he added.

Corruption allegations

Zia was convicted in a graft case in February 2018 and later in a separate corruption case. The politician was accused of misusing her power by embezzling some $250,000 (€240,000) in donations meant for an orphanage trust.

The BNP maintains the cases were fabricated to keep Zia out of politics, allegations denied by Hasina's government.

Over the past decade, more than 180,000 legal cases have also been filed against nearly four million BNP members, according to the party's count. The data shows that more than 600 party members have been abducted, and around 3,000 were victims of extrajudicial killings at the hands of authorities during the same period.

In 2020, her prison sentence was converted to house arrest before she was released again in 2024 after the fall of her rival Sheikh Hasina's government.

Political downfall

Zia, an advocate of democracy, slowly lost her ground by failing to form solid political resistance against the Hasina government.

"Khaleda Zia has made a lot of mistakes in the last decade. Boycotting elections led to missed opportunities. More importantly, she opted to play the role of a disruptive and confrontational opposition without seeking a middle ground, and this led to a lot of burned bridges," Kugelman said.

"It also led to her party resorting to violence at times, which didn't help its cause. Additionally, her decision to align herself with Islamist political parties [at times], especially those with hardline elements cost her and her party support from those that uphold the idea of a secular and moderate Bangladesh," he added.

Asif Nazrul, a professor at Dhaka University, believes Zia's downfall should also be attributed to her unwillingness to gain the confidence of India and foreign diplomats who could have pushed Hasina to conduct a fair and inclusive national election.

"Zia's decision not to meet Indian President Pranab Mukherjee in Dhaka in 2013, and refusing the offer of Sheikh Hasina regarding election-time government in the same year, have heavily cost her political career," Nazrul told DW.

"She has failed to win the heart of Dhaka-based elite intellectuals and western diplomats," he added. "Her failure to stop the people in BNP and its allies in harboring separatists fighting the Indian government in the past also made her weaker over time."

But Zia's fight for democracy will be remembered for years to come, said Nazrul.

"Zia could have flown to other countries during political uncertainties in 2006 and 2007, and during her trial in the last years,” Nazrul said. "She was aged and very ill, and despite knowing the likelihood of her suffering, she did not bow to the Hasina government and took any chance of leaving the country."

Arafatul Islam Multimedia journalist focusing on Bangladeshi politics, human rights and migration.