By Aziz Amin and Atif Mashal/The Diplomat

Kabul, November 4 – For the first time, Kabul has come under aerial attack not by a superpower, but by its neighbor, Pakistan. In early October, Pakistani fighter jets struck Afghan territory, including Kabul, Kandahar, and Paktika, claiming to target militants from Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP). In reality, the strikes killed civilians, among them women, children, and three young cricketers. It prompted Kabul to condemn the attack as a blatant violation of national sovereignty and to launch retaliatory attacks that killed 58 Pakistani soldiers.

The irony is unmistakable. A country that once portrayed itself as a sanctuary for Afghan refugees fleeing foreign invasions has now assumed the role of aggressor. For Islamabad’s military establishment, these strikes were meant to project strength. Yet they revealed fragility – a state increasingly trapped in the consequences of its own strategic contradictions.

Mirage of Strength

The Pakistani military’s approach reflects a familiar pattern: projecting external aggression to mask internal disarray. For decades, generals in Rawalpindi have externalized domestic insecurity, blaming instability on Kabul, New Delhi, or Western conspiracies. But the truth lies closer to home. The TTP, which Pakistan now seeks to eliminate through airstrikes and cross-Durand Line operations, is not an imported menace. It is the by-product of Islamabad’s own long-standing policy of nurturing militant networks as instruments of regional influence.

Groups once described as “strategic assets” and “good Taliban” have metastasized into uncontrollable insurgencies that now threaten Pakistan’s own citizens. The military’s double game has come full circle; it is now battling the very forces it helped create.

The latest air campaign, then, is not a show of dominance but an act of desperation. By exporting conflict across the Durand Line, Pakistan’s military hopes to reassert control at home, distract from economic collapse, and re-engineer a sense of purpose amid growing dissent. The tactic is old, but its effectiveness is waning.

A State in Search of Legitimacy

Behind this posture lies a deeper crisis. Pakistan’s economy teeters on the edge of default, inflation has gutted the middle class, and trust in institutions has eroded to historic lows. Civilian authority has been hollowed out, leaving the generals as both the architects and arbiters of national destiny. In this vacuum, foreign confrontation becomes a convenient theater as a means to restore the illusion of unity.

But this militarized reflex has led the country into disaster time and again. From the loss of East Pakistan in 1971 to the insurgencies that now rage in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa and Balochistan, Pakistan’s military has repeatedly mistaken coercion for control. Each cycle of external projection has only deepened domestic fracture.

Misreading Afghanistan Again

Islamabad’s current calculus suggests that it still views Kabul as a subordinate actor — a regime that can be coerced or conditioned into compliance. This worldview is not only outdated but dangerously self-defeating.

The Taliban government, regardless of its ideological flaws, has proven fiercely protective of Afghan sovereignty. “Afghanistan will not fight someone else’s war,” Taliban Defense Minister Mullah Yaqoob declared after earlier talks in Doha. “We respect our neighbors, but we will not allow any country to violate our sovereignty.”

Such statements, unthinkable a decade ago, mark a clear rejection of Pakistan’s historic dominance. For Islamabad, this independence is disquieting. For Kabul, it is existential.

Diplomacy in Principle, Pressure in Practice

Against this volatile backdrop, the recent Istanbul peace efforts led by Turkiye and Qatar offered a rare window for de-escalation. After a week of intensive talks ending on October 30, both sides agreed to extend the ceasefire and to reconvene on November 6 to discuss a monitoring and verification mechanism. The joint statement praised the “continuation of the truce” and pledged to prevent further violence along the Durand Line.

On paper, this represents progress. In practice, it remains precarious. Islamabad’s public messaging before and after the talks reflected more ultimatum than outreach. Pakistan’s Defense Minister Khawaja Asif warned that “if this deal fails, open war becomes inevitable,” a statement that undercut the spirit of diplomacy. Days later, a military spokesperson told reporters that “the truce won’t hold if attacks persist,” effectively blaming Kabul preemptively.

When Pakistan conducts airstrikes, it reinforces the Afghan perception that Islamabad seeks to impose, not negotiate. Each such act feeds nationalist narratives in Kabul and bolsters the Taliban’s domestic legitimacy as defenders of sovereignty. The irony is striking: the very movement once regarded as Pakistan’s proxy is now gaining moral capital at Pakistan’s expense.

Such actions and rhetoric turn negotiation into performance. When one side speaks the language of threats rather than trust, diplomacy risks becoming a tactical pause — not a genuine pursuit of peace.

Why Talks May Falter

On November 6, Afghan and Pakistani officials will meet in Istanbul. The meeting, while diplomatically important, faces long odds. Both sides enter with asymmetric expectations and domestic constraints. Pakistan demands that Kabul curb the TTP and allow cross-Durand Line verification. Afghanistan insists that any truce must rest on reciprocity; Pakistan must not allow the Islamic State Khorasan Province (ISKP) to operate from Pakistani territory and should respect Afghan sovereignty.

The imbalance of power and perception ensures a fragile foundation. Pakistan’s military, accustomed to dictating regional outcomes, now finds itself negotiating with a government it cannot easily intimidate. Meanwhile, the Taliban leadership, though internationally isolated, must show strength to Afghans, who view Pakistan’s strikes as acts of aggression.

For now, it is clear that Pakistan is negotiating from a place of insecurity, not leverage. Its coercive diplomacy has lost credibility in Kabul.

Illusion of Control

Wars in this region are not won through airpower or coercive posturing. They are shaped by endurance, geography, and narrative. Pakistan may command the skies, but Afghanistan commands the ground, both literally and symbolically. Should hostilities resume, Pakistan would face asymmetric retaliation and escalating unrest within its own territory.

History has shown this pattern before: initial confidence giving way to fatigue, repression, and alienation. Each iteration deepens Pakistan’s internal divisions, from ethnic grievances to provincial discontent. The more Islamabad tightens its grip, the faster the political cohesion slips away.

A Region Losing Patience

Internationally, Islamabad’s tactics have alarmed even its closest partners. Beijing, once Pakistan’s staunchest ally, has quietly urged restraint, wary that instability along the Durand Line could jeopardize Belt and Road projects. Iran and Russia have voiced similar concerns, while Washington, fatigued by decades of managing Pakistan’s contradictions, is unlikely to intervene. There is no appetite in the United States to referee Pakistan’s regional rivalries anymore.

The result is growing isolation. Unlike past military campaigns, no external power appears willing to subsidize Pakistan’s latest conflict, especially not one against a neighboring Muslim state.

Toward Reflection, Not Retaliation

None of this is to deny Pakistan’s legitimate security concerns. The TTP has inflicted devastating attacks on Pakistani civilians and security forces. Yet security cannot be achieved by treating Afghanistan as both a scapegoat and a battlefield. The insurgency is as much a reflection of Pakistan’s internal governance failures as it is of cross-Durand Line dynamics.

The lesson for both capitals is clear. Stability requires more than ceasefires; it demands a rethinking of regional relations away from coercion and toward coexistence. For Pakistan, that means moving from the logic of control to the logic of cooperation. For Afghanistan, it means consolidating internal legitimacy through governance, not solely through religious ideology.

The Lesson History Keeps Teaching

Every confrontation between Afghanistan and Pakistan ends the same way: Afghanistan endures; Pakistan weakens. The more Islamabad seeks to command Kabul’s choices, the less control it retains over its own.

If Pakistan’s generals believe another confrontation will restore authority, they are mistaken. It will only accelerate the erosion of the very state they claim to defend. For too long, Pakistan’s national security has been defined by fear of India, of dissent, of democracy. But true security is built not on fear, but on reform.

Unless that transformation begins, the Durand Line will remain not just a contested frontier, but a mirror reflecting Pakistan’s deepest insecurities.

Guest Authors

Aziz Amin is a former Afghan government official. He’s a writer and analyst currently serving as a fellow at the Oxford Global Society think tank in Oxford, United Kingdom and the Brenthurst Foundation. He tweets @iamazizamin

Atif Mashal is an Afghan diplomat and scholar serving as Director General of the Afghanistan Institute for Strategic and Regional Studies (AISRS) in Kabul. He has served as Afghanistan’s Ambassador to Pakistan, Chairman of the Afghanistan Cricket Board, and Director of International Relations at the Administrative Office of the President. He tweets @MashalAtif. Views are personal.

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https://thediplomat.com/2025/11/pakistans-generals-are-marching-toward-another-disaster