Pakistan’s Admission: The Reality of Terroristan

Frederick Forsyth’s Avenger, while often overshadowed by his work The Day of the Jackal, offers a rich tapestry of geopolitical intricacies that eerily foreshadow the modern landscape of global terror. In its sprawling narrative, it captures the unthinkable intersection of terror networks, state involvement, and American pragmatism—all concluding on a date that would soon transform the world: September 10, 2001.

To appreciate the context of this prediction, we must rewind to Abbottabad, a seemingly innocuous garrison town that became infamous as the home of Osama bin Laden. This was not a fictional setting; it symbolizes the complex double game that Forsyth meticulously chronicled. Today, more than two decades later, Pakistan is laying bare its involvement—a revelation extending beyond nuclear threats or economic dependencies to a stark admission: for over thirty years, it has been the reluctant enforcer of America’s geopolitical whims, all while nurturing terror groups as creatures of convenience.

The Dirty Work Diaries

Recently, Pakistan’s defence minister, Khawaja Asif, made waves during an interview with Sky News by stating, “We’ve been doing the US’s dirty work for decades.” This acknowledgment arrived with the air of casual familiarity, reminiscent more of confessions around a dinner table than the serious implications of operating a global terror incubator. Not to let the moment pass quietly, former foreign minister Bilawal Bhutto-Zardari chimed in, confirming Pakistan’s troubled history while glancing toward the West for complicity.

Hillary Clinton’s warning echoes in this admission: “You can’t keep snakes in your backyard and expect them only to bite your neighbors.” Today’s twist? These snakes are armed with diplomatic privileges and business class tickets, courtesy of Western financing. What we’re witnessing is not merely a slip of the tongue; it’s a resounding proclamation of complicity.

Geopolitical Catfish: Always Swiping Right

While such a confession might appear earth-shattering to outsiders, it isn’t precisely news. Pakistan’s historical rapport with jihadist proxies is as old as the nation itself. The entertainment lies not in the revelation but in the unexpected pursuit of validation that Pakistan seeks through its confession.

Over decades, Pakistan’s diplomatic evolution—from Moscow’s disgruntled partner to Washington’s strategic ally, and now Beijing’s steadfast companion—paints a portrait of a geopolitical catfish that never truly claims its authenticity. Always opportunistic, always avoiding accountability, Pakistan has mastered the art of victimhood on the global stage, engaging in a Tinder-like dance of diplomacy to maintain its financial lifelines while sidestepping responsibility.

How the Barracks Became the Nation

Understanding Pakistan’s intricate present involves recognizing what it genuinely lacks: a robust civilian governance structure. In stark contrast to India’s transition to civilian authority, Pakistan’s power dynamics have grotesquely favored military influence. An anecdote from 1957 encapsulates this: during Prime Minister Nehru’s visit to General Thimayya, he stumbled upon a cabinet filled with not just defense plans but also expectations of military coups.

Over time, this military grip tightened, extending its reach beyond just law and order to the very fabric of Pakistani identity, managing everything from corporate assets to national ideology. The army transformed from a mere protector into an identity-definer, necessitating the recruitment of loyal foot soldiers among the jihadi ranks.

Terror as Start-Up Strategy

From the Mujahideen during the Soviet-Afghan War to the Taliban and later, Lashkar-e-Taiba, the Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI) agency positioned itself as the Silicon Valley of global jihad. It became the nurturing ground for terror, backed by state resources. Pakistan has witnessed multiple confessionals regarding operations running from its soil—including the 2008 Mumbai attacks, which a former Prime Minister linked to non-state actors, and General Musharraf’s revelations of involvement with Kashmir militants.

All these truths lent support to Forsyth’s narrative, but the shocking part was the cessation of pretense surrounding these actions.

Pahalgam and the Speech That Preceded It

Recent events in Pahalgam, Kashmir, resulting in the deaths of 26 individuals, including a foreign tourist, correlate ominously with a speech by the current army chief, General Asim Munir. In that address at the Pakistan Military Academy, he articulated an unvarnished perspective on Islam’s distinctions from Hinduism, reaffirming the contentious two-nation theory—an ideology that continues to fuel conflict and animosity.

Zia with a PowerPoint

General Munir is a figure steeped in both modernity and ideological rigidity—a contemporary reflection of Zia-ul-Haq, yet better connected through technology and social factors. He represents a worrying evolution where theocratic ambitions blend seamlessly with military power. The skepticism surrounding a military-led takeover may no longer be hypothetical, but a quiet everyday reality.

The Coup That Doesn’t Need a Coup

Within Pakistan, the concept of civilian governance feels more like a ghost—present only in name. Currently, civilian leadership appears as a facade while the true power resides firmly in Rawalpindi, where the military dictates the actions of parliament. Even with overwhelming authority, the army is confronted with the very mess it has orchestrated; absolute control has not translated into effective management, evidenced by the ongoing economic strife faced by its citizens.

A Partition of the Mind

Both India and Pakistan emerged from colonial rule, yet their national narratives diverged profoundly. While India inherited a bureaucratic framework, Pakistan took on a military-centric approach, which fostered a society where terrorism became an integral aspect of state policy. The army not only defends the nation but actively shapes its identity through fear and fundamentalism, with Kashmir remaining a prized grievance rather than a diplomatic challenge.

From Confession to Collapse?

Here we stand today: with a defence minister mentioning decades of state-sponsored terror in a flippant manner, a historical echo being shrugged off by former leaders, and an army chief reviving divisive ideologies while conflict brews. This moment signals not so much a turning point as a point of no return. With international powers having long outsourced their responsibilities to the Pakistani military, the question morphing into a pressing inquiry is: how will the world respond now that the curtain has been drawn on Pakistan’s role in global terror? The snakes have finally revealed themselves, and the narrative is about to shift.