This duality—preaching unity while practicing duplicity—has become Pakistan’s diplomatic hallmark.

When the Taliban stormed into Kabul in August 2021, Pakistan’s powerful intelligence chief, Lt. Gen. Faiz Hameed, appeared at the Serena Hotel and assured journalists, “Everything will be okay.”

His confident smile captured Islamabad’s belief that decades of strategic maneuvering had finally paid off. Pakistan, long accused of nurturing the Taliban, assumed it would now wield decisive influence over its western neighbor.

Four years later, those hopes have turned to ashes. The Taliban’s rise, once hailed in Islamabad as a geopolitical triumph, has become a source of profound insecurity and humiliation.

The Tehrik-i-Taliban Pakistan (TTP), emboldened by its ideological kin in Kabul, has unleashed a deadly insurgency across Pakistan’s tribal belt. Hundreds of Pakistani soldiers have been killed in cross-border raids. The Taliban, despite Pakistan’s past support, has refused to curb the TTP.

The so-called “strategic depth” has instead exposed Pakistan’s strategic shallowness. A state that once boasted of controlling its proxies now finds itself hostage to them. The illusion of regional mastery has dissolved into a grim reality: Pakistan is isolated, insecure, and rapidly losing credibility.

Weaponizing Refugees

Having failed to tame the Taliban, Pakistan turned its frustration toward Afghan civilians. In October 2023, Islamabad launched the Illegal Foreigners Repatriation Plan (IFRP), targeting nearly 1.7 million undocumented Afghans. For decades, Afghan refugees had lived, worked, and raised families in Pakistan. Suddenly, they became scapegoats for Islamabad’s security failures.

By mid-2025, more than 600,000 Afghans had been deported in what international observers described as one of South Asia’s largest forced repatriations in decades. Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch chronicled chilling stories of police harassment, arbitrary detentions, and family separations.

Pakistan justified the campaign as a counterterrorism measure, accusing Afghan refugees of harboring TTP militants. But analysts saw it differently: an act of political retribution against the Taliban regime. Kabul condemned the deportations as a breach of international law and accused Islamabad of deepening Afghanistan’s humanitarian catastrophe.

This was more than just a border dispute—it was a symptom of Pakistan’s broader malaise. A state that once prided itself on being a refuge for the oppressed had turned into a place of fear and hostility. The moral cost of Islamabad’s Afghan policy was now unmistakable.

Airstrikes and Escalation

Pakistan’s response extended beyond deportations. Under the guise of pursuing TTP sanctuaries, it began conducting airstrikes inside Afghan territory.

In April 2022, bombings in Khost and Kunar killed 47 civilians, mostly women and children. Similar attacks followed in March and December 2024, targeting Paktika and Khost. In January 2025, fresh strikes were launched along the volatile Durand Line. Over a hundred civilians have died since 2021, according to regional monitors.

Each operation fuelled anger and anti-Pakistan protests across Afghanistan. The Taliban government condemned the attacks as violations of sovereignty, accusing Pakistan of hiding its failures behind a counterterrorism narrative.

By 2025, Pakistan’s western frontier was once again aflame—only this time, without American troops to share the blame. The Afghan war that Islamabad once believed it had outsourced had come home, exacting both human and diplomatic costs.

Diplomacy as Deception

The crisis reached a symbolic peak in September 2025, when Islamabad hosted the “Towards Unity and Trust” conference under the South Asian Strategic Stability Institute.

Despite the event’s conciliatory title, the Taliban government was conspicuously excluded. Instead, the gathering featured anti-Taliban activists and politicians, turning what was billed as a dialogue into an exercise in diplomatic provocation.

Just days later, Defense Minister Khawaja Asif labeled Afghanistan an “enemy state”—a stunning reversal from Pakistan’s earlier rhetoric of “brotherhood.”

This diplomatic whiplash mirrors a deeper inconsistency at the heart of Pakistan’s foreign policy. It speaks of a nation perpetually caught between ambition and insecurity, between Islamic solidarity and realpolitik.

Even its domestic realities now echo this hypocrisy.

In early October 2025, a story broke that underscored how deeply investor confidence has eroded under the current administration. Out of 23 oil and gas exploration blocks offered for bidding, no local or foreign bids were received for 22. The only bid came from Mari Gas, and even that was for a small block with negligible output.

Taimur Saleem Khan Jhagra, Pakistan’s opposition leader, wrote “investors know this is an illegitimate govt,” saying no company—foreign or domestic—was willing to invest in a country “without rule of law.” He accused the government of driving away foreign direct investment through arbitrary governance, economic mismanagement, and political repression.

This episode is emblematic of Pakistan’s larger credibility crisis. When even domestic energy firms shy away from state-backed ventures, the problem is not market dynamics—it is a collapse of trust. The same lack of accountability that defines Pakistan’s regional duplicity now poisons its economic foundations.

The Iran Paradox and the Palestine Hypocrisy

Pakistan’s double-dealing extends far beyond its Afghan misadventure.

In June 2025, Islamabad publicly condemned U.S. airstrikes on Iran’s nuclear facilities, declaring solidarity with Tehran. Yet, only days earlier, Army Chief Gen. Asim Munir had met privately with Donald Trump, reportedly discussing “regional stability.” In a surreal twist, Pakistan went on to nominate Trump for the 2026 Nobel Peace Prize, effectively undercutting its supposed alignment with Iran.

This duality—preaching unity while practicing duplicity—has become Pakistan’s diplomatic hallmark.

The same contradictions stain its stance on Palestine. While Pakistani leaders have long professed unwavering support for the Palestinian cause, history tells another story. During Black September 1970, Brigadier Zia ul-Haq, later Pakistan’s military ruler, helped Jordan crush the Palestine Liberation Organization, a massacre that claimed thousands of lives.

In July 2025, Pakistan awarded the Nishan-e-Imtiaz to U.S. CENTCOM Commander Gen. Michael Kurilla, despite his role in coordinating American military support for Israel during its Gaza operations.

At the UN General Assembly’s 80th session, Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif met Daniel Rosen, head of the American Jewish Congress, signaling a quiet but unmistakable outreach to pro-Israel circles.

For a country that brands itself the guardian of Muslim causes, the hypocrisy is striking. From Amman to Gaza, Pakistan’s leaders have consistently traded principle for expediency.

A Consistent Inconsistency

Across every theater—Afghanistan, Iran, Palestine, and even its own energy sector—a single pattern emerges: Pakistan’s promises collapse under the weight of its own contradictions.

It seeks influence in Kabul but alienates Afghans through bombings and deportations. It pledges brotherhood with Tehran while courting Washington. It proclaims solidarity with Palestine while decorating America’s military commanders. And now, it claims to welcome foreign investment while creating an environment so lawless that even local companies refuse to bid.

In the end, Pakistan’s gravest betrayal is not of its neighbors, but of itself. The erosion of credibility abroad mirrors the decay of governance at home. As investors flee, allies distance themselves, and insurgents advance, the message is clear: a nation that manipulates every alliance eventually stands alone.

For decades, Pakistan’s generals and politicians have built policies on the illusion of control. The Afghan gamble was meant to cement regional influence; instead, it has exposed a state adrift, distrusted by friends and foes alike.

The “everything will be okay” optimism of 2021 now rings hollow. For Pakistan, everything is decidedly not okay—and the world, finally, has stopped believing its promises.

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view.

South Asian governments, especially Pakistan and India, must take bold steps to integrate refugee children into local schools.

For more than four decades, Afghan families have been on the move, fleeing war, political turmoil, and the endless cycle of violence that has plagued their homeland. They sought safety in neighboring countries—primarily Pakistan and India—hoping to rebuild their lives in dignity. Yet, behind every political statement, diplomatic meeting, and policy debate lies a quieter tragedy: the lost childhoods of Afghan refugee children.

In Pakistan alone, the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR) estimates that over 1.4 million registered Afghan refugees currently live in the country. A significant proportion of them are school-age children. But for most of these children, the idea of attending school remains a distant dream. Financial hardships prevent families from paying school fees, while legal barriers and documentation issues often exclude them from local education systems. Even when access exists, language barriers leave many children unable to cope.

This educational vacuum forces young Afghan boys and girls into paths no child should have to take. Some end up working in brick kilns, carpet factories, or roadside shops to support their families. Others are pushed into early marriages, robbing girls of their adolescence and their chance at independence. For many, informal jobs replace classrooms, and survival becomes their only curriculum.

Girls suffer the most under these circumstances. In refugee camps and marginalized urban settlements, Afghan girls are often kept away from school due to cultural stigma and fears about safety. Parents worry about harassment, the lack of secure learning environments, and the long walks to poorly resourced schools. The result is heartbreaking—an entire generation of Afghan girls remains invisible to the education system.

The consequences are not confined to the refugee families alone; they ripple outward into host countries and the region as a whole. Experts have repeatedly warned that an uneducated refugee population is not merely a humanitarian challenge but a long-term security risk. Deprived of knowledge and opportunity, children are left vulnerable to exploitation, poverty cycles, and even radicalization. Without education, they risk becoming what aid agencies term a “lost generation”—a demographic with little chance of contributing productively to the societies around them.

The truth is sobering: Afghan refugee children do not lack intelligence, curiosity, or resilience. What they lack is opportunity. And opportunity can only come if governments, international organizations, and civil society recognize education as a humanitarian priority rather than a luxury.

South Asian governments, especially Pakistan and India, must take bold steps to integrate refugee children into local schools. This requires political will, financial support, and, above all, compassion. Incentives can be introduced for local schools that admit refugee children, while community-based programs can help overcome resistance from parents worried about costs or cultural gaps. Non-governmental organizations and aid agencies can also play a vital role by offering bridge programs that teach local languages, easing the transition for Afghan students.

The international community, too, must rise above rhetoric. Too often, we hear expressions of sympathy for Afghan refugees, but support rarely translates into long-term solutions. Financial aid should be targeted toward education infrastructure in refugee-hosting countries, not just short-term relief. Technology can also be harnessed—digital learning programs, low-cost tablets, and community learning centers can ensure that no child is left behind, even in remote camps.

At its core, education is not just about textbooks and classrooms. For Afghan refugee children, it is about reclaiming dignity, finding security, and nurturing hope for a future that is not defined by displacement. A child holding a schoolbag instead of a brick or a sewing machine is not just a symbol of personal progress—it is a promise of stability for the entire region.

History will judge us not only by how we sheltered Afghan refugees but also by how we enabled their children to dream again. Ensuring education for these children is not charity—it is justice. And justice, in this case, begins with the simple but powerful right to learn.

In an open letter circulating widely across Persian-language media platforms, the signatories warned that the Iranian state’s deportation campaign is not just a legal measure, but a humanitarian crisis in the making.

“We are well aware that the phrase ‘deportation of illegal migrants’ is a euphemism for inhumane treatment of all migrants—both legal and illegal,” the statement read.

The crackdown has reportedly expanded beyond previous justifications such as rising unemployment. Since the 12-day military engagement with Israel, Tehran has shifted to new allegations—accusing Afghan residents of being part of “espionage networks” and “infiltration cells” allegedly tied to foreign powers.

According to Afghanistan International, security forces have been seizing mobile phones from Afghan nationals in cities across Iran, under suspicions of “communication with Israel.” Many migrants, including those holding valid legal status, now fear travel within the country, citing random checkpoint interrogations and arrests.

Iran’s Interior Minister announced on Wednesday that over 400,000 foreign nationals have been deported in the past four months alone—an alarming figure that has drawn sharp criticism from regional observers and humanitarian groups.

“The injustice currently being inflicted on Afghans and other voiceless minorities is, above all, a betrayal of the core values we uphold—humanity, justice, and freedom,” the letter added.

Prominent Iranian dissidents and public figures are among those backing the initiative. Acclaimed actress Taraneh Alidoosti, journalist Lili Farhadpour, and human rights lawyer Mehrangiz Kar have lent their names to the growing outcry.

While Iran has long hosted one of the world’s largest populations of Afghan refugees, this latest phase signals a hardening stance by authorities—one that critics say reflects Tehran’s growing tendency to link internal ethnic and migrant issues to its external geopolitical rivalries.

Human rights organizations are urging the international community to pressure Tehran to comply with its obligations under international refugee law and halt what they describe as a state-sanctioned campaign of intimidation and forced returns.

Political Islam, once employed as an identity marker, now divides more than it unites.

In recent remarks, Pakistan’s Army Chief General Asim Munir articulated his ideological vision for the country with a clarity that many leaders deliberately avoid. He unapologetically reaffirmed the Two-Nation Theory and emphasized the enduring divide between Hindus and Muslims—a worldview deeply rooted in religious exclusivism.

For me, this honesty is refreshing. At least he is not hiding behind the concept of “Taqiya” (dissimulation) or the carefully crafted ambiguity that many political actors use. He owns his hardline position openly.

But we must ask—what does this ideological commitment to Islamic identity actually mean in practice? If Islam is the unifying principle behind Pakistan’s statehood, as claimed by its top military leadership, then why have fellow Muslims suffered under its policies—both at home and across borders?

In 2023, the Pakistani state forcibly expelled nearly 1.7 million Afghan refugees, many of whom had been living in the country for decades. Men, women, and children—many of whom were born in Pakistan—were sent back to a nation plagued by instability and repression. These individuals were not ideological enemies or agents of discord; they were fellow Muslims seeking safety and sustenance. The logic behind their expulsion wasn’t religious. It was ethnic, political, and economic.

This contradiction isn’t new. In 1971, during the Bangladesh Liberation War, West Pakistan (now Pakistan) unleashed brutal violence against East Pakistanis (now Bangladeshis). According to historians, up to three million people were killed, and countless women were subjected to sexual violence. And who were the victims? They were not religious “others.” They were Muslims—sharing not just faith, but language, history, and family ties.

These historical and recent episodes raise a troubling question: Is Pakistan’s national identity truly anchored in Islam, or has religion been used selectively—as a political and strategic tool to justify repression, exclusion, and control?

The Two-Nation Theory, which underpinned the partition of British India in 1947, proposed that Muslims and Hindus were distinct nations who could not coexist peacefully in a single state. But this idea, though foundational to Pakistan’s creation, has since mutated. Rather than fostering a pluralistic Muslim society, the theory has been wielded to divide people further—between Punjabis and Pashtuns, Baloch and Mohajirs, Shias and Sunnis, Deobandis and Barelvis. The outcome is not national unity, but chronic fragmentation.

Instead of serving as a source of cohesion, Islam has become a battlefield of sectarian and ethnic contestation. Political Islam, once employed as an identity marker, now divides more than it unites. The lived reality of the Pakistani state contradicts its ideological claims. Whether it’s the suppression of Baloch voices, the marginalization of Sindhi culture, or the persecution of Shias, the nation has drifted far from its idealized Islamic unity.

This is not to say that Islam, as a faith or moral system, is to blame. The issue is how Islam has been instrumentalized by the state and military elites. When any religion becomes a political instrument, it loses its spiritual purpose and becomes a tool of coercion.

The youth of Pakistan—and indeed South Asia as a whole—deserve better than this endless recycling of exclusionary doctrines. They do not need more sermons on “us vs. them.” They need education systems that teach empathy, critical thinking, and historical introspection. They need media that values truth over propaganda. And most of all, they need leadership that champions collaboration over conflict.

True unity is not built by suppressing diversity. It is achieved by embracing it. Religion can inspire compassion and solidarity, but only when it is divorced from the machinery of state control and identity politics. A nation cannot find peace if its founding principle is fear of the other.

Pakistan’s future lies not in reinforcing ideological walls but in tearing them down—brick by brick. It lies in building bridges with its neighbors, reconciling with its own people, and redefining what it means to be Pakistani—not as a monolithic Islamic identity, but as a plural, inclusive, and humane society.

History has shown us where hate leads. It’s time to try something different.

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view.

There have been distressing accounts of refugee camps being vandalized by Pakistani authorities

The recent government orders in Pakistan regarding the arrest and deportation of individuals residing without appropriate documents have raised concerns about the treatment of Afghan refugees.

While Pakistan is a signatory to a tripartite agreement with Afghanistan and the UNHCR to ensure the safety and return of Afghan refugees, its actions may be seen as contravening the principle of non-refoulement.

There are active discussions about Pakistan’s policies on Afghan refugees, highlighting the challenges and human rights issues faced by this vulnerable population.

Harassments Faced by Refugees

The treatment of Afghan refugees in Pakistan has been marred by numerous challenges and significant human rights concerns.

What raises further doubts about the intentions of the government is the timing of their decision, which coincides with the onset of winter. This raises questions about the adequacy of measures taken to ensure the well-being and safety of the refugees during this vulnerable period.

Disturbing reports have emerged indicating that even those Afghan refugees possessing valid residence proofs have been subjected to arbitrary detention. Shockingly, the police have been reported to demand bribes in exchange for the release of these individuals, further exacerbating their plight.

In some cities, like Karachi, young boys have been unjustly detained for extended periods, depriving them of their freedom and basic rights.

Furthermore, there have been distressing accounts of refugee camps being vandalized by Pakistani authorities. These acts of vandalism not only inflict physical damage but also undermine the sense of security and stability that refugees seek in such camps.

Additionally, deliberate delays in visa issuance, coupled with difficulties in obtaining essential services like bank accounts and rented accommodations, have left Afghan refugees vulnerable to exploitation and harassment by state authorities.

Such mistreatment and violations of human rights not only contravene international legal standards but also fail to uphold the spirit of compassion and empathy towards those fleeing conflict and persecution.

Contradictions to Non-Refoulement Principle

Pakistan’s decision to arrest and deport individuals residing without proper documents raises questions about its adherence to the principle of non-refoulement.

Although Pakistan is not a signatory to the 1951 Convention Relating to the Status of Refugees and the 1967 Protocol Relating to the Status of Refugees, the principle of non-refoulement applies universally.

This principle prohibits states from expelling refugees, regardless of their status as signatories to the conventions. Pakistan’s actions may be seen as contradictory to this fundamental principle.

Humanitarian Obligations and International Agreements

The humanitarian obligation of Pakistan towards Afghan refugees cannot be overstated, particularly in light of the tripartite agreement it signed with Afghanistan and the UNHCR.

This agreement signifies a commitment to guarantee the safety and well-being of Afghan refugees, ensuring their protection and facilitating their safe return when conditions allow.

However, Pakistan’s recent actions, such as the arrest and deportation of individuals without proper documents, raise serious concerns about the fulfillment of its obligations under international agreements and human rights standards.

By subjecting refugees to harassment, detention, and exploitation, Pakistan not only violates the principles of humanity and compassion but also risks contravening its commitments to providing a safe haven for those fleeing conflict and persecution.

International law, including customary international law, recognizes the fundamental principle of non-refoulement, which prohibits states from returning or expelling refugees to a place where their lives or freedom would be at risk. 

Pakistan Should Reconsider

It is crucial for Pakistan to reconsider its approach to Afghan refugees, taking into account their vulnerability and the principles of non-refoulement.

The government should focus on providing support and assistance to refugees, ensuring their access to basic services, education, and healthcare.

Collaboration with the UNHCR and international partners can help address the challenges faced by Afghan refugees, while also ensuring their safe return and reintegration into their home country.

It is imperative for Pakistan to uphold its humanitarian obligations, collaborate with relevant international organizations, and adopt a more compassionate approach to ensure the safety and well-being of Afghan refugees. By doing so, Pakistan can contribute to regional stability and foster stronger relationships with neighboring countries.

Among the Afghans entering the United States are people with approved SIVs and applicants to the program.

Thousands of Afghans have arrived in the United States since the hurried evacuation of Afghanistan began in mid-August, including many who helped U.S. forces during its 20-year involvement in the country’s war.

Why is the U.S. Military evacuating Afghans?

President Joe Biden said the United States aimed to evacuate 50,000 to 65,000 Afghan allies before an Aug. 31 deadline for U.S. withdrawal.

Biden’s estimate appeared to refer to Afghans who have applied for a humanitarian visa known as a Special Immigrant Visa (SIV), and their family members.

The U.S. government has declined to say how many Afghans have arrived in the United States since the evacuation from Kabul began or the immigration status of those people.

What is the Special Immigrant Visa Program?

SIV’s are available to certain Afghans who aided U.S. forces as interpreters and translators, as well as in other roles, and who fear reprisals by the Taliban, the Islamist militant group that swiftly seized power 11 days ago.

An estimated 5,000 SIV applicants have already been evacuated from Afghanistan, according to a report released on Wednesday by the Association of Wartime Allies, a group advocating for SIV applicants in Afghanistan and Iraq.

The group estimates that 65,000 SIV applicants and family members remain in Afghanistan.

Who are the Afghans arriving in the United States?

U.S. military evacuation flights from Kabul have carried U.S. citizens, lawful permanent residents, Afghan SIV applicants and other vulnerable Afghans, according to the Pentagon.

Among the Afghans entering the United States are people with approved SIVs and applicants to the program.

Other arriving Afghans may seek U.S. asylum or similar forms of relief, advocates say.

Afghans who lack valid immigration status when they arrive in the United States can be permitted to enter for a temporary period via “humanitarian parole.”

The Biden administration has not said how many Afghans have been paroled into the United States, but advocates expect many arrivals will lack visas and require parole.

What happens to Afghans arriving in the United States?

U.S. evacuation flights so far have landed at Dulles International Airport in Virginia.

U.S. citizens and lawful permanent residents can go on to their destinations after they have been tested for COVID-19. SIV-eligible Afghans and other Afghan arrivals go to U.S. military bases in Virginia, Texas, Wisconsin and New Jersey for processing, according to people familiar with the process.

Afghans sent to the military bases receive a health screening and help in applying for work authorization, along with other services. The processing can take anywhere from a day to a week or more, a refugee staffer working at Fort Lee in Virginia told Reuters.

After processing at the military bases, Afghans will be connected with a U.S. refugee resettlement organization, a senior U.S. official said.

The groups provide SIV-eligible Afghans and others with housing, furniture and food, and help them adjust to life in the United States.

Are the arriving Afghans vetted for possible security threats?

Afghans seeking SIVs must complete a 14-step application process that includes a visa interview and security screening.

The Biden administration has said that SIV applicants further along in the application process have been allowed to enter the United States.

Applicants in earlier stages are being sent to third countries, including Qatar, the United Arab Emirates, Bahrain and Germany. In those countries, the Afghans undergo “robust security processing,” the senior administration official said.

“That process involves biometric and biographic security screenings conducted by our intelligence, law enforcement, and counterterrorism professionals who are working quite literally around the clock to vet all of these Afghans before they’re allowed into the United States,” the official said.

The Biden administration has not said what type of vetting would be applied to any Afghans entering the United States who are not applying to the SIV program.

Are U.S. Refugee resettlement groups prepared?

U.S. refugee resettlement organizations typically receive at least two weeks’ notice from the U.S. government or United Nations to prepare for new arrivals, but the hectic evacuation has cut that timeline to days or hours.

The hurried pace forced one refugee group in Texas to turn to emergency housing and petition for vacant Airbnb rental units while others have scrambled to find mattresses and supplies for families.

U.S. refugee groups and immigration advocates have for months urged the Biden administration to quickly evacuate vulnerable Afghans and were frustrated by what they perceived as a lack of urgency before the Taliban took control of Kabul.null

At the same time, the resettlement agencies are rebuilding after former President Donald Trump slashed refugee admissions to the lowest level since the U.S. program began in 1980, forcing the groups to cut staff and close offices.