Revolution today

Aasim Sajjad Akhtar

Published January 2, 2026 

DAWN

IT is New Year’s Day, 2050. Pakistan’s 400 million people make it the world’s third most populous country. A four-decade-long youth bulge is as intense as ever, with half of the labour force between the ages of 15 and 29. Daily life is a rat race, punctuated by climate breakdown events and insurgencies. The state plays Leviathan under the guise of order.

As thought experiments go, projecting 24 years into the future on the basis of where we find ourselves today is no grand act of imagination. Only government propagandists and some mainstream commentators still argue that ‘Pakistan is turning a corner’. Most serious analyses acknowledge that the pace of economic, political, and social decay is hastening. Why engage in such gloomy scenarios? They compel us, I think, to imagine trajectories which are not only hopeful, but even revolutionary.

The idea of revolution has taken a beating since the end of the Cold War. US imperialism has backed a host of ‘coloured revolutions’ to roll back the legacies of the historic socialist revolutions and national liberation struggles of what Eric Hobsbawm called the short 20th century.

Here in Pakistan, where the left has been criminalised from the get-go, the meaning of revolution has been hollowed out further since the turn of the century by dictators like Musharraf and parachuted charlatans like Tahirul Qadri. Yet, a large number of digitally savvy youth consciously desire political transformation. The term ‘Gen Z revolt’ has gained great currency recently, following events in Bangladesh, Nepal, Madagascar, and Sri Lanka, where young people have exercised collective agency to overthrow incumbent regimes.

There is something heady about the fact that an otherwise amorphous, digitally connected cross-section of young people can crystallise into such a powerful force. But experience confirms that popular mobilisations can easily be co-opted, corrupted, or thwarted by the absence of a shared vision for substantive transformation.


The idea of revolution has taken a beating.

The recently scripted ‘Gen Z revolt’ in Mexico that reads like a Washington-backed ‘coloured revolution’ is only the most prominent example. Closer to home, Bangladesh’s ‘revolution’ has increasingly turned sour, perhaps unsurprisingly given the dubious politics of figureheads like Muhammad Younus.

How, then, do we make sense of this contradictory political landscape? Young political subjects are certainly willing and able to name structures of power, and even challenge them. But without romanticising the socialist revolutions and decolonisation movements of the past, what we miss today are organised mass parties with a clear ideological agenda. It is one thing to coalesce around the wrongs of the system on digital networks, but quite another to organise at the grassroots to put in place an alternative socioeconomic and political system.

We may not see another era of mass parties, featuring trade unions and popular peasant organisations. Successful political entities that claim mass membership today largely rely on effective digital mobilisation strategies without necessarily sustaining parallel grassroots organisation. The PTI is the most obvious example. Indeed, it embodies many of the fundamental contradictions of the prototypical online Gen Z subject. Despite all that has happened since April 2022, is the ‘youth’ that catapulted the PTI to prominence 15 years ago now decisively opposed to Pakistan’s militarised and imperialised structure of power? Or is it still liable to co-option in intra-elite factional struggles?

Whatever the PTI’s future, there are still enough reasons to believe that Pakistan’s young working masses can come together to avert the dystopic scenario outlined at the outset. The crucial ideological pillars of a collective political project would read like this: 1) a developmental trajectory beyond capitalism featuring mass redistribution, job-creating industrialisation, and ecological regeneration; 2) an end to the brutalisation of ethnic peripheries and the crafting of a new, multinational identity; 3) ending the hegemony of the national security apparatus, decolonisation of Pakistani statecraft, and enshrining people’s needs as the object of state policy; 4) a commitment to redressing patriarchal violence — structural and physical — at all levels of state and society; 5) articulation of anti-imperialism and principles of non-alignment in foreign ties by discontinuing the state’s historical policies of auctioning the country’s geostrategic location, its natural resources, and labour for imperialist rents.

We are far from realising such an ideological agenda at present. But no matter how intellectually pessimistic we must be in the face of dark realities, we can retain a modicum of hope that such revolutionary horizons can still exist.

Published in Dawn, January 2nd, 2026


The writer teaches at Quaid-i-Azam University, Islamabad.

Islamabad the ugly

Aasim Sajjad Akhtar 

Published December 19, 2025

DAWN

IT is a truism that Pakistan is an extremely class-divided society. From the proverbial village to the metropolitan city, the brutal reality of an anti-poor system stares us in the face, assuming we choose to open our eyes and look.

In late November, the Capital Develop­ment Authority (CDA) initiated a mass eviction in a sprawling katchi abadi sandwiched between the Bari Imam shrine and the President’s House. The abadi, known as Muslim Colony, has existed for at least five decades, and by conservative estimates was home to 20,000 working people, making it arguably the largest informal settlement in Islamabad.

Muslim Colony’s first-generation residents literally built Islamabad with their own hands, including the grand buildings on Constitution Avenue that overlooked their shanties. Over the years, a significant number of Muslim Colony residents became the drivers, gardeners, cooks and cleaners that sustain the ruling classes’ offices and homes.

As construction workers and service providers, katchi abadi dwellers are never ‘security risks’ — in fact it is their labour which explains the palatial lifestyles of Islamabad and Rawalpindi elites. But when push came to shove, the CDA and what seemed like most of Islamabad’s police force forcibly dispossessed Muslim Colony residents of their homes. Anyone who dared peacefully resist faced violent arrest and harassment.

And the courts? The evictees were principally protected by at least two stay orders, one issued by the Supreme Court in 2015 after another mass eviction of a katchi abadi in sector I-11 of the capital, and another more recent one issued by the Islamabad High Court after Muslim Colony residents approached it.

The eviction crews, led by highly educated CDA officers, treated the court orders as mere pieces of paper worth less than the cost of their printing. Perhaps we should not be surprised at the contempt of the bureaucratic apparatuses of the state for even the little relief provided by the superior courts to the working poor in this country — after all, ex-military dictator Gen Pervez Musharraf once boasted that the Constitution is merely a piece of paper that can be ripped up and tossed into the proverbial dustbin.


Katchi abadi dwellers are never ‘security risks’.

Katchi abadis and their violent dispossession expose one of the most long-standing myths in Pakistan. They say ‘Islamabad the beautiful’ is the most liveable city in Pakistan, a planned metropolis of world-class standard. To begin with, the CDA and successive militarised hybrid regimes that back it have turned Islamabad into a concrete jungle, allowing all sorts of commercial activities in the Margalla hills while fronting relentless construction of big thoroughfares and plazas to serve the suburban rich. All this has made the city even less liveable for the mass of its working people alongside students who in-migrate to acquire an education.

Renting a home, let alone buying one, is virtually impossible for a working-class household in Islamabad. The city’s real estate was already more expensive than Lahore, Karachi, Peshawar or Quetta even before post-2000 heralded a great new land grab by property speculators and real estate developers. Apparently, all of this was and continues to be facilitated by the CDA, which has wilfully made a mockery of the 1960 Master Plan, occasionally making changes in zoning by-laws to provide post-facto cover to all sorts of profit-making abominations.

Meanwhile, katchi abadis have continued to proliferate because the working masses do, after all, need shelter. There are now approximately 50 settlements in Islamabad with a total population of more than 500,000. Another one of the my­­ths that has been peddled by the CDA and others of its ilk — who want the labour of working people but refuse to acknowledge their basic needs — is that katchi abadi dwellers are free riders and land grabbers who are essentially har­ming the public good. This, quite simply, is a lie.

Katchi abadis come into being through fully-functioning informal housing markets in which cash exchanges hands between the users of land (katchi abadi residents), the administrators of land (government functionaries) and informal middlemen. The government functionaries are at the apex of this arrangement because they pocket a ‘monthly rent’ while always retaining the power to arbitrarily pull the plug and bulldoze the settlement.

This is what happened in Muslim Colony as it has happened in many other katchi abadis. And given the complete impunity of those who perpetrate so-called ‘anti-encroachment operations’, they will not stop. But working people will not be swallowed up by the ground either. It is they who make Islamabad what it is. Without them, it is but an ugly reflection of the larger class war waged by this country’s rapacious and shameless elite.

Published in Dawn, December 19th, 2025

The writer teaches at Quaid-i-Azam University, Islamabad.

 PAKISTAN

A State Betrayed

by Syed Salman Mehdi / November 17th, 2025

The 27th Amendment rewrites Pakistan’s rules and hands its courts and army to the powerful few.

According to Santiago Canton, the ICJ Secretary General, the 27th amendment introduces changes that raise serious concern. He warns that these shifts could weaken the courts’ role in checking executive power and compromise the basic rights of people in Pakistan.

Parliament has created a new Federal Constitutional Court and moved many core powers from the Supreme Court to that new body, including original jurisdiction over constitutional disputes and the transfer of all pending constitutional appeals and suo motu cases to the FCC.

Pakistan is already facing deep political strain, and any move that reduces judicial independence will only intensify public mistrust. Legal experts warn that once constitutional checks grow weak, governments tend to stretch their authority further, often at the cost of civil liberties. This amendment also arrives at a time when civic space is shrinking and voices questioning state decisions face growing pressure. If these trends continue, ordinary citizens will lose their last reliable shield against abuse of power, leaving the justice system unable to protect those who need it most.

That change is not a technical tweak. The FCC will be staffed by judges chosen under an altered appointments regime that gives the executive far greater control. High court judges can be shifted between provinces on presidential orders after a JCP recommendation, and a judge who refuses transfer may be deemed retired. These rules strip judges of institutional independence and make transfers a political tool rather than an administrative measure.

Parliament also removed the Supreme Court’s suo motu powers by deleting Articles 184, 186 and 191A. That change closes a potent front of public accountability that ordinary citizens and bar bodies used to reach the top bench quickly. The new arrangement reorders courts so that constitutional review sits behind a court whose judges are more directly tied to the executive.

Article 243 of the Constitution has been rewritten to create a post of Chief of Defence Forces (CDF) to be held by the army chief. The amendment abolishes the Chairman Joint Chiefs (CJCSC) slot and concentrates command over the army, navy and air force under one figure. The move also creates a National Strategic Command for nuclear oversight, but crucially it locks the head of that command to appointments made in consultation with the army chief.

The bill grants five-star officers constitutional protections that are almost absolute. These officers keep rank and privileges for life and enjoy immunity from criminal prosecution that cannot be removed except by a two thirds parliamentary vote. That raises a stark inequality. Elected leaders remain removable by simple majority. The amendment gives permanent legal shelter to the uniformed elite and places civilian politicians at a structural disadvantage.

The personal fallout has been dramatic. Senior jurists reacted within hours. Two Supreme Court judges Justice Mansoor Ali Shah and Justice Athar Minallah tendered resignations in protest, calling the amendment a grave assault on the Constitution and saying they could not sit on a court reduced to a shadow of its former role. A senior member of the Law and Justice Commission and former Attorney General Advocate Makhdoom Ali Khan also resigned. These departures are not routine. They mark a collapse of faith inside institutions meant to protect rights and law.

The manner of passage deepens the injury. The amendment moved through the cabinet and both houses in fast and contested sittings. The Senate vote came amid an opposition boycott and the National Assembly approved the bill by the numbers the ruling coalition mustered. Critics point to a lack of sincere debate, to rushed drafting and to last minute textual changes that favour continuity of political control rather than consensus rebuilding.

A particularly alarming detail in the file is the clause that secures the army chief’s position for an extended period. The record notes that Field Marshal Asim Munir will remain army chief and Chief of Defence Forces until 2030, a change that would make him the longest serving army chief without formal martial law. That is not symbolism. It is constitutional entrenchment of a single person’s dominance.

The political and social reaction has been mixed, but a strong current of alarm runs through lawyers civil society and parts of the public. International commentators and regional observers described the move as a major erosion of civilian control. Grassroots hashtags and street protests capture a sense of betrayal and fear that the formal rules of the republic have been rewritten to favour the khaki order.

Defenders argue the amendment unclogs court backlogs and modernises military coordination. They say a specialised FCC will speed constitutional adjudication and that a single defence chief can improve strategic command. Those arguments matter on paper, but they do not explain or justify the permanent legal shields and the transfer of appointment power from neutral bodies to political ones. The speed and balance of the reforms matter as much as their technical claims.

So where does Pakistan go from here? The amendment alters the field but it does not erase civic memory or legal debate. Courts that survive the political pressure can still interpret the text. Bar associations and civil rights groups can press cases that test the limits of immunity and transfer powers. Political parties and citizens can use every lawful tool to restore balance. The road will be long and fraught, but institutions are not dead unless everyone gives up.

In conclusion the 27th Amendment is a turning point. It rewrites the balance between people courts and the uniform. It makes impunity structural and places lasting authority in hands that answer first to the uniform not the ballot. That is the substance of the grievance judges lawyers and citizens now voice. If Pakistan is to survive as a republic governed by law the response must be calm smart and constitutional, not only loud. The work of repair must begin now.

Syed Salman Mehdi is a freelance writer and researcher with a keen interest in social, political, and human rights issues. He has written extensively on topics related to sectarian violence, governance, and minority rights, with a particular focus on South Asia. His work has been published in various media outlets, and he is passionate about raising awareness on critical human rights concerns. Read other articles by Syed.

State and its pillars

Arifa Noor 

Published November 18, 2025

DAWN


NOW that the 27th Amendment has been passed, some in the legal profession and others are mourning the new subservience of the judiciary, going as far as to say that the third pillar of government has come crashing down.

Of course, what is less mourned, perhaps, is that the second pillar, parliament, is no longer standing upright either. Having been weakened over the years, it no longer functions as an independent branch either. It sits, stands and runs around in circles on cue — from the leadership of the political parties and the known unknowns. There were hints of it during the passage of the 18th Amendment but the slide began in earnest later — from the lightening-fast approval given to Gen Qamar Javed Bajwa’s extension to the present when constitutional amendments are passed within days. The ‘public representatives’ are led by the Pied Piper to the ‘ayes’ gallery when the vote is needed and there is little choice in the matter. And it doesn’t matter if they are sitting on the treasury benches or are in the opposition.

The executive may have had its hand strengthened by the recent legislation, but simply on paper. But its ability to make decisions is now a thing of the past. The only reason it is perhaps not discussed much is that its helplessness is hidden behind closed doors. In private rooms, it is hard to say who is chairing meetings or making the decisions. The capitulation is just not as public as in the case of the legislature even though the results are visible to all.

Indeed, there is little hope that any of the three pillars of the state are intact.


There is little hope that any of the three pillars of the state are intact.

But in the land of the pure, political theories remain just that — theories. Here, the pillars of the state weaken and crumble, straining just to stay upright but in our everyday lingo, the word ‘state’ is used to denote our respect and our acknowledgement of the power and influence of one institution. At times, we use the word also to concede our own vulnerability. But that is another story.

The state hasn’t been left untouched either. The 27th Amendment has brought sweeping reforms to the structure of the armed forces as well. Among other things, the new legislation has discontinued the joint chief position and introduced a new CDF, a position which will be held by the chief of army staff, who now appears to be far more than the ‘first among equals’. At the same time, the tenure of all services chiefs has been increased from three to five years. The head — COAS/CDF — has also been given lifetime immunity, like the president.

It is being said this will help prepare the armed forces for modern warfare and allow for the kind of coordination that was perhaps not possible earlier. Time and again, those who claim to understand how warfare works argue this, but their language explains little to those of us not in the know. These new changes will bring or improve combat readiness, synergy, multi-domain integration — though what this means in practical terms remains unclear to those of us who have never worn a uniform.

It is easier, however, to understand the far simpler concerns or worries that are being put forward.

There are fears that these changes may allow for centralisation of power in a single post/individual that is also above the law. Of course, some can argue that strong men who claimed to speak for or on behalf of the state were always above the law — the trial of Musharraf is a case in point — but now this has been put down on paper. But in a country such as Pakistan where checks on the ruling elite have always remained weak, the precedent being set by offering immunity to any government official is worrying. Others will want to follow suit in the future, as it will encourage decision-making without any fear of accountability.

Second, and perhaps more importantly, questions have been raised about what this will mean for the other two forces and their ability to make decisions or have their views heard if the perception of equality between all three forces is not acknowledged on paper. This, it is feared, will impact not just the morale but also decision-making.

How will it impact decisions about resource allocation, or decisions taken during times of conflict? Will the other services chiefs still be able to make their voice heard, ask some? Here, some insiders have mentioned the 2019 skirmish with India where they claim the then chief of army staff was outvoted when deciding the response to India. This account has been questioned, but as an anecdote it does urge more clarity on how decisions will be made. Will collegial decision-making, which some say has been at work till now, continue once the new structures are in place?

These questions are being asked partly because there is no transparent debate on the changes. If the discussions were open, such questions would not fester.

But beyond the powers, in Pakistan, there is always the worry about how the politics of any changes will play out. A case in point is the frenzied politicking over key non-political appointments as we have seen in the recent past. And one wonders that if powers are further centralised in new positions, whether it will encourage newcomers and aspirants to lobby in new and more aggressive ways for key positions as well as exceptional promotions. The long-term impact of this will not just weaken civilian actors and institutions; this is not one-way traffic.

In a fast-fragmenting state and society where legislation is being used to hollow out institutions such as the judiciary, any new factors that can further add to centralisation of power and increased politicking should worry us all — till some solid answers are provided.

The writer is a journalist.

Published in Dawn, November 18th, 2025

PAKISTAN

TLP ban

Editorial 

Published October 25, 2025 
DAWN

AFTER the federal cabinet approved the ban on the TLP a day earlier, the interior ministry published a notification on Friday saying that the state believed there were “reasonable grounds” to proscribe the hard-line outfit due to its connection with “terrorism”.

Going by the government’s signals, a formal ban had seemed imminent after TLP cadres clashed with the state in a deadly showdown last week. The immediate trigger was the administration’s refusal to let the outfit march on Islamabad in supposed solidarity with Gaza. This would be the second time the religiously inspired party has been banned. The last proscription in 2021 lasted only a few months, but this time the state appears intent on sustaining the ban. However, one should keep in mind that extremist parties and groups have been banned earlier too, but have re-emerged under new monikers.

PML-N leader and adviser to the PM Rana Sanaullah has said that the state had no issue with the TLP’s religious views and the ban was not designed to ‘eliminate’ the party. Rather, it was supposed to purge “anti-state and terrorist elements”. Going by this logic, if the aim is to target individuals who break the law, why does the state ban parties and groups?

Moreover, in the past, how many heads of militant groups, sectarian outfits and extremist parties have been tried for their crimes? The state’s history of banning groups — from the Musharraf era to date — does not inspire confidence, as outfits are proscribed on paper, but cases against their leaders and active cadres are not diligently pursued. There is also the genuine fear that the powers that be may apply the labels of ‘terrorism’ and ‘extremism’ to ban political parties that have fallen afoul of the state.

In reality, the policy of banning groups is tragicomic. Nacta’s current list of proscribed organisations contains over 80 entries, with some going as far back as 2001. Most of the groups that populate this list ascribe to jihadi, sectarian or extremist ideologies, with a smattering of separatist and ethno-nationalist outfits. But the modus operandi of ‘banned’ groups is to restart work under new names after the ban. For example, Jamaatud Dawa, an incarnation of Lashkar-i-Taiba, has at least 10 aliases, most of which are banned. Moreover, sectarian outfit Sipah-i-Sahaba, which now operates under the ASWJ moniker, has worked under three different names, some banned, others not.

The point is that unless the leaders and members of extremist groups are prosecuted for their crimes — promoting terrorism, inciting violence, hate speech, etc — the state’s attempts to impose bans will not work. The state has banned TLP today, but until those associated with it who have broken the law are prosecuted, it may re-emerge tomorrow in an even more extreme form.

Published in Dawn, October 25th, 2025

The ‘operation’

Aasim Sajjad Akhtar 

Published October 25, 2025 

DAWN

WE have been here before. Religious militants previously patronised by the state and valorised by the official intelligentsia are cut down to size in a ferocious high-profile operation. A vocal section of the educated classes, predominantly of liberal persuasion, applaud the state’s new-found resolve to ‘crush terrorism’.

The ‘popular’ backing for the crackdown gives the state carte blanche, but it soon becomes apparent that neither the ideological foundations nor the material bases of religious militancy have been weakened. Meanwhile, the proverbial counterterrorism card is increasingly deployed to clamp down on political opponents in particular, and progressive voices in general.

With the federal government having just notified a ban on the TLP for a second time, will things turn out any differently this time? To be sure, the existential challenge posed by religious militancy extends beyond the TLP, as the recent blowback vis-à-vis the Afghan Taliban — and their TTP protégés — lays bare.

The Pakhtun tribal districts have of course experienced the most military operations against ‘terrorists’. Time and again, lofty claims of success have been belied by the killing and maiming of innocents, and destruction of local people’s livelihoods. The end result has been alienation of the very people that should otherwise be the primary beneficiary of any initiative to establish genuine and lasting peace. Recent operations and drone strikes in Bajaur and Tirah are a rinse and repeat of what has been happening for 20 years.

What authorities call ‘collateral damage’ shows the short-sightedness of state policy. One can oppose the ideology of the TLP and its normalisation of mob lynching, whilst at the same time acknowledging that Barelvi militancy has deep social backing that will not be severed magically by the Muridke operation and subsequent criminalisation of the TLP leadership.


Will things be different after the TLP ban?

The government repeating ad nauseam that only three civilians were killed is out of sync with the widespread allegation — not limited only to TLP supporters — that many more died. Whichever version of the event one may believe, the point is that the lives lost in the operation will likely serve as a rallying call that further entrenches the insular Barelvi militant worldview, whether that takes the form of the TLP or something else in the future.

After all, militant ideologies are founded upon concrete material bases. Beyond the Noor Wali Mehsuds and Saad Rizvis of the world, many rank-and-file members of Islamist organisations are drawn towards militancy at least in part because they hail from socially depressed classes and castes. The violent assertion that they experience when they join the organisations is, seen thus, a reaction to the conditions of their existence.

Too often, the liberal commentariat sees the phenomenon of religiously inspired militancy like a light switch that was once turned on by the state, and can therefore be turned off in much the same way. The state has long weaponised religion and much would change if it stopped patronising militant groups for cynical reasons. But launching the odd operation against a ‘good’ Taliban or TLP that has gone ‘bad’ does not mean that the societal roots of militant ideologies have been emptied out. Bear in mind that retrogressive educational curricula and popular media discourses remain unreformed.

Liberal euphoria at the temporary ‘victories’ of the state should not distract from the fact that there is no substitute for the popularisation of a meaningful progressive political alternative that can channel the needs and desires of the mass of you­ng people — prim­arily men but also women — who gra­vitate towards the militant right.

Does this mean that there should be no punitive action against religiously motivated militants who thrive on killing? Not at all. There can and must be consequences for those who weaponise religion to further their violent agenda — without resort to extra-legal mechanisms. By the same token, the strategic masterminds who cultivated the militant right should not be allowed to get away scot-free while shifting the burden of their entire enterprise onto the brutalised young men — and sometimes women — who become the foot soldiers of hate.

Ultimately, a comprehensive ‘operation’ to displace retrogressive ideologies from society will be completed regardless of the state’s expediency. Whenever this comes to pass it will be performed by pro-people left-progressives that take back the language of class and anti-imperialism from the right. The establishment cultivated the religious right at least in part to suppress the ideology and politics of the left. The latter must rebuild its own bases amongst working people for the tide of history to turn once again.

The writer teaches at Quaid-i-Azam University, Islamabad.

Published in Dawn, October 25th, 2025

 

Pakistan As A Consequence Of The Partition Of British India In 1947 – Analysis

 October 6, 2025

By Dr. Vladislav B. Sotirovic

Pakistan as a country

Pakistan is a country located in the northwest of the Indian sub-continent. It borders Iran on the west, Afghanistan on the north-west, China on the north-east, and India on the east, with the direct exit to the Arabian Sea. 

Physically, from the rest of Asia, Pakistan is separated in the north by the Hindu Kush, Karakoram, and the Himalaya high ring of mountain chains. Other mountain ranges are going down on the Pakistani western side to the Arabian Sea. Below them is the long and broad valley of the Indus River. The Province of the North-West Frontier contains the strategically very important Khyber Pass, which is very high. Toward the south is the Punjab plateau. It is watered by the tributaries of the Indus River, where wheat is grown. However, to the east is the Thar Desert. It is important to stress that between the Sind Desert, which covers part of the Indus delta, and Baluchistan in the western hills, there are large reserves of natural gas and, to a certain extent, oil, which is also found in Punjab.  

Pakistan has a predominantly agricultural economy. The focal export goods are raw and processed cotton, cotton fabrics, and rice. Other agricultural products include sugar cane, wheat, and maize. Livestock-raising is important too. Textiles are an important part of the Pakistani industry and are substantially contributing to Pakistani exports. Other industries include chemicals, cement production, fertilizer, and food processing. 

Population

The inhabitants of Pakistan are about 88% Pakistani Muslims, while there are about 11% Indians (Hindi). Of all the other ethnic groups, Baluchistanis are the most numerous. Baluchistan, as a province, is the least populated. With the partition of British India in 1947 into Pakistan and India, Pakistan received a predominantly Muslim population as well as a larger number of Indians, and vice versa. In the period from 1947 to 1950, population exchange between Pakistan and India, including ethnic cleansing, reached the scale of several million inhabitants in both directions. In Pakistan, the official language is Urdu (the Muslim variant of the Hindi language), which in 1972 replaced English as the official language. However, several other local/regional languages ​​are in use. In 1970, 80% of Pakistan’s inhabitants were illiterate, which caused a lack of professional and educated staff, and this was especially felt in the administration and economy. 

For the sake of more comprehensive education and the reduction of illiteracy, in September 1972, 176 private colleges were nationalized. There were three universities in Pakistan then. About 15% of the population lived in cities, while there were 10 cities with over 100,000 inhabitants. The capital of Pakistan was Rawalpindi from 1959, while today it is Islamabad. Until 1959, the largest city in Pakistan was Karachi. Today, Pakistan has a population of 251 million in an area of ​​881,913 sq. km. The GDP is 373 billion dollars, while the GDP per capita is almost 1500 dollars.

State organization

With the division of the British colony of (British) India into two states, India and Pakistan, on August 15th, 1947, Pakistan received the status of dominion, and according to the constitution of February 29th, 1956, it became a republic – the Islamic Republic of Pakistan, composed of two federal units: West and East Pakistan.

By the military coup of October 1958, the constitution was abolished, and a new one was adopted in March 1962. This new constitution provided for a federal system of government, a presidential system of government (the president must be a Muslim and is elected for 5 years), a National Assembly of 156 deputies (78 deputies from each of the two federal units) and two capital cities: Islamabad in West Pakistan (seat of the central government) and Dhaka in East Pakistan (seat of the National Assembly). However, the constitution from 1962 was repealed on March 25th, 1969, and only partially reinstated on April 4th, 1969. 

A turning point in Pakistan’s history was the separation of East Pakistan from West Pakistan in December 1971, when East Pakistan declared itself an independent state under the name Bangladesh. Thus, the new state of Pakistan included only the territory of the former West Pakistan. In January 1972, Pakistan left the British Commonwealth.

A modern history of Pakistan up to the Partition in 1947

Pakistan is a country that came under British colonial control in the first half of the 19th century, when it became part of (a Greater) British India. Interestingly, its name is derived from the word “pak” (ritually pure) in the Urdu language. In other words, it means “Land of the Pure”. However, it is as well as an acronym for its most important component peoples: Punjabis, Afghans, Kashmirs, Sindhis, and the peoples of Baluchistan.

At the beginning of the 20th century, there were only a several moves towards independence. One of the reasons was that those people living in the north in Punjab and Kashmir have been great beneficiaries of the British Raj, and occupied important posts in the administration and army of British India. It was among the more disadvantaged Muslim minority in north-central India that a Muslim cultural and political identity began to form, mainly due to several reformers and organizations like the Muslim League, a party founded on December 30th, 1906, in Dacca. Originally, the party fought for separate Muslim representation at all levels of government. The party claimed to represent the grievances and demands of the entire Muslim community within British India. 

Under its leader, Jinnah, the Muslim League issued several requirements for greater rights of Indian Muslims in a vast country of British India in which Muslims at that time accounted for some ¼ of the total population. Nevertheless, this political demand became all the more urgent with the increasing momentum of the Indian National Congress (the INC) under M. Gandhi, which made self-government or even independence under a Hindu-dominated government all but inevitable during the 1930s. In the first decades of its existence, the Muslim League pursued the dual aim of winning greater rights of self-government from the British colonial power and of winning greater rights for Muslims within such a British system. In order to achieve the first aim, the Muslim League cooperated with the INC, with which it allied itself in the Lucknow Pact of December 1916. However, the League was largely ineffective in the 1920s, when it claimed to have some 1.000 members in the whole of British India. This led to a decade in the 1930s of a major revision of the political goals of the Muslim League and the organization itself for the sake of appealing to the disparate Muslim community. 

The League, in 1930, addressed its annual conference to demand, for the first time, a separate Muslim state in the western portion of British India. This demand became gradually accepted, particularly after the Muslim League’s catastrophic showing in the 1937 elections, when it gained only 104 out of 489 Muslim seats. Therefore, its leader, Jinnah, now sought to broaden its popular base. On March 23rd, 1940, the requirement for a separate Muslim state became accepted as the official party’s policy in the coming years. It was known as the Pakistan Resolution or the Lahore Resolution, which, in fact, warned that if conditions for Muslims, especially in areas with a Muslim minority, did not improve, Muslims would lay claim to separate states as their homelands. The very idea of separate Muslim states referred to the western provinces of British India and East Bengal. The Muslim League in 1944 claimed over 2.000.000 members. The League got in the 1945−1946 elections 75% of the Muslim vote. Therefore, the Muslim League got a popular mandate for the creation of a separate Muslim state in the western regions of British India. This task was finally achieved by the creation of an independent Pakistan on August 15th, 1947. However, initially dominant in Pakistani politics, after the death of its party’s leader, Jinnah, the Muslim League lacked an integrative force and soon dissolved into various groups in the coming decade.  

All the countries of South Asia have been troubled by the special position of minorities and of regional groups. The Indian government’s attempt to foster Hindi was soon faced by demands for a new structure of states on linguistic lines, and from the 1950s onward, state boundaries have been rearranged. However, the linguistic feeling remained strong, especially in South India in Madras State, which was renamed Tamil Nadu. Before 1947, Pakistan formed part of British India, but following the British withdrawal from the Indian sub-continent in 1947, Pakistan was created as a separate state, comprising the territory to the north-east and north-west of ex-British India in which the population was predominantly Muslim. In Pakistan, linguistic and regional demands were initially resisted, and the separate provinces of West Pakistan were amalgamated as One Unit. However, regional loyalties forced a return to the old provinces, representing linguistic regions, in 1970. In East Pakistan, the strength of Bengal culture and grievances against the dominant West Pakistan elite fostered a demand for autonomy and later for independence.  

The Partition in 1947

For the reason that no agreement could be reached on a unified form of independence, a decision was required about the partition of the Indian sub-continent. The areas in the northwest with a Muslim majority were allowed to choose separation and the formation of a new state of Pakistan. The provinces of British India, which were affected, voted either through their elected representatives or by plebiscite. The rulers of the princely states within British India chose whether to join the independent state of India or where their boundaries marched with the new partition line, Pakistan. Punjab and Bengal were separately partitioned. Independence came to India and Pakistan in August 1947, to Burma in January 1948, and to Ceylon in February 1948. 

In India, it was fraught with problems from the beginning. The major part of the Indian sub-continent wished to remain united under the leadership of Nehru and the Indian National Congress. However, the explosive situation and the impossibility of securing agreement between Congress and the Muslim League led by Jinnah forced the hand of the Viceroy, Lord Mountbatten, and on August 14th, 1947, the sub-continent became partitioned and the new state of Pakistan (physically composed of two parts) came into existence. The princely states (500+) have been left to the individual decisions of their rulers, who could, in effect, join either India or Pakistan if their boundaries marched with the new partition lines.

For both India and Pakistan, the first question was the delimitation of frontiers between the new states. However, this question particularly affected the provinces of Punjab and Bengal, where the populations were so mixed that partition seemed the only feasible solution (like in Bosnia-Herzegovina in the 1990s). But the boundary award cut through areas which in Punjab were occupied by rich farmlands populated by Sikhs, Muslims, and Hindus as neighbors.   

Nevertheless, the partition of British India soon led to the high rank of violence between Hindus and Muslims as communal riots followed, and a two-way exodus started, with Muslims moving west and Sikhs and Hindus moving east, with more than 1 million people killed. Around 7.5 million Muslim refugees fled to both parts of Pakistan from India, and around 10 million Hindus and Sikhs left Pakistan for India. The partition of Bengal produced similar results. Overall, some 500.000 people lost their lives. Muhammad Ali Jinnah, President of the Muslim League, became Pakistan’s first governor-general (President). The new state was composed of the western provinces of Baluchistan, Sind, Punjab, and North-West Frontier (or known as West Pakistan). Separated by Indian territory was the eastern half of Bengal, which also belonged to the newly proclaimed independent Pakistan (or known as East Pakistan).

In addition to the resettlement of the refugees, the governments had to integrate the 500+ princely states. Most princes were persuaded to accede, promptly, to either India or Pakistan. Hyderabad resisted and became absorbed only after the action by the security forces (police). The ruler of Kashmir as well as hesitated, and an invasion of tribesmen from the Pakistani North West Frontier Province followed. The Maharaja then acceded to India, subject to a plebiscite of the Kashmir people, but Pakistan supported the tribal invaders. The situation was only stabilized by the mediation of the UN in 1949. 

The new state of Pakistan was, from the very beginning, confronted by plenty of problems. The most immediate of these was extensive migration (around 17.5 million people), as a consequence of the partition of British India into a Hindu and Muslim state. In addition, Pakistan contested its borders, as it competed with India over control of Kashmir. This confrontation has led to hostile relations with India up to today and the conduct of three Indo-Pakistani Wars. Moreover, Pakistan suffered as well from the tension between the majority of the population living in East Pakistan and the important posts in government, administration, and the military being occupied by officials from the wealthier and better-educated West Pakistan. These problems have been compounded by the total lack of any tradition or history as a single, unitary state. On one hand, East Pakistan (or East Bengal) was relatively homogeneous, but on the other hand, West Pakistan was composed of regions with widely different economies and ethnicities and with different degrees of religious observance. Some tribes of the North-West Frontier had devout observance of Islam and a history of autonomy within the former British colonial system. They have been contrasted with the more secular elite of Punjab, which had been well integrated into the British colonial administration.   

A contemporary history of Pakistan since the Partition in 1947 up to 9/11

The problem of finding a compromise that would create a viable, integrated, and constitutional entity bedeviled Pakistan during its existence. Pakistan continued to be formally ruled by the 1935 Government of India Act until 1956. The country’s liberal constitution became opposed by the fundamentalist Muslims, and in 1951, the Prime Minister Liaqat Ali Khan was assassinated by an Afghan fundamentalist. In 1954, a state of emergency was declared, and a new constitution was adopted in 1956. However, the new political settlement failed to stabilize the country sufficiently to prevent the 1958 army coup, led by Ayub Khan. It was an attempt to adopt a multiparty system, but it failed, and consequently, Ayub Khan imposed martial law in 1958. He, in fact, abolished the recently established democracy but without much resistance, and devised a second constitution in 1962. 

On the other hand, Ayub Khan’s decade of power produced economic growth, followed, however, by political resentment as the two parts of the Pakistani state have been physically separated by a thousand kilometers of the territory of the independent and hostile Republic of India. Allegations by the Bengalis in East Pakistan against West Pakistan’s disproportionate share of the state’s assets led to demands by the Awami League, led by Mujibur Rahman, for regional autonomy. Nonetheless, in the following civil war in 1971, the Bengali dissidents defeated the Pakistani army, with help from India. It resulted in the establishment of the new state of Bangladesh in the same year. 

In 1965, Pakistan attempted to infiltrate troops into Kashmir. In the fighting which ensued, India made some gains, but in the agreement afterward reached in Tashkent under Soviet auspices, both countries agreed to return to the status quo. His precipitation of a costly and unsuccessful war with India over Kashmir in 1965, and increasing economic difficulties in Pakistan, finally led to his resignation in 1969. Relations between Pakistan and India continued to be tense, however, and rapidly worsened in 1971 when Pakistani military President, Yahya Khan, cruelly repressed the demands for autonomy in East Pakistan (East Bengal, later Bangladesh), which led to 10 million refugees crossing over into India. 

In 1970, the first-ever general democratic election has been organized, which brought to power in Pakistan Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, leader of the Pakistan People’s Party. However, these elections were won by the Awami League in East Pakistan. Therefore, the West Pakistani political establishment, led by Yahya Khan, refused to hand over power and sent military troops to secure control in East Pakistan. This action caused a short but extremely violent civil war, and led, after Indian military intervention in December 1971, which supported the Bangladesh guerrilla with powerful military forces, which defeated the Pakistani army within two weeks, to the independence of East Pakistan as Bangladesh. Zulfikar Bhutto, as the new President since 1971, created a populist and socialist regime. His program of nationalization, public works, and independence from US financial help failed to overcome the negative effects of the oil price shock of 1973, leading Pakistan into an economic crisis. He introduced constitutional, social, and economic reforms, but in 1977 was deposed in an army coup led by Zia-ul-Haq and later executed.   

Zia-ul-Haq improved Pakistani relations with the USA after the Soviet invasion of neighboring Afghanistan in 1979, when Pakistan came to host up to three million Afghan refugees, followed by bases for Afghan guerrillas. US military and civilian assistance led to high economic growth in the 1980s. However, Zia-ul-Haq died in a 1988 plane crash. His successor, Ishaq Khan, supervised the transition back to democracy, with the 1988 elections won by Zulfikar Ali Bhutto’s daughter, Benazir Bhutto. She failed to establish control over the country and was dismissed by Khan in 1990 on charges of corruption. However, she became re-elected in 1993, but once again struggled to maintain control in a country plagued by crime, the international drugs trade, and the growing assertiveness of some of the Pakistani provinces (Baluchistan and Sind) and tribes (North West Frontier Province). 

Benazir Bhutto became dismissed by President Leghari once again on formal charges of corruption and mismanagement in 1996 and was finally succeeded by Mian Muhammad Nawaz Sharif (leader of the Islamic Democratic Alliance) in 1997, who proceeded to strengthen his position by changing the constitution, which limited the power of the Prime Minister (the PM). Nevertheless, he as well as confronted the judiciary, which he sought to conciliate towards his policies. Ultimately, in 1999, he sought to introduce Islamic law in Pakistan, but this attempt led to widespread demonstrations, while at the same time, the deteriorating economic situation had already eroded Sharif’s popular support, and for the reason of his pro-Western position during the First Gulf War/Desert Storm, 1990‒1991. His order to the army to withdraw forces from Kashmir and his dismissal of Musharraf led to a successful army coup, headed by Musharraf himself, who suspended the constitution, moved to put Pakistani political and judicial institutions under military control, and tried to stabilize the economy to placate international creditors. After establishing control, Musharraf’s regime became more liberal. However, it happened only after 9/11 (in 2001) that his regime became welcomed in the Western international arena. His decisive support of the US War on Terrorism brought great foreign policy benefits and enabled him to gain very much-needed Western international loans. Nevertheless, his pro-US stance was criticized by many Islamic fundamentalists and radicals in Pakistan, so that needed to temper by a moderate stance towards radical Islamist groups in Kashmir. In 1998, Pakistan carried out a series of underground nuclear tests in response to a similar program by the focal regional enemy – India. 

The political situation in Pakistan remained turbulent, including intra-ethnic violence in Karachi, followed by national economic problems. Pakistani industrial expansion emphasized the private sector and consumer goods. Nonetheless, unemployment rose more rapidly than new production, and up to 70% of the population is still dependent on agriculture. Both governments of India and Pakistan have been putting greater emphasis on better yields from the soil. Though the rate of growth remains slow, both India and Pakistan have succeeded in attaining self-sufficiency in food. Yet some 40% of the rural population remains undernourished because their income is very low.  

Finally, from 1947 up to 1971, there were three Pakistani-Indian Wars: the First (1947‒1948); the Second (September 1st‒23rd, 1965); and the Third (December 3rd‒16th, 1971). These Pakistani-Indian wars were the result of unresolved issues, but especially border-territorial ones, between Pakistan and India that appeared after the British division of the Indian subcontinent, i.e., of British India, in August 1947 between these two states. As a consequence of the Third War, Pakistan lost its eastern territories, on which the new state of Bangladesh was formed. After the war, the general balance of power on the Indian subcontinent changed in India’s favour. India, also improved its strategic and geopolitical position. Nevertheless, the region of Kashmir has been left to be he apple of discord between Pakistan and India to our da

Dr. Vladislav B. Sotirovic is an ex-university professor and a Research Fellow at the Center for Geostrategic Studies in Belgrade, Serbia.

Opinion...

Pakistan’s nuclear gamble: The new great game in the Middle East

J
Pakistan national flag. [Photo by Matt King-ICC/ICC via Getty Images]

by Jasim Al-Azzawi
Middle East Monitor 

September 25, 2025 

Three capitals —Washington, Tel Aviv, and Tehran —are suddenly recalculating after a development that, on the surface, appeared to be routine defence cooperation. Saudi Arabia and Pakistan’s deepening strategic ties have carried whispers of something larger: a pathway, however tentative, toward Riyadh acquiring nuclear capability should it decide that Iran’s march toward enrichment leaves it no other choice.

The chessboard of global power politics has just been tilted on its side, and the pieces are sliding into new and dangerous positions. The shift is seismic. Pakistan has signalled its willingness to extend its nuclear umbrella to Saudi Arabia, an unprecedented declaration that reorders the strategic calculus from the Arabian Peninsula to the Indian Subcontinent.

The announcement, delivered by Pakistan’s Defence Minister Khawaja Asif in the wake of a newly minted Strategic Mutual Defense Agreement with Saudi Arabia, is not just about a bilateral pact; it is the culmination of a half-century-old strategic bargain. Riyadh’s discreet financing of Pakistan’s nuclear program in the 1970s, a response to the twin shocks of the Iranian Revolution and the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, was an investment in a security future that is only now coming to fruition. It was a classic case of what the late Henry Kissinger called “the paradox of nuclear proliferation”: efforts to prevent it often create the very insecurities that accelerate it.


READ: Pakistan expands nuclear umbrella to cover Saudi Arabia

Pakistan’s history makes it the one country that could plausibly offer Riyadh more than vague assurances. Islamabad possesses not only the bomb but also the A.Q. Khan legacy — a reminder of how nuclear expertise was once traded across borders with little transparency. While Pakistan today insists on strict controls, its economic struggles and reliance on Gulf investment give Saudi Arabia leverage it has not had before. This creates the unsettling possibility that what begins as conventional military cooperation could evolve into something with nuclear undertones.

This new arrangement introduces a form of what might be called “entrepreneurial deterrence,” where a middle power like Pakistan leverages its nuclear capability not just for its own defense but as a tool for broader strategic influence. The language of the pact is deliberately NATO-like, asserting that “any aggression against either country shall be considered an aggression against both.” But unlike the North Atlantic alliance, this is a partnership without decades of institutional safeguards, without the command and control mechanisms that have prevented miscalculation for seven decades.

The timing of the overture is not accidental. Pakistan’s recent spectacular military engagements with India have served as a tactical audition. In the May 2025 conflict, Pakistan’s air force demonstrated a new level of precision strikes and electronic warfare capabilities enhanced by its expanding relationship with China. These were not just operations; they were a strategic advertisement, an unambiguous message to Riyadh that Pakistan possesses the technical and military prowess to back up its nuclear promises. This sudden development will undoubtedly be closely studied by New Delhi, given its implications for India’s own national security.

To understand what is happening here, one must look not just to Islamabad and Riyadh, but to Beijing. China’s role is that of a quiet choreographer. Through its massive Belt and Road investments, particularly in the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC), Beijing has cultivated Pakistan as a strategic client. By offering a nuclear security guarantee to Saudi Arabia, Pakistan is, in effect, serving as a proxy extension of Chinese influence in the Gulf. This allows Beijing to offer Riyadh a security buffer against Iran—and a hedge against a potentially disengaging United States—without direct Chinese entanglement. It is a brilliant piece of grand strategy, straight out of the Zbigniew Brzezinski playbook: control the rimland of Eurasia through proxy relationships.

The implications for the region are a proliferation cascade waiting to happen. For Israel, long the region’s undeclared nuclear power, this is a fundamental challenge to its strategic ambiguity. The prospect of Pakistani nuclear weapons, or even command authority over them, in the hands of a regional rival fundamentally alters the balance of power. For Iran, the message is even more stark. Tehran will almost certainly interpret this pact as an existential threat, a final piece of evidence that the regional balance of power has shifted decisively against it, thus accelerating its own nuclear timeline. As one senior Saudi official told Reuters, “This is a comprehensive defensive agreement that encompasses all military means.” It is precisely that comprehensiveness that will unnerve Iran and could trigger a dangerous arms race.


READ: Saudi Arabia, Pakistan and the unmaking of an American order

This strategic realignment places the United States in a highly challenging position. For decades, Washington has been the ultimate guarantor of Gulf security. However, as America’s strategic focus shifts to Asia, and China strives to fill the void, a new reality is emerging. The Saudis, with their immense wealth and growing ambition, are no longer content to be a client state; they are actively seeking security. Pakistan’s offer of “entrepreneurial deterrence” is precisely the kind of alternative they are looking for.

This is the new great game in the Middle East, and America’s rules will not apply to it. As former Pakistani diplomat Maleeha Lodhi noted, “For Pakistan, the power projection into the Middle East is huge, even though it has inserted itself into a volatile region.” The question now is whether this new architecture leads to a new and more stable form of multipolar deterrence or, as many fear, descends into nuclear anarchy. The old era of informal alliances and gentlemen’s agreements is over. The Middle East is entering a new, more explicit, and potentially far more dangerous phase of deterrence, and Pakistan is at its very center.

The views expressed in this article belong to the author and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of Middle East Monitor.

Pakistan and Saudi Arabia 

Elite pact

Arifa Noor 

Published September 23, 2025
DAWN

THERE is a new defence pact in town — or, shall one say, the region.

Pakistan and Saudi Arabia have signed a defence agreement with pomp and celebration and the announcement has caused much noise and buzz at home and abroad (in some places). Commentary, analyses, songs and discussions, applause — it is all there.

And while the discussion is far from over and one can find much praise and a little bit of criticism from the cheerleaders and doubting Thomases, there is a consensus that very little information is available at the moment. Serious and insightful comment, it seems, will have to wait.

Indeed, more details will need to be filled in and a fuller picture made available before a comprehensive analysis can be undertaken. No wonder then that at the moment, there are more questions than answers and more conjecture than information — questions about what this pact will mean operationally; what the two countries will commit to each other; whether or not this pact has been signed with a specific state in mind or not; and whether it will be expanded to include more countries or followed by more bilateral accords.

But even in the absence of answers, the euphoria in Pakistan is instructive. There is hope, conjecture and even belief that this pact will bring ‘good’ times for the country. And these hopes do not necessarily emanate from officialdom but are also being discussed privately.

Partly, this is understandable because Saudi Arabia has always come to Pakistan’s rescue in the past — with oil on deferred payments as well as loans that help with our forever crisis, ie, low foreign reserves. Even now, the country is one of the biggest contributors to our reserves, with a loan that will be rolled over (and over) whenever the moment arrives.

Domestically, the Pak-Saudi pact is being viewed exactly the same way as some past moments.

So now that there is a formal agreement in place for a bilateral defence pact, in which each promises to come to the aid of the one that is under attack, the conclusions everyone is jumping to are quick. Obviously, Pakistan will provide the muscle power in this relationship, with its well-known military prowess, and obviously, Riyadh will provide some financial concessions or assistance to Islamabad. The good times, they are a comin’.

But these assumptions reveal the elite consensus, shaped over decades, which continues to be in place. A consensus in which the elite want to use external funds to run the economy, wittingly or unwittingly accepting the primary role of the military in not just ensuring these funds but also being the main player domestically. And the politicians are willing to accept the role of the junior partner, in politics and in terms of the share of the money. Funds they too squirrel away while spending a wee bit on the populace.

Even though the past few years seemed to offer little to no chance of geostrategic rents, the ruling elite was and is reluctant to change its mad, bad ways. The previous PML-N government counted on CPEC; the PTI had hopes of investment from overseas Pakistanis; the 2022 floods led to talk of climate-related aid; then came the talk about investment from the Gulf. The common thread running through all this is the notion that some external flows would help end the crisis without the country having to go through the pain of reform and real adjustment.

It is noteworthy that this ‘hope’ was real even though it was accompanied by a public debate on critical economic challenges and problems, in terms of diagnosis and prescriptions — whether it was to increase the tax base or to reduce government spending at the centre or even amend the NFC. The detail with which these discussions took place was unprecedented. But for those in power, even as they took part in these discussions, the political will was missing. Bad habits formed over years are simply part of the explanation.

Another reason for this is also the challenge of legitimacy. Those in power, be it the PTI government in power or the present set-up, are so insecure they would rather offer immediate relief, however unsustainable, than go through the painful reform process.

It is this hope of immediate relief that led to the ‘chatter’ around the domestic implications of this pact. While much of this conversation was positive, there were also comments about the fear of Pakistan selling itself cheap. This stems no doubt from the view that post-9/11, Pervez Musharraf had been overly eager to join the US-led effort and had not bargained well enough. Whether or not one agrees with this view, there is no doubt that the decision allowed the general to successfully create the mirage of economic prosperity and buffer his regime.

Hence, it is no wonder that, however much the world and Pakistan’s place in it are changing, domestically, this pact is being viewed exactly the same way as some past moments — an opportunity to stabilise and sustain this set-up, along with the balance of power it has put in place.

However, it would be worth asking if the inflow that is being expected is going to be comparable to what came our way in the past — a question which requires the expertise of those more familiar with economic matters. But even if the sums are generous, what will this mean for the populace at large? For this elite consensus, for the most part, has also meant a complete disregard, if not wilful negligence, of the development of the people. And this neglect of the people will continue to pose the biggest challenge to the ruling elite, even if they are able to sustain the current set-up as well as successfully evade the criticism about the quality of democracy. It would be worth paying attention to this in the middle of celebrations.

The writer is a journalist.

Published in Dawn, September 23rd, 2025

Regional security

Editorial 

Published September 20, 2025

DAWN

THE Strategic Mutual Defence Agreement, signed between Pakistan and Saudi Arabia, is making an impact far beyond Islamabad and Riyadh.

While there is talk of extending the bilateral pact to other states, thus creating a larger regional security framework, there has also been unnecessary speculation about the use of Pakistan’s nuclear assets. Indeed, the expansion of defence cooperation is a project worth pursuing as currently both the Middle East and South Asia are experiencing geopolitical volatility. But where questions about nuclear arms are concerned, Pakistan should reiterate that its atomic weapons are a deterrent, meant solely for self-defence.

Pakistan has joined military alliances earlier, including the Cold War-era Seato and Cento pacts, which put it squarely in the Western camp. In these US-led alliances, Pakistan was little more than a bit player. However, the defence pact with Riyadh is different, as Pakistan today has a combat-hardened military and much-improved defence capabilities. The country’s profile was strengthened following the military clash with India earlier this year, sending the message that Pakistan could defend itself against a much larger foe. All these factors, as well as the irresponsible Israeli attack on Qatar, likely convinced the Saudis that it was the right time to seal the deal.

Now, there are indications that the military partnership could expand. Defence Minister Khawaja Asif told an interviewer that “the doors are not closed” on other states. As we have argued, the Islamic Military Counter Terrorism Coalition could be repurposed for a larger defence role, bringing together Muslim states under one banner. Such an alliance, along the lines of Nato, would strengthen the security of all member states, and deter enemies from violating the sovereignty of Muslim and Arab countries. But the doors of membership should remain open to all Muslim states.

Meanwhile, all relevant circles should exercise caution in their words and actions. There is much speculation in the Western media that the Pakistan-Saudi deal would make this country’s nukes available to Riyadh — perhaps because some Saudi officials have been quoted as saying that the pact ‘encompasses all military means’. When asked about the nuclear issue, Khawaja Asif said that “our capabilities, will absolutely be available under this pact”, though he added that Pakistan remains a responsible nuclear power.

Any concerns on this front must be allayed immediately, and government officials in particular should unambiguously state that, as per Pakistan’s nuclear doctrine, the atomic weapons are meant as a deterrent.

Meanwhile, Pakistan and the other Muslim states should pool their conventional defensive resources. Numerous Muslim states in the Middle East have been attacked by Israel, while Pakistan has increasingly faced Indian aggression. A defence pact could thus make adversaries think twice about launching strikes.

Published in Dawn, September 20th, 2025