India did not try to completely control the airspace, and it did not keep up the pressure forever.

The crisis between India and Pakistan in May 2025, which has its lineage to the Pahalgam terror attacks that happened in April 2025, has a lot to say about escalation matrix, post-operation results and most importantly of all, how not to make it a protracted conflict. The Indian side has consistently maintained that it has been swift in its actions and achieved its targets on the first day of the strike.

However, as Pakistan climbed the escalation ladder on the second day, the Indian Armed Forces also upped the stakes. As the world at that time was grappling with protracted conflict from Russia-Ukraine to Israel-Gaza, the international community was fearing there were high chances of India-Pakistan getting into the clutches of prolonged conflict.

In the light of newer evidence, such as the one recently released Swiss Air Power related Think Tank report and as the fog of war is settling, two things remain clear: one, India has achieved what it wanted from those precision strikes; also, it did not up the ante unnecessarily and gave Pakistan an off-ramp as asked by Pakistan once achieving its goals.

What makes Operation Sindoor stand out is not that India attacked Pakistan. In 2019, that limit had already been reached. It’s not even the fact that two air forces are fighting in the air. What makes this episode different is that later revelations slowly broke down the initial story frame, making analysts rethink how escalation happened, how it was handled, and why it ended when it did.

After the air battles on May 7, it seemed like Pakistan had the upper hand because they were faster in media briefings. Early reports were shaped by statements from military officials, along with diagrams and confident briefings. In contrast, India didn’t say much. It didn’t say whether or not it had lost any planes, and it only said again that its strikes were aimed at terrorist infrastructure. This difference was important. Without verified information, initial claims spread quickly.

At that point, many people and different nations saw the crisis in a limited way: Pakistan had struck initially, India had taken the harm, and things had calmed down mostly because both sides were being careful. At the time, that reading wasn’t unreasonable. It wasn’t finished either.

As more information came to light, especially from sources that weren’t directly involved in either side’s story, a different picture began to emerge. A Swiss military think tank that studies air warfare wrote a long report on the war that focused less on claims of individual kills and more on how the air campaign changed over the course of four days. It came to a conclusion that was measured but important.

The report said that the Indian Air Force quickly adapted, weakened parts of Pakistan’s air defence network, and gained air superiority over large areas of Pakistani airspace, even though it acknowledged Pakistan’s early tactical successes. It suggested that this change changed the balance of power and was a big reason why Islamabad asked for a ceasefire by May 10.

At first, that conclusion didn’t get as much attention as it should have, maybe because it didn’t fit into the main story that the media was telling. But over time, a number of admissions that are hard to ignore have made it stronger. One of these times was when Pakistan’s Foreign Minister Ishaq Dar said in public that Indian strikes had hit Nur Khan Air Base. This was not an arbitrary place. Nur Khan is close to Rawalpindi and is closely linked to Pakistan’s air mobility and command infrastructure.

Governments don’t usually want to admit that damage has been done to these kinds of facilities, especially when doing so goes against their earlier claims of strong defence. The admission didn’t say how much damage was done, but it quietly answered a bigger question: Indian strikes had gone far beyond their intended targets.

That recognition also helped make sense of how Pakistan acted diplomatically during the crisis. The US Foreign Agents Registration Act showed that Pakistan asked US officials more than sixty times to step in and stop India’s strikes. These were not one-time actions. They required diplomats and registered lobbyists to stay involved by meeting with each other, calling each other, and writing to each other.

When looked at on its own, this kind of outreach might seem normal. In total, it points to something more urgent: a growing worry that the path of escalation was going too far for Islamabad to handle.

States facing military pressure frequently pursue external stabilisers, especially when nuclear deterrence complicates bilateral signalling. But the size of Pakistan’s outreach does show that they thought that continuing to escalate would be expensive, not just dangerous. In this light, the Swiss assessment’s claim that India had gained coercive leverage through air power starts to look less like a guess.

But the most telling confirmations may have come from actors who usually stay out of official discussions. Hafiz Abdul Rauf, the commander of Lashkar-e-Taiba, said in public that the Indian attack on Muridke was a “very big attack” that destroyed a major training facility.

Masood Ilyas, the commander of Jaish-e-Mohammad, said that their headquarters in Bahawalpur was badly damaged and many people died. These statements didn’t get as much attention over time as military briefings, but they are still important for analysis. Militant groups don’t usually talk about their own losses unless they can’t deny them anymore, even to themselves.

All of these admissions make it harder to believe that Operation Sindoor was mostly a symbol. They imply that the strikes produced significant impacts on infrastructure previously considered to be beneath India’s escalation threshold. More importantly, they made it harder to separate militant activity from the consequences at the state level by blurring the line between non-state actors and the strategic environment that supports them.

It’s interesting how air power was used to make this happen. India did not try to completely control the airspace, and it did not keep up the pressure forever. Instead, it looks like it had a more limited goal: to show that it could get through defended airspace, damage high-value assets, and then stop. This is a different way of escalating things. It sees air superiority as a short-term goal rather than a long-term one. In places where escalation ladders are short and nuclear signalling is always there, this kind of time is important.

From Pakistan’s point of view, the maths got harder and harder. Success in air-to-air combat did not protect infrastructure from being weak. Early narrative advantage didn’t stop later revelations from changing how people thought. By May 10, the costs of continuing the fight, especially with some Indian air superiority, probably outweighed the benefits of keeping it going.

At that point, asking for a ceasefire kept escalation under control and limited the further exposure of important assets. This has detrimental implications for South Asia. Nuclear deterrence still stops full-scale war, but it no longer protects you from heavy conventional pressure.

Denial strategies are still useful in the short term, but they are becoming less effective as more and more open-source intelligence, regulatory transparency, and delayed admissions become available. And the space for managing escalation through proxies seems to be getting smaller as infrastructure that was once off-limits becomes more and more contested.

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

Pakistan now stands at a critical juncture. It can continue to treat Afghanistan as a battleground, striking across the border and relying on force to push back the militants.

For over four decades, Pakistan bet its security strategy on one idea: that Afghanistan could be controlled and turned into a “strategic depth” against India. The military and political elite in Islamabad treated Kabul as a buffer and a playground — a state to be manipulated through compliant regimes and proxy jihadist groups.

Militant networks were nurtured as instruments of foreign policy, and Pakistan believed this would secure influence across the region and check India’s power. Instead, the very forces Islamabad once empowered have turned against it. In 2025, the grand doctrine of strategic depth lies in ruins — a self-inflicted disaster now driving Pakistan’s worst security crisis in years.

Rather than securing Pakistan, Afghanistan has become the epicentre of the very dangers Islamabad once believed it could manage or manipulate. What was once perceived as an asset has now become a trap. The transformation of Afghanistan from strategic depth to strategic liability has unfolded gradually, but the past two years have made the shift undeniable.

When the Taliban returned to power in Kabul in 2021, Pakistan was widely seen as the external actor poised to benefit the most. Many within Islamabad believed that a Taliban government, because of historical ties, would be cooperative, deferential, and dependent. But that assumption now looks dangerously misplaced.

The Taliban’s political priorities have changed, their sources of external support have diversified, and their internal legitimacy depends on projecting a strong, independent stance — especially against Pakistan, which many ordinary Afghans still view with suspicion. Instead of shaping Afghan behaviour, Pakistan now finds itself confronting a volatile neighbour whose rulers no longer feel obliged to accommodate Pakistani interests.

Militant Blowback and a Hardening Border

Nowhere is this reversal clearer than in the surge of militant activity targeting Pakistan from Afghan soil. Over the past year, Pakistan has experienced a marked increase in terrorist attacks carried out by the Tehreek-i-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) and associated networks. Security reports from 2024 and 2025 indicated that many attackers either crossed over from Afghanistan or were trained and sheltered there.

Pakistani officials have repeatedly stated that a significant percentage of suicide bombers involved in major attacks were Afghan nationals. The data, while varying between sources, consistently shows a dangerous trend that the Afghanistan-Pakistan border has become increasingly porous to extremist infiltration, and many of these groups feel emboldened by their close ideological ties to the Afghan Taliban.

This is the central irony of Pakistan’s predicament. The militant ecosystem that Islamabad once supported for regional leverage has now splintered in ways that work against Pakistan itself. The TTP, originally an offshoot of groups nurtured under earlier Afghan policies, now treats Pakistan as its primary enemy.

Pakistan’s own creation has turned against its creator. The militancy that Islamabad once believed could be contained beyond its borders has now penetrated deep inside — striking security convoys, police units, and civilian targets with growing regularity. The blowback is undeniable.

In response, Pakistan has increasingly resorted to military actions along — and across — the Afghan border. Throughout 2024 and into 2025, Pakistan conducted a series of cross-border artillery strikes and air raids targeting what it described as TTP safe havens. In several cases, those strikes hit areas inside Afghanistan, killing not only militants but also civilians, including women and children. These incidents have sharply escalated diplomatic tensions.

Kabul has issued multiple condemnations, arguing that Pakistan is violating Afghan sovereignty and inflaming anti-Pakistan sentiment among the Afghan population. What Islamabad once framed as necessary counterterror operations are now seen by many Afghans as external aggression, deepening hostility that already runs high.

Border clashes have also intensified. In late 2024 and through out 2025, firefights between Pakistani forces and Taliban border units became frequent, sometimes lasting hours. Pakistani officials reported significant casualties on their side, and Afghan authorities claimed similar losses.

The AfPak border — once envisioned as a controllable frontier from which Pakistan could extend influence — has hardened into one of the most militarized and unstable fault lines in South Asia. Instead of projecting strength, Pakistan finds itself in a defensive posture, its troops stretched and its internal security architecture under strain.

Diminishing Diplomatic Leverage and Growing Vulnerability

Diplomacy has not eased the tensions. Attempts at negotiation, including several rounds of high-level talks in 2024 and 2025, produced only limited agreements focused on border management and intelligence sharing. These arrangements have struggled to translate into real cooperation on the ground. The Taliban government maintains that it does not control the TTP, insisting that the group operates independently.

Pakistani officials reject that claim, arguing that nothing of significance can operate in Afghanistan without at least tacit Taliban approval. The resulting stalemate has left both countries locked in a cycle of accusation and retaliation.

Pakistan’s broader regional standing has also been affected. The international community has expressed growing concern about the escalating border violence, with several countries calling for restraint and renewed dialogue. Islamabad, once positioned as a key interlocutor between the Taliban and the West, now finds its diplomatic leverage diminished.

Meanwhile, the Taliban have sought new partnerships — particularly with regional powers seeking economic or strategic opportunities in Afghanistan. This reduces Pakistan’s ability to shape events in Kabul and signals a fundamental shift in the balance of influence.

The implications for Pakistan’s internal security are profound. The resurgence of terrorism within its borders has strained provincial administrations, especially in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa and Balochistan. Police forces remain under-equipped, despite repeated calls for better resources. Public frustration is rising, particularly as attacks occur with worrying frequency.

Many citizens question the effectiveness of Pakistan’s long-standing policies toward Afghanistan and ask whether the sacrifices of the past two decades — military operations, casualties, and massive financial costs — have led to greater safety or merely deeper vulnerability.

The broader economic situation compounds the crisis. Pakistan’s financial struggles, including high inflation, energy shortages, and slow GDP growth, make it increasingly difficult to sustain prolonged military readiness along a volatile border. The costs of counterinsurgency operations, refugees’ management, and security infrastructure rise steadily even as state revenues remain limited.

Meanwhile, Afghanistan shows no sign of curbing the groups hostile to Pakistan. This asymmetry — a costly security burden with no cooperative counterpart in Kabul — underscores how Pakistan’s strategic depth has morphed into a strategic trap.

A Strategic Concept in Collapse

Yet the most troubling dimension of this trap is conceptual. Pakistan’s Afghan policy relied on assumptions that no longer hold: that Kabul could be influenced through patronage that militant groups could be calibrated for strategic use, and that Afghanistan’s internal dynamics would remain subordinate to Pakistani interests. The reality of 2025 contradicts each of these assumptions.

The Taliban now make decisions independently. Militant groups have become ideological actors rather than controllable proxies. Afghan nationalism, sharpened by decades of conflict, rejects external interference from any quarter — especially from Pakistan. The strategic logic underpinning decades of policy has evaporated, but its consequences persist.

Pakistan now stands at a critical juncture. It can continue to treat Afghanistan as a battleground, striking across the border and relying on force to push back the militants. But this would deepen the cycle of violence, alienating Afghan society further, and entrenching hostile networks.

Alternatively, Pakistan could pursue a significant recalibration — acknowledging the limits of influence, dismantling the remnants of proxy structures, and treating Afghanistan as a sovereign neighbour rather than a proxy regime. Such a shift would require political courage and institutional consensus, both of which have historically been fragile when it comes to Pakistan. But without such a rethinking, Pakistan risks sinking deeper into the trap of its own making.

The strategic depth that Islamabad long prized has become an illusion. Afghanistan is no longer a pliable sphere of influence but a source of hostility capable of undermining Pakistan’s security from within. The militants once cultivated as assets have become liabilities. The border once seen as a shield has become a wound. Pakistan’s Afghan dilemma is no longer about losing influence; it is about preventing the fallout from a potent threat to its own stability.

The question facing Pakistan in 2025 is not whether Afghanistan can be controlled but whether Pakistan can escape the strategic trap created by decades of miscalculation. Whether it will recalibrate before the trap tightens further is a question that will impact the region’s future also.

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

What Pakistan has surrendered in return is the institutional balance that once provided guardrails against rash escalation.

In Islamabad, history did not turn with a coup or a populist uprising — it changed quietly, with the stroke of a pen. When Pakistan passed its 27th Constitutional Amendment, there were no tanks in the streets, no suspended parliament broadcasts, no dramatic late-night speeches. The move was subtle, almost procedural. Yet, behind its legal language lies the most significant expansion of military authority in the country’s modern history.

While framed as a necessary reform to strengthen national security, the amendment fundamentally restructures Pakistan’s governance model by granting Field Marshal Asim Munir unprecedented authority over the state, the military, and—most critically—Pakistan’s nuclear arsenal.

The legal elevation of Pakistan’s de facto ruler into a constitutionally untouchable position marks a turning point for a country whose political system has long been undermined by military dominance. Now, that dominance is not just entrenched—it is formalized.

The Amendment That Institutionalizes Military Rule

The 27th Amendment establishes a new position, the Chief of Defense Forces (CDF), which consolidates command over the Army, Navy, and Air Force under Munir’s sole leadership. In doing so, it effectively eliminates the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Committee, the single institution responsible for balancing power across Pakistan’s tri-services.

Even more consequentially, the amendment grants lifetime immunity to five-star officers, placing Munir and future CDFs beyond legal accountability for both military and political decisions. Whereas past military rulers seized power through coups, Munir now commands Pakistan through the constitution itself.

Civilian leaders may occupy government buildings, but the reins of the state security, foreign policy, and strategic decision-making firmly rest with Pakistan’s most powerful general. Seizing power through the 27^th Amendment serves two purposes for Munir. He gets to be the de facto leader of Pakistan’s civil-military regime under law, a privilege previous military dictators did not have, and secondly, Munir gets to save his face, standing up to the reputation of a “legitimate” leader, with whom foreign leaders would not hesitate to engage directly. 

A New Nuclear Command: First country to have a military leader in command of nuclear weapons

Perhaps the most profound shift concerns nuclear oversight. The amendment introduces the position of Commander of the National Strategic Command (CNSC), a role directly under the CDF and responsible for all operational control of Pakistan’s nuclear arsenal. Previously, the nuclear launch authority sat within the National Command Authority, where both civilian and military leadership helped maintain a system of shared judgment.

Now, Munir commands the only finger on the button that matters.

This change shortens the chain of command in nuclear decision-making—something Pakistan justifies as necessary for deterrence against India. But a faster chain of command also reduces the time available for deliberation during crises, magnifying the risk of miscalculation. Moreover, placing nuclear authority solely under the Army eliminates institutional checks that are vital in a region marked by frequent militarized crises.

Such a move makes Pakistan the only nuclear country in the world where the sole command to authorize a strike rests with a military officer. Experts have historically warned that centralizing nuclear authority to a single military office poses serious dangers of weakened political oversight and increased risk of misperception and escalation. 

Can Military Centralization Fix Domestic Instability?

Supporters argue that stronger centralized command is essential to confront Pakistan’s rapidly deteriorating internal security environment. Over 1,000 Pakistanis have been killed in terrorist incidents this year, as the Tehrik-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP), among other militant organizations, regain operational reach and recruits.

Simultaneously, Baloch separatists have intensified attacks against Chinese personnel and critical infrastructure—a trend that threatens Pakistan’s major economic partnerships. Munir’s response has focused not on reforming intelligence agencies or reforming counterinsurgency policies but on kinetic pressure: cross-border missile strikes into Afghanistan, collective punishment in tribal districts, and crackdowns on political dissent framed as counterterrorism.

These operations have failed to reduce militant capabilities. Instead, they have deepened local resentment and produced blowback in the form of increased militant recruitment.

The 27th Amendment gives Munir even more control over internal security, but it does not equip Pakistan with the governance tools needed to address the political grievances driving these insurgencies. Military rule may offer speed and force, but it cannot deliver legitimacy—or peace—on its own.

India’s Deterrence Calculus Has Already Shifted

For decades, Pakistan’s nuclear signaling deterred India from responding militarily to Pakistan-based militant attacks. That strategic reality has changed as India’s ground and air operations over the past decade demonstrate a willingness to escalate even under the shadow of nuclear weapons.

Pakistan’s low-threshold nuclear doctrine—threatening early first use if India attempts even limited operations—has therefore lost credibility in New Delhi.

Munir’s control over nuclear forces may accelerate crisis escalation rather than prevent it. With fewer voices involved in decision-making and a nuclear doctrine that encourages rapid activation, India may find itself forced to preempt or retaliate quickly in a future confrontation.

And in a region where crises often begin with terrorist attacks, Pakistan claims no responsibility for; the risk of miscalculation is not theoretical—it is imminent. As I have recently warned in my analysis for the Bulletin of Atomic Scientists, a terror strike in New Delhi or Kashmir could rapidly transform into a conventional conflict fought under nuclear constraints, which neither state has truly tested.

Conclusion: The Strategic Cost of Militarized Stability

Pakistan’s leaders may believe that empowering the military is the only path to stability, especially amid political turbulence and economic crisis. But this amendment represents a paradox: a move justified in the name of security that may, in practice, make Pakistan—and the region—less secure.

Civilian authority is weakened, nuclear oversight is narrowed, internal grievances are unaddressed, and India’s evolving military posture further undermines Pakistan’s deterrent signaling. Munir now has the authority he has long operated with in practice. What Pakistan has surrendered in return is the institutional balance that once provided guardrails against rash escalation.

Pakistan is now a nuclear-armed country confronted by resurgent insurgencies, political instability, and hostile borders—yet governed by a security model that empowers one military commander with unchecked authority. The 27th Amendment does not strengthen Pakistan’s democracy or make nuclear war less likely. It does the opposite: it increases the speed of decision-making while decreasing the diversity of voices shaping those decisions.

As Pakistan enters this new era of legally sanctioned military supremacy, regional stability hinges on the judgment of a single leader commanding a nuclear arsenal built on a doctrine of early use. For a country defined by volatility, the future now balances on the narrowest margin imaginable.

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

A return to the zero-sum mentality that dominated earlier epochs — where Kabul was binary: allied or hostile — will not suffice.

For decades Islamabad regarded Afghanistan as a strategic depth and a zone of influence — a buffer to be shaped, not simply neighboured. That assumption has been upended. What was once a relationship of patronage and leverage has become a volatile adversarial space in which Pakistan’s ability to shape outcomes is eroding fast.

The proximate causes are familiar: the Tehrik-e-Taliban Pakistan’s (TTP) resurgence, the Afghan Taliban’s evolving priorities, and renewed regional manoeuvring — but the deeper story is institutional: Pakistan’s coercive and diplomatic instruments have less purchase in Kabul than they did a decade ago, and the result is a dangerous ambiguity for peace along a porous frontier.

The unraveling of influence

Pakistan’s influence was built on long-term ties with elements of the Afghan insurgency, cross-border sanctuaries for proxies and a security apparatus that assumed it could cajole Kabul.

After the Afghan Taliban’s return to power in 2021 Islamabad briefly believed those ties would translate into control over insurgent groups that threaten Pakistan’s internal security, especially the TTP. That belief has been proven increasingly fragile.

Since 2023 and into 2024–25, the TTP has consolidated, carrying out a wave of attacks inside Pakistan and openly operating from Afghan territory, according to Pakistani officials and independent monitors — a reality Islamabad blames on Kabul’s unwillingness or inability to rein in militants.

The rhetoric has hardened into kinetic confrontation. October and November 2025 saw some of the deadliest border clashes since 2021, with both sides trading heavy accusations of cross-border strikes and of harbouring militants.

Pakistan’s military leadership framed the dispute in stark terms: peace depends on the Taliban preventing attacks originating on Afghan soil — an implicit admission that Islamabad’s old levers of influence are no longer decisive.

Kabul, for its part, denies institutional complicity while insisting it is a sovereign government contending with its own domestic pressures and complex local actors.

Analysts have been blunt. “Pakistan misread the Taliban and lost peace on the frontier,” wrote commentators after a string of confrontations, arguing Islamabad had underestimated the Afghan leadership’s need to assert independence from Islamabad and to cultivate alternative patrons and legitimacy.

The practical consequence is a loss of predictive power: Islamabad cannot reliably forecast which militant actors Kabul will tolerate or contest, and therefore cannot control the border dynamics that have long defined its security calculus.

New players, old grievances

The decline of unilateral influence does not mean Pakistan has been entirely sidelined; rather, the relationship has been recalibrated amid a broader regional realignment.

China and Turkey have moved to mediate and cajole, economic corridors and diplomatic initiatives have proliferated, and even India has quietly sought to re-engage with Kabul, reopening channels that complicate Islamabad’s calculations.

These shifts give the Afghan Taliban alternatives for diplomatic engagement and economic cooperation that do not depend on Pakistan’s patronage.

Inside Pakistan, the domestic politics of counter-terrorism and the resurging profile of the Pakistani Taliban have also altered official thinking. Policymakers face a grim choice: assertive military options across the border that risk escalation and international censure, or a patient diplomatic strategy that depends on a Kabul willing and able to act.

The ambiguity has produced episodic violence rather than a durable settlement; ceasefires have been brokered and violated, and confidence-building measures are fragile. Observers note that Islamabad’s traditional tools — patronage networks, cross-border pressure and economic inducements — are necessary but not sufficient to resolve the multi-layered conflicts now playing out.

The human cost is immediate. Civilians on both sides of the Durand Line have borne the brunt of the violence: displacement, disrupted trade and a renewal of mistrust that undercuts any long-term reconciliation.

The border is not simply a line on a map; it is a lived geography of interdependence and grievance. As violence spikes, international actors — from Qatar and Turkey to regional capitals — are scrambling to re-establish mediation channels even as the ground reality resists neat diplomatic fixes.

What comes next

If Pakistan’s grip is slipping, the strategic implication is that South Asia’s security architecture must be rethought. A return to the zero-sum mentality that dominated earlier epochs — where Kabul was binary: allied or hostile — will not suffice.

Instead, any viable approach must accept multiplicity: a Taliban government with agency, non-state militant actors with transnational reach and regional powers willing to assert influence through economic and diplomatic means. This requires Pakistan to invest in multilateral mechanisms, to deepen intelligence and law-enforcement cooperation that respects Afghan sovereignty, and to concede that punitive cross-border strikes are not a sustainable substitute for political solutions.

The stakes transcend bilateral rivalry. A durable peace on the frontier matters to refugee flows, counter-terrorism, narcotics trafficking and the broader stability of a region that is again the focus of great-power competition.

If Islamabad wants to protect its core security interests it must adapt to an Afghan polity that no longer responds predictably to old incentives. That adaptation will be neither quick nor comfortable, but it is necessary: failing to do so will leave both countries mired in a costly oscillation of strikes, reprisals and diplomatic ruptures that benefits no one.

As one regional analyst put it, the old script for influence has been burned; the question for Pakistan is whether it can write a new, more cooperative one before the next conflagration.

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

According to a statement from Qatar’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs early Sunday, the two South Asian nations committed not only to a halt in hostilities but also to “the establishment of mechanisms to consolidate lasting peace and stability between the two countries”.

They further affirmed that follow-up meetings will be held in the coming days “to ensure the sustainability of the cease-fire and verify its implementation in a reliable and sustainable manner”.

Pakistan’s Deputy Prime Minister and Foreign Minister, Ishaq Dar, welcomed the accord as “a first step in the right direction”.

Posting on X, he expressed appreciation for the “constructive role played by brotherly Qatar and Türkiye”. He also flagged the next meeting to be hosted by Türkiye, underlining the need for “a concrete and verifiable monitoring mechanism … to address the menace of terrorism emanating from Afghan soil towards Pakistan”.

He added: “It is important to put all efforts in place to prevent any further loss of lives.”

Earlier, both Islamabad and Kabul held talks in Doha on Saturday after the worst violence between the neighbours since the Taliban takeover of Afghanistan in 2021.

According to Afghan government spokesperson Zabihullah Mujahid, negotiations took place in Doha with Kabul’s team led by Defence Minister Mullah Muhammad Yaqoob. Meanwhile Pakistan’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs confirmed its Defence Minister Khawaja Muhammad Asif led discussions with Taliban leadership.

The cross-border flare-up was triggered by Pakistan’s demand that Afghanistan rein in insurgent groups accused of staging increasingly frequent attacks on Pakistani territory—and which Islamabad says operate from safe havens inside Afghan soil.

The Taliban government denies harbouring armed groups for attacks on Pakistan, instead accusing Islamabad of misinformation, and of sheltering ISIL-linked militants undermining Afghan sovereignty.

On Friday, a suicide bomb near the border killed seven Pakistani soldiers and wounded 13 others, according to security officials. Pakistan’s Army Chief, Asim Munir, warned on Saturday that “the Afghan regime must rein in the proxies who have sanctuaries in Afghanistan and are using Afghan soil to perpetrate heinous attacks inside Pakistan.”

While the cease-fire agreement marks a positive step, analysts caution that the true test will lie in sustained verification, cross-border monitoring and addressing deep-rooted mistrust. Establishing a credible mechanism to monitor adherence and respond promptly to violations will be crucial if peace is to hold.

The four-day exercise, named “Cold Start”, is scheduled for early October and will bring together military personnel, defence industry experts, and researchers to test India’s drone capabilities and counter-UAS systems. Air Marshal Rakesh Sinha, Deputy Chief of the Integrated Defence Staff, stated that the drills will help make India’s air defence infrastructure “completely robust” against aerial threats.

The exercise reflects a broader regional trend. Analysts describe South Asia as experiencing a drone arms race, with both India and Pakistan rapidly expanding their drone and counter-drone capabilities. India is also accelerating development of an indigenous air defence system, called “Sudarshan Chakra”, which officials compare to Israel’s famous Iron Dome.

According to Air Marshal Ashutosh Dixit, Chief of the Integrated Defence Staff, the Sudarshan Chakra system will integrate drones, counter-drone technologies, aircraft, and counter-hypersonic measures to create a layered and sophisticated defence network. “Pakistan is also advancing its capabilities, so we must stay ahead,” Dixit noted.

The upcoming exercise is considered the largest domestic drone drill in India since the May conflict with Pakistan. It will simulate scenarios from past drone engagements and test India’s ability to detect, intercept, and neutralize unmanned aerial threats. Defence analysts say the exercise demonstrates India’s commitment to modernizing its military technology and maintaining a strategic edge in South Asia’s evolving security environment.

As drone warfare becomes increasingly central to modern military operations, the Cold Start exercise underscores India’s push to develop indigenous technology while enhancing cooperation between its armed forces and defence industry. International observers are closely watching the drills, noting their potential implications for regional stability and future drone defence strategies.

The call, placed at President Trump’s request, comes amid heightened tensions between India and Pakistan following a major terror attack in Jammu & Kashmir’s Pahalgam region on April 22. Expressing condolences, Trump reiterated America’s support for India’s fight against terrorism — a sentiment welcomed by New Delhi as India continues its military operation, codenamed Operation Sindoor.

During the conversation, Prime Minister Modi provided a detailed account of India’s calibrated strikes on Pakistani terror camps and military positions conducted on the nights of May 6–7 and May 9–10. These operations, Modi emphasized, were “measured, precise, and non-escalatory”, yet effective enough to force Pakistan to request a cessation of hostilities.

Crucially, Modi made it clear that India regards this conflict not as a proxy war, but as a full-fledged confrontation against a terrorism-exporting state. “India does not and will never accept mediation,” he told President Trump, firmly dismissing any suggestion of third-party involvement or backdoor diplomacy — a position reflecting strong national consensus within India.

Trump reportedly inquired whether Modi could visit the U.S. on his way back from Canada, but scheduling constraints made such a stop unfeasible. However, both leaders agreed to reschedule a bilateral meeting soon.

The call also touched upon pressing global flashpoints, notably the Iran-Israel standoff. Modi and Trump shared serious concerns over Tehran’s destabilizing activities in the region. The leaders also reviewed developments in the Russia-Ukraine war, advocating for diplomacy but with clarity on red lines.

Turning toward the Indo-Pacific, Modi reiterated India’s strong commitment to the QUAD alliance, inviting Trump to visit India for the next QUAD Summit. Trump welcomed the invitation, reaffirming the importance of U.S.-India partnership in maintaining regional balance and confronting shared security challenges.

This conversation marked the first formal engagement between the two leaders following the terror attacks, and it signals a growing alignment between New Delhi and Washington on counter-terrorism, strategic deterrence, and geopolitical stability.

While the discussion was initially intended to focus on another topic, Patel chose to address the question head-on. “It’s a sensitive subject,” he acknowledged, “but I want to frankly put forward my view. Because of recent events and the buzz on social media, this discussion has become necessary.”

Patel’s response was not politically driven, but deeply rooted in Islamic ethics and Sharia principles. His critique centered not on the people of Pakistan, but on what he described as a dangerous contradiction: the open and tolerated presence of armed terror groups within the country’s borders.

“Think for yourself — Pakistan is a country where terror groups openly exist,” he said. “It may not be officially legal, but their existence is not hidden.”

From a Sharia perspective, Patel reminded listeners that such realities are alarming. Islamic scholars across the world have issued fatwas—legal verdicts—categorically opposing the existence of independent armed militias operating outside the state’s control. “Even if what these groups do is set aside for a moment,” he said, “their very existence is a problem.”

Zaid Patel emphasized that such groups, while claiming to operate in the name of Islam, have in fact brought grave damage to the image of the religion globally. “These groups carry out violence, including attacks on civilians, and claim it as jihad. But their actions have no basis in the Quran or the Sunnah,” he noted.

In a powerful and emotional moment, Patel turned the spotlight on the consequences faced by Indian Muslims.

“We Indian Muslims suffer because of this exported extremism. The extremism increasing in India also has roots in this external influence,” he said.

According to Patel, these groups have not only harmed Muslims in Pakistan but have also created ripple effects across the region. Their activities have given fuel to anti-Muslim narratives, sowing suspicion and hostility toward peace-loving Muslims, especially in India.

“Have you ever seen a terror group condemn an attack, saying it was wrong?” Patel asked. “Instead, even if they didn’t do it, they behave as if they want credit for it. That’s the dangerous mentality that is spreading in public spaces.”

This dual failure—both moral and political—has led to what he calls “a double policy.” On paper, Pakistan adheres to international treaties and obligations. But in practice, these groups operate with shocking impunity. “There’s ample proof that they operate with legal and logistical freedom,” Patel said. “When the whole world knows about them, how can we pretend otherwise?”

His message was particularly resonant for Indian Muslims, who often find themselves caught in the crossfire—both metaphorically and socially. “We bear the consequences both internally and externally,” he lamented. “Terrorism is being used as a proxy war in the name of Islam, and all of us suffer because of it.”

Ending his statement with clarity and compassion, Zaid Patel reiterated that Islam offers no room for such armed militancy. “A Muslim country should not allow independent armed groups to exist. There is no justification for it in the Quran or Hadith. Their actions harm Islam and Muslims worldwide.”

In an age of noise and half-truths, Patel’s forthright response stood out—not just for its honesty, but for its deep concern for the well-being of Indian Muslims and the sanctity of Islamic teachings. It was less a political answer and more a moral plea: for accountability, for clarity, and above all, for peace.

The discussion, which focused on Pakistan’s role as a global hub for jihadist activities, shed light on the historical, geopolitical, and ideological factors enabling this menace and explored strategies to counter its spread.

Pakistan: The Epicenter of Global Terror

Dr. Chaulia opened the episode by framing Pakistan as “Terroristan,” a nation that has become a global menace due to its long-standing habit of nurturing terrorism. Highlighting India’s recent military operation, Operation Sindoor, which destroyed nine terrorist training camps in Pakistan using precision-guided munitions, he emphasized the operation’s dual role as a military strike and a global exposé of Pakistan’s terrorist infrastructure.

“The scale of destruction and the videos of funerals and smashed buildings showed the extent of the problem festering in that country,” Chaulia noted, setting the stage for a deep dive into why Pakistan has become the epicenter of global terror.

Zahack Tanvir, introduced as a peace activist and director of Milli Chronicle, a platform dedicated to monitoring jihadist propaganda, provided a comprehensive historical perspective. He traced Pakistan’s trajectory back to its founding in 1946 by Muhammad Ali Jinnah, noting that the country was established on religious bigotry rather than ethnicity or language.

“Pakistan was called the Islamic Republic of Pakistan, purely based on religious identity,” Tanvir explained. He pointed to key historical moments, including the 1979 Iranian Revolution, which emboldened Islamists globally, and the 1980s Afghan jihad against the Soviets, during which Pakistan became a hub for global mujahideen, supported by the United States and Gulf countries.

Tanvir highlighted how Pakistan redirected these militias toward Kashmir after the Soviet conflict, with groups like Jaish-e-Mohammed and Lashkar-e-Taiba wreaking havoc. “Pakistan has a history of nurturing militancy,” he asserted, citing its footprints in major terrorist attacks, including 9/11, the 2008 Mumbai attacks, and the recent Pulwama and Pahalgam attacks.

He also referenced the discovery of Osama bin Laden in Pakistan and admissions by Pakistan’s defense minister about funding terrorists on behalf of Western powers.

The Role of ISI and Radical Madrassas

Tanvir identified four key factors sustaining Pakistan’s terrorist ecosystem. First, the Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI) has extensive experience training not only Kashmiri insurgents but also Chechen, Bosnian, and Taliban fighters, including the Haqqani network. “ISI sustains this whole ecosystem,” he said, noting Pakistan’s policy of “bleeding India with a thousand cuts” as revenge for the 1971 Bangladesh liberation war.

Second, he pointed to the role of radical madrassas in Pakistan, where impoverished and illiterate youth are recruited and given military training, unlike madrassas in India, which do not engage in such activities.

Tanvir shared an anecdote from his interactions with Pakistanis from Peshawar and Waziristan, describing their extreme illiteracy and vulnerability to exploitation by groups like Jaish-e-Mohammed, backed by the state and ISI.

Third, Pakistan’s strategic location, sharing borders with Afghanistan and the Line of Control, facilitates the smuggling of drugs and weapons into India. Tanvir recounted his 2023 visit to the Suchetgarh border, where India uncovered and sealed tunnels used by Pakistan for smuggling.

Finally, he addressed the role of foreign powers, particularly the United States, which historically financed and armed jihadist groups via Pakistan, and China, which has turned a blind eye to Pakistan’s jihadist activities to counter India.

“China vetoed UN sanctions against Jaish-e-Mohammed’s Masood Azhar until 2019,” Tanvir noted, highlighting China’s strategic support for Pakistan’s military capabilities, including supplying drones and bombs.

Complicity of Regional Powers

The discussion also explored the role of regional powers like Turkey, Azerbaijan, and Malaysia in enabling Pakistan’s jihadist agenda. Tanvir explained that Turkey’s support is driven by its ambition to revive an Ottoman-style caliphate, with initiatives like training Pakistan’s Dolphin police unit and promoting propaganda through dramas like Ertugrul, which was broadcast on Pakistan’s national television in 2020.

Azerbaijan’s support, though less pronounced, stems from Pakistan’s backing during the Nagorno-Karabakh conflict against Armenia, influenced by Turkey and Israel.

Dr. Chaulia emphasized the need to “name and shame” these countries for indirectly sponsoring terrorism by supporting Pakistan. He noted that 81% of Pakistan’s military imports over the past five years have come from China, with Turkey supplying offensive weapons, including drones used against India post-Operation Sindoor.

Countering the Jihadist Narrative

A significant portion of the discussion focused on countering the jihadist ideology propagated by Pakistan, which thrives on a victimhood narrative claiming that Muslims are persecuted and must fight to defend Islam.

Tanvir debunked this narrative, contrasting the treatment of minorities in Pakistan and India. “In 1946, Hindus made up 30% of Pakistan’s population; now they have vanished,” he said, noting the dwindling Christian minority as well. In contrast, India’s Muslim population has grown from 9% to 15-18%, with diverse Muslim sects enjoying freedom to practice their faith.

Tanvir, a proud Muslim, emphasized that Indian Muslims are safe and thriving, with the ability to travel freely from Kashmir to Kanyakumari. He contrasted this with Pakistan, where ethnic groups like Pashtuns and Punjabis face restrictions, and celebratory gunfire with AK-47s during events like Eid or cricket matches often leads to civilian casualties.

“Indian Muslims are educated and respected globally as engineers, doctors, and AI experts,” he said, lamenting the lack of such recognition for Pakistani Muslims.

To counter Pakistan’s propaganda, Tanvir advocated amplifying the voices of Indian Muslims who refute claims of persecution. He cited instances where Indian Muslims, including himself, used social media to challenge false narratives propagated by figures like UK-based Islamist Mohammed Hijab, who urged Indian Muslims to support Pakistan.

“Indian Muslims came forward and said, ‘We are safe, and your narrative is not true,’” Tanvir recounted.

A Call for Global Action

Dr. Chaulia concluded the episode by underscoring that Pakistan’s use of religion for geopolitical gain, driven by its military and clerical establishment, is the root of its “Terroristan” status. He praised India’s military response but stressed the need for a broader ideological struggle to win the hearts and minds of young people, particularly moderate Muslims.

“The voices of moderate Muslims from India must show that faith and nationalism can coexist,” he said, rejecting Pakistan’s “fake nationalism” based on hatred and violence.

Tanvir’s appearance on Doordarshan was hailed as a significant moment for raising global awareness about Pakistan’s role in terrorism. “His courageous work with Milli Chronicle, often at personal risk”, was lauded by Dr. Chaulia, who thanked him for his insights and activism.

As the episode wrapped up, Chaulia called for concerted action by like-minded countries and social movements to wage a “long counter-jihad” in the ideological sphere.

“This is not a clash of civilizations but a challenge to show that Muslims and non-Muslims can coexist,” he said, urging a generational transformation to dismantle Pakistan’s jihadist mentality.

The discussion, broadcast on India’s national television, underscored the urgency of addressing Pakistan’s role as a global terror hub and highlighted the pivotal role of informed voices like Zahack Tanvir in shaping a counternarrative to foster peace and coexistence.

The Pakistani military had launched missiles and drones aimed at at least 15 Indian cities, including Jammu, Jaisalmer, and Pathankot. However, India’s robust defense apparatus, including the S-400 missile system and advanced drone countermeasures, successfully intercepted the threats, averting significant damage or casualties.

As a defensive measure, blackouts were imposed in key Indian border cities—Srinagar, Jammu, Rajouri, Amritsar, Jalandhar, and Bhuj—to prevent visibility to enemy drones and safeguard civilians.

In a calibrated response, India deployed kamikaze drones and neutralized a Pakistani air defense system in Lahore, striking deep within Pakistani territory. Other military targets, including air defense radars in Sialkot and Islamabad, were also engaged.

The Indian Ministry of Defence confirmed, “In response to an unprovoked and unsuccessful attack by the Pakistani military, our armed forces have taken precise and measured action to ensure deterrence and defense.”

The confrontation follows Wednesday’s Operation Sindoor, during which India struck nine high-value terror targets across Pakistan and Pakistan-occupied Kashmir (PoK), including in Bahawalpur, a known hub for the Jaish-e-Mohammad (JeM) terror group. The operation was carried out after a brutal terror attack in Pahalgam killed Indian security personnel and civilians.

Pakistan, for its part, resorted to ceasefire violations along the Line of Control (LoC) in Jammu & Kashmir—a familiar escalation tactic—but Indian border forces responded swiftly and effectively to protect civilian populations.

Analysts warn that while India’s response remains tactical and targeted, the situation remains volatile.

“There is clearly a shift in India’s posture,” said a regional security analyst. “The Indian government is signaling that attacks on its soil will not go unanswered.”

As night fell across the subcontinent, both sides remained on high alert. Yet the scars of recent violence, especially the Pahalgam attack, remain fresh—fueling public support in India for a firm and decisive response.

Whether this marks a turning point in Indo-Pak relations or a dangerous step toward broader conflict, one thing is certain: the region stands at a fragile crossroads, with diplomacy and restraint now more critical than ever.