Delhi Blast: Pakistan’s Army Is Doubling Down on Jihadist Proxies Again

– Arun Anand

India’s investigation into the bombing of November 10 near Delhi’s Red Fort has peeled back yet another layer of a problem that New Delhi has long warned the world about: Pakistan’s enduring role as a state sponsor and safe haven for jihadist terrorism. Fifteen people have been killed in the attack, carried out just two days after the Jammu and Kashmir Police quietly uncovered a sophisticated terror module operating far from the stereotypical image of gun-wielding militants. This network, led by highly educated professionals including doctors, has now been traced directly back to the Jaish-e-Mohammad (JeM) and transnational Ansar Ghazwat-ul-Hind (an affiliate of Al Qaeda), both Pakistan-based groups fostered by the country’s military establishment.

The arrests mark one of the most troubling cases in recent years — not only because of the carnage in the heart of the Indian capital but because of what they reveal about the evolution of Pakistan’s proxy warfare machinery. A “white-collar” terror module, with operatives embedded in colleges and hospitals, radicalised digitally, guided remotely and transnationally, and supervised by handlers working under the protective umbrella of Pakistan’s security apparatus, underscores how deeply entrenched and globally connected Islamabad’s militant factories remain.

For India, the revelation is hardly surprising. For the international community, it should be alarming. Indian security agencies have now established that the Delhi module’s leaders maintained active communication with Pakistan and Turkey-based controllers ostensibly linked to JeM chief Masood Azhar. If there were any doubts about JeM’s operational revival after years of supposed crackdowns in Pakistan and India’s Operation Sindoor, the Delhi blast should put them to rest. More importantly, the module’s exposure reiterates an uncomfortable truth: despite periodic claims of counter-terror reforms, Pakistan’s soil continues to nurture and export jihadist groups as an instrument of statecraft. Masood Azhar is believed to be living comfortably in Pakistan, protected rather than prosecuted.

The timing of this exposure is equally significant. They come on the heels of Operation Sindoor, India’s unprecedented cross-border strikes on May 6 and 7 targeting terrorist infrastructures across Pakistan-occupied Jammu & Kashmir and inside Pakistan’s heartland besides several military facilities. Among the targets was JeM’s headquarters in Bahawalpur, the Markaz Subhan Allah, where ten members of Azhar’s family and four of his trusted lieutenants were killed. It was acknowledged by his senior jihadi associate Ilyas Kashmiri who is on record stating that Azhar’s family was torn apart by Indian strikes.

What was instructive then was how senior Pakistan Army officers and civilian government officials were present at funerals for Azhar’s aides, thereby exposing Pakistan’s “good” and “bad” distinction of terrorists, which it often invoked to justify selective counterterrorism efforts.It is no secret how Pakistan has used terrorism as a key component of its regional policy since decades. Though it may have started with Afghan Jihad in 1980s, it successively patronised the establishment of a network of India focused groups such as JeM, Lashkar-e-Taiba (LeT), and Hizbul Mujahideen, ostensibly to bleed India at a minimal cost through this proxy war.

Be it the infrastructure for recruitment, training, and indoctrination, it has allowed these groups to thrive under various guises like religious charities, madrasa networks, social welfare groups, and sometimes openly paramilitary outfits. For instance, LeT of Hafiz Saeed is fronted by his Jamatud Dawa charitable organisation. What sets the present moment apart is not the existence of these groups but the brazenness with which they operate under Pakistan’s current military leadership. While Islamabad routinely assures global audiences that terrorist activity has been curbed, evidence on the ground suggests the opposite: terrorist organisations are diversifying their recruitment pools, expanding digital operations, improving financial concealment, and deepening their operational cooperation.

The Delhi module’s composition of educated, professionally accomplished individuals recruited ideologically rather than preying on economically vulnerable ones demonstrates a dangerous shift. These are not fringe radicals but inconspicuous by being embedded in mainstream society, efficient at building clean identities, and less likely to attract suspicion to travel freely and avoid security red flags. This is not the work of rogue actors. It reflects a coherent strategy. This appears to be getting systematised under current Pakistan Army Chief Field Marshal Asim Munir under whom Pakistan is undergoing a dangerous power consolidation by the powerful military establishment. Munir’s actions suggest Pakistan Army’s old reliance on militant proxies returning even as the country itself grapples with heightened levels of extremism from its former proxies like Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) and Baloch nationalist insurgents.

Under Munir, the military has consolidated power across civilian institutions, tightened its grip on internal dissent, and centralised strategic decision-making. This is exemplified by the recent 27th Constitutional Amendment which provides the legal cover to Asim Munir’s actions by extending him lifetime of immunity as Field Marshal and making him the overall chief of all the armed forces of Pakistan. But on the question of terrorism, the signals have been unmistakable with groups like JeM and LeT still seen as vital instruments of Pakistan’s regional calculus. Moreover, Munir’s public rhetoric has grown more hawkish, echoing the confrontational doctrines of previous generals who viewed militancy as a cost-effective extension of state policy.

In that context, the presence of senior army officials at the funerals of JeM operatives killed during Operation Sindoor was more than symbolism; it was an official endorsement of the terror policy. It signalled to the jihadist ecosystem that Pakistan’s military elite remains committed to the decades-old compact: continue fighting India and, in exchange, receive protection, funding, and freedom of movement. Internationally, Pakistan has mastered the art of performing compliance. It arrests foot soldiers while sparing the leadership. It shutters organisations only to allow them to reappear under new names like The Resistance Front (TRF) for LeT and People’s Anti-Fascist Front (PAFF) for JeM. It serves on the UN bodies on counterterrorism while patronising terrorists through the back door. The aim is not to eliminate terrorism but to manage it by tightening or loosening the tap depending on geopolitical incentives.

Unfortunately, Western governments led by the United States have often been complicit in allowing Pakistan to play this double game by prioritising short-term strategic interests. It has resulted in a perverse equilibrium where Pakistan may suffer from homegrown extremist violence and yet nurtures groups that attack its neighbours simultaneously.As such, the Delhi bombing and the terror module’s exposure should force a reassessment, as a country that cannot or will not dismantle the terror ecosystem responsible for destabilising an entire region cannot be treated as a credible partner in global counterterrorism. It is not merely a domestic law-and-order story of India but a reminder that Pakistan’s terrorist infrastructure remains intact, adaptive, and internationally connected. It is also a warning that Pakistan’s military leadership, despite rhetorical commitments to stability, continues to rely on terrorism as a tool of state policy.

Marching in Reverse: How Pakistan Turns Defeats into National Holidays

Pakistan has long been characterised by contradictions, and its leadership has once again veered into the realm of performative patriotism. On this occasion, however, they have gone beyond their usual reliance on rhetoric or censorship, choosing instead to officially commemorate what is widely regarded as a strategic failure in the recent military standoff with India, following the latter’s Operation Sindoor, which struck militant infrastructure and military targets without reprisal. On 13 May, the Shehbaz Sharif administration announced a new national holiday, Youm-e-Markaz-e-Haq (Day of the Battle for Truth), to be observed annually on 10 May — not to mark a victory, but what officials framed as a moral success over India, despite experiencing significant military losses during the week-long conflict.

The circumstances surrounding this newly instituted national “day of valour” are far from obscure. Between 6/7 and 10 May, South Asia experienced a perilous escalation between India and Pakistan. In response to the Pahalgam massacre, in which 26 Indian civilians were killed by Pakistan-backed Lashkar-e-Toiba militants on 22 April, India undertook Operation Sindoor during the night of 6–7 May, aiming to demonstrate deterrence and punitive intent. The operation targeted no fewer than nine locations housing militant infrastructure and training camps across the Line of Control and within Pakistani territory. Independent analysts and satellite imagery have substantiated India’s precision strikes on terror-related logistics.

In retaliation, Pakistan’s military launched its own Operation Bunyan Marsoos on 10 May, which included drone swarm offensives; however, all were effectively neutralised by India’s Air Defence Systems, which intercepted and destroyed dozens of Turkish-made drones in large numbers. In a significant escalation, Indian armed forces targeted no fewer than nine Pakistan Air Force (PAF) bases, extending across the country from the Nur Khan airbase near Islamabad/Rawalpindi to Rahim Yar Khan, Sukkur, Chunian, Pasrur, and Sialkot, among others. With several airbases rendered largely inoperative, Islamabad was compelled to pursue de-escalation through Director General of Military Operations (DGMO)-level dialogue by the evening of 10 May.

However, the DG-ISPR, the media arm of Pakistan’s Armed Forces, reverted to its well-established narrative strategy by asserting that a “befitting reply” had been delivered to India’s precision strikes, despite clear evidence to the contrary. Such rhetoric has become a defining feature of the military’s public relations discourse.

Despite professing a commitment to transparency, the Pakistani establishment—along with its civilian front—has once again avoided offering genuine openness or accountability. Instead, Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif capitulated to the military establishment’s every exaggerated demand, aligning himself with its mythmaking apparatus. As part of these symbolic gestures, on 13 May, PM Sharif proclaimed that 10 May would henceforth be observed annually as Youm-e-Marka-e-Haq (Day of the Battle for Truth), in a show of support for the Pakistani armed forces. Furthermore, the government extended this orchestrated display by designating 16 May as Youm-e-Tashakur (Day of Gratitude), ostensibly to express thanks to divine forces for safeguarding the nation.

Even more notably, General Asim Munir, the current Army Chief, was conferred the rare military rank of Field Marshal, becoming only the second Pakistan Army General to receive this title since General Ayub Khan in 1959. This elevation is symbolic rather than operational, reflecting more the military’s intent to project strength than any substantive achievement on the battlefield.

However, these recent developments provide insight into the broader pattern whereby the Pakistani state—especially its military establishment—routinely transforms setbacks into celebrations to uphold its legitimacy. In the process, it not only actively reshapes historical narratives in real time but also employs national holidays as instruments of diversion and morale control.

The strategy itself dates back several decades. In 1965, Pakistan launched Operation Gibraltar, aiming to provoke an uprising in Jammu and Kashmir by infiltrating regular army troops. The operation, however, ended in failure, triggering the full-scale Indo-Pak War of 1965. Ultimately, Pakistan ceded more territory than it gained and was compelled to agree to a ceasefire through the Tashkent Agreement of 1966. Nevertheless, each year on 6 September, the country observes Defence Day—a solemn patriotic occasion featuring military parades and speeches glorifying Pakistan’s alleged martial superiority.

In 1999, Pakistani forces unlawfully crossed the Line of Control and seized strategic mountain positions in the Kargil region. The operation, carried out without civilian government approval, led to the deaths of hundreds of Pakistani soldiers as India launched a counteroffensive to retake the area. Nevertheless, General Pervez Musharraf—the architect of the Kargil debacle, appointed Army Chief by Nawaz Sharif after bypassing two senior officers only months earlier—soon assumed control through a military coup. Even today, Kargil is remembered in segments of Pakistan’s national narrative not as a failure, but as a bold display of military ingenuity.

What remains consistent across these episodes is the deliberate reconfiguration of national memory. Military defeats are recast as stories of resistance, while tactical blunders are reframed as moral triumphs. This extends beyond mere propaganda; it represents a sustained strategy of narrative management that shields the military from accountability and ensures the civilian government remains subordinate to the armed forces’ entrenched authority.

By designating 10 May as Youm-e-Markaz-e-Haq, the state is not merely revising the narrative of a military confrontation but is also proactively undermining dissent, stifling debate, and conditioning future generations to prioritise myth over reality. Educational institutions will present it as a moment of national victory, much like the portrayal of Operation Gibraltar. Any critiques highlighting strategic failures or the true economic, diplomatic, and military costs are likely to be marginalised or suppressed.

The utility of these contrived holidays is multifaceted. Firstly, they offer a cathartic release for a population grappling with economic hardship, political turmoil, and international isolation. In a nation beset by soaring inflation, a depreciating rupee, and frequent IMF bailouts, mythologised nationalism provides an inexpensive form of escapism that discourages critical inquiry. Secondly, such observances function as tests of loyalty. By requiring public participation in the commemoration of fabricated victories, the state fosters an environment where patriotism becomes performative and dissent is deemed perilous.

Thirdly, and arguably most cynically, these holidays reinforce the military’s hold over national identity. While in most democracies national holidays commemorate independence, revolution, civil rights, or peace, Pakistan’s calendar is increasingly dominated by observances that glorify the military’s role as protector and guardian, despite historical evidence to the contrary. These occasions are not simply commemorations but tools of militarised nationalism, deliberately crafted to obscure inconvenient realities.

While every nation possesses its own symbols and moments of unity can be vital, when these symbols are founded on falsehoods and unity rests upon denial, the outcome is not strength but stagnation. Consequently, the Pakistani establishment is offering its population triumphalism and a continuous stream of delusion rather than the truthful account to which they are entitled.

Moving forward, although Youm-e-Markaz-e-Haq will likely be observed with parades, speeches, and patriotic songs, behind the flags and slogans lies the reality of a state regressing—where defeats are recast as triumphs, silence is disguised as gratitude, and history is rewritten not by scholars but by military leaders. Unless Pakistanis demand accountability from the establishment, the nation will remain ensnared in a cycle of self-deception, mistaking every backward step for progress.

 

From Deterrence to Punitive Action: India’s Doctrinal Shift Against Pakistan’s Proxy Warfare

Since the partition of the Indian subcontinent in 1947, which led to the creation of independent India and Pakistan, the latter has endured multiple military defeats at the hands of the former. Characterised by military adventurism and political revisionism, Pakistan’s national and security policies have consistently revolved around India.

Merely months after independence, Pakistan revealed its questionable strategic inclinations by deploying tribal militias into Kashmir, sparking the first conflict between the two states. Almost twenty years later, the 1965 war erupted, again provoked by Pakistan’s incursion across the ceasefire line. These encounters proved humiliating for Pakistan, yet they pale in comparison to the profound setback of losing East Pakistan. Despite forfeiting around 15% of its land and more than half of its population, Pakistan exhibited a striking form of resilience—not through strength, but through denial. This enduring tendency to operationalise denial, combined with its consistent strategy of employing proxy warfare, has forced India to reassess its security doctrine concerning its volatile neighbour—from one of deterrence to a strategy aimed at raising the costs of Pakistan’s provocations.

Despite enduring immense international condemnation for its egregious human rights violations and persecution in East Pakistan—actions that intensified the secessionist uprising—Pakistan maintained a policy of constructing narratives for domestic audiences. Even today, many within the country remain unaware of the extent of the atrocities committed by their state against their former compatriots. In stark contrast, Pakistan glorified the sinking of the INS Khukri by the PNS Hangor as a defining victory, enshrining it within national and military legend. The loss of the Khukri was indeed historically significant, marking the first occasion since the Second World War that a submarine sank a warship in combat, and it inflicted a considerable blow to India, which lost 18 officers and 176 sailors in the incident.

Despite the Pakistani establishment’s deliberate distortion of events, the reality remains that Pakistan suffered losses in blood, territory, and prestige due to the Indian Army’s ferocious 13-day campaign on both its western and eastern fronts—most notably, the Indian Air Force’s powerful operation which included bombing Dhaka’s Governor House during an active meeting. This strike dealt a decisive blow to Pakistani morale, prompting Lt. Gen. A.A.K. Niazi, commander of the Eastern Command (in what is now Bangladesh), to request a ceasefire from Indian Army Chief General Sam Manekshaw. On 16 December 1971, Pakistan formally signed the instrument of surrender and was compelled to hand over approximately 93,000 soldiers to Indian forces. A similar pattern of narrative manipulation and denial resurfaced during the 1999 Kargil conflict—shortly after both nations had become nuclear powers—when the Indian Army successfully retook all positions initially captured by Pakistani infiltrators. Predictably, rather than conceding strategic defeat, Pakistan portrayed the episode as a display of bold resistance.

Commencing in the 1980s, Pakistan’s acute deficiency in strategic depth and its lack of conventional parity with India compelled it to revise its security doctrine and adopt the strategic utilisation of radical groups. Its active participation in the Afghan Jihad during this period—under the broader US-led initiative against the Soviet occupation of Afghanistan—provided the essential framework for implementing this proxy warfare strategy. Subsequently, Pakistan’s military-intelligence establishment fuelled a violent insurgency in Kashmir, orchestrating numerous terrorist attacks across the valley and other parts of India over the following decades. For an extended period, India adhered to a policy of conventional military superiority, strategic restraint, and diplomatic engagement to enforce deterrence—driven by factors such as Pakistan’s use of plausible deniability, the nuclear status of both nations, and global pressure for caution.

Over time, two clear patterns became evident. The first was that efforts towards diplomatic reconciliation and peace talks were repeatedly undermined by cross-border terrorism. The Kargil conflict occurred shortly after the landmark Lahore Declaration signed by Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee and his Pakistani counterpart Nawaz Sharif; the 2001 Agra Summit between President Pervez Musharraf and PM Vajpayee was swiftly followed by the horrific attack on the Indian Parliament; and the comprehensive peace initiative led by PM Manmohan Singh and President Musharraf—commonly referred to as the ‘Manmohan-Musharraf formula’—was derailed by the devastating 2008 Mumbai terror attacks, among other instances. Secondly, India’s response—marked by diplomatic disengagement, presentation of incriminating evidence against the Pakistani establishment at global multilateral platforms, and advocacy for coordinated international action—was met with bureaucratic inertia, geopolitical contestations, procedural delays, and widespread international indifference. Even a seemingly straightforward matter, such as the United Nations listing of Masood Azhar—leader of Jaish-e-Mohammad, responsible for the 2001 Parliament attack, 2016 Pathankot attack, and 2019 Pulwama attack—was obstructed for over a decade due to Chinese vetoes. India even agreed to Pakistan’s proposal for a joint investigation into the 2016 Pathankot attack, only for the Pakistani findings to label it ‘another false flag operation fully facilitated by the Indian army solely to blame Pakistan’.

Owing to Pakistan’s continued deception and denial, coupled with international inaction, a discernible shift has occurred in India’s strategic approach in recent years. Rather than focusing on deterrence—which would necessitate fundamental changes within Pakistan’s political and security structures—India appears to have moved towards a strategy centred on punitive cost-imposition. This shift began to surface following the 2016 surgical strikes in response to the Uri attack, gained further momentum with the Balakot air strikes after the Pulwama incident, and has now culminated in full force with the recent Operation Sindoor. Collectively, this trajectory signifies a doctrinal and operational transformation across several dimensions.

In the immediate aftermath of the horrific terrorist attack in Kashmir’s Baisaran Valley on 22 April, which claimed the lives of 25 Indian civilians and one Nepali national, India demonstrated its intent to retaliate by suspending the historic 1960 Indus Waters Treaty—long regarded as a symbol of cross-border cooperation and remarkably resilient through past conflicts. Within two weeks, this diplomatic rupture was followed by a series of precision strikes targeting nine terrorist infrastructure bases across Pakistan and Pakistan-occupied Kashmir. India described these strikes as ‘measured, non-escalatory, proportionate, and responsible,’ asserting both its necessity to act after decades of provocation by the Pakistani establishment and its desire to avoid full military escalation. The ensuing four-day cross-border aerial engagements and artillery exchanges along the Line of Control brought the adversaries to their closest point of all-out war since Kargil in 1999, revealing several critical developments. Firstly, India’s unprecedented escalation signalled not only its ability to strike Pakistan but also its readiness to incur risks and bear potential costs. Secondly, the operation and India’s accompanying message—that any attack on its soil would be treated as an act of war—effectively dismantled the false distinction between Pakistan’s state apparatus and its proxy militants, stripping Islamabad of plausible deniability. Lastly, this military action is reinforced by diplomatic efforts to impose global economic consequences on Pakistan, demand accountability for embedded terrorist figures and infrastructure, and shape the international narrative to reflect India’s grief, resilience, and zero tolerance for terrorism.

Hence, India’s shift in security doctrine towards Pakistan—from deterrence to punitive cost-imposition—has not emerged from impulsive power projection but from decades of painstaking efforts to secure accountability and reconciliation with a state that treats proxy terrorism as a strategic imperative. This recalibration stems from the realisation that, rather than deterrence, the objective must be to impose escalating costs that render Pakistan’s strategic use of terrorism increasingly unviable. With its economy in rapid decline and dependent on international financial bailouts, the waning public credibility of its military, and a series of internal security challenges, Pakistan’s continuation of cross-border terrorism against India is now yielding steadily diminishing returns.

Crisis of Legitimacy: Pakistan Army’s Pahalgam Gamble Exposes Domestic Fractures

In the aftermath of the Pahalgam massacre, the fingerprints of Pakistan’s proxy militant infrastructure were all but unmistakable. For decades, the military establishment in Rawalpindi has relied on asymmetric warfare through its proxy militant networks to provoke India while shielding itself behind the veneer of plausible deniability. The latest attack in Jammu and Kashmir’s Pahalgam on April 22, killing 26 civilians, followed a familiar script—designed not only to stir unrest in the region but also to bait an Indian response that could be leveraged for domestic political consolidation.

But this time, the playbook seems to be unravelling.

The Pakistan Army, under the leadership of General Asim Munir, seemed to have calculated an anticipated Indian retaliation with such a provocation that could be choreographed into a nationalistic rallying cry in its aftermath. Such manufactured moments of crisis have historically served the military’s purpose of reasserting its primacy in the country’s political and national security discourse. However, the sociopolitical terrain of Pakistan today is no longer the same as it was during previous confrontations.

India did respond to the Pahalgam attack with a calibrated military operation. On the night of May 7, under Operation SINDOOR, Indian armed forces targeted the infrastructure of long-operating terrorist groups, including Lashkar-e-Taiba (LeT), Jaish-e-Mohammed (JeM), and Hizbul Mujahideen (HM), across nine places in Punjab and Pakistan-occupied Jammu and Kashmir (PoJK). It was precise, strategic, and aimed at sending a clear signal: India will not tolerate cross-border terrorism and retains the right to act pre-emptively against threats originating from Pakistani soil.

Far from uniting Pakistan behind its army, the attack and subsequent Indian response have only magnified the deep fractures that lie within the country. While the government attempted to stage a performative show of national unity, the absence of solidarity from Pakistan’s historically marginalized ethnic groups has been glaring. Neither the Baloch nor the Pashtun communities—both of whom have long endured the brunt of the military’s repression and counterinsurgency operations—showed any overt inclination to stand with the state or the generals now appealing for unity. Instead, a suicide blast killed seven Pakistan Army soldiers in Balochistan on the very day of Op Sindoor.

At a time when Pakistan has effectively become a ‘Punjabistan’, given the dominant control that Punjab exerts over key state institutions, including the military, as well as disproportionate hold over to national resources, this raises a stark question: in the event of an escalated military confrontation with India, who will fight for Pakistan?

The Limits of the “External Enemy” Narrative

The Pakistan Army has always thrived on the construction of an “external enemy,” most prominently India, to maintain its unrivalled influence over national affairs. Whether in times of political upheaval or economic crises, the spectre of Indian aggression has been cynically deployed to suppress dissent, justify military budgets, and delegitimize civilian political actors. But the effectiveness of this narrative is fading, especially when the legitimacy of the military itself is in question.

The ongoing human rights violations, extrajudicial killings and state-enforced disappearances in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa and Balochistan have damaging the trust people had towards the army. The Baloch insurgency continues to simmer, with growing calls for outright independence, something that was earlier limited to internal autonomy. The Pashtun Tahafuz Movement (PTM) has exposed the military’s brutal tactics in tribal regions, and although the movement is often silenced through intimidation and arrests, its underlying grievances remain potent. Alongside this, the Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) has also increased the intensity of their armed insurgency, with hundreds of attacks in the last few years.

In such a climate, the attempt to whip up nationalist fervour around an India-Pakistan confrontation appears hollow and self-defeating. The ethnic periphery, long disenfranchised and suppressed, sees little reason to rally behind a state apparatus that has never treated them as equal stakeholders in the Pakistani project.

A Calculated Indian Doctrine

India, for its part, has signalled a significant shift in its approach to cross-border terrorism. “While earlier responses were largely diplomatic or defensive, India’s actions following the 2016 Uri attack, culminating in the 2019 Balakot airstrikes, marked a shift toward a more proactive and pre-emptive counterterrorism strategy. Now the post-Pahalgam strike under Op SINDOOR is different in both scale and message. New Delhi’s intent is now unambiguous: there will be no tolerance for Pakistani state-sponsored terrorism, and any provocation will invite proportionate, and possibly pre-emptive, military action.

By targeting terror infrastructure and avoiding civilian casualties, India walked a fine line, reflective of its doctrine of minimising collateral damage, to ensure on its part that this response does not spiral into a full-blown war. This strategic restraint while establishing its deterrence arc is designed as a demonstration of maturity and not as a sign of weakness.

What complicates matters for Pakistan is that this shift in Indian posture arrives at a moment of acute internal fragility. Its economy is in tatters, inflation is high, and the IMF continues to hover over its fiscal policy decisions. Politically, the country remains in turmoil following a deeply controversial general election, widely seen as manipulated by the military establishment to sideline populist leader Imran Khan, who remains jailed since 2023. Protests, arrests, and media censorship have become routine. Interestingly when on a day India undertook its cross-border strikes on terror assets, Pakistan Army secured a Supreme Court adjudication that allows it to try the civilians in military courts.

In this context, a military misadventure with India risks not only a humiliating defeat but also a domestic backlash that could irreparably damage the army’s authority.

Escalation Without Strategy

The temptation for Rawalpindi to escalate, either through additional proxy attacks or border skirmishes, remains high. While it has increased its cross-border shelling targeting civilians, which has killed over a dozen border residents of Jammu and Kashmir, a move of direction escalation would be nothing but deeply unwise. “By now, it should be clear to Pakistan just how vulnerable it remains, especially after India followed up with a coordinated drone strike across nearly nine cities, including the neutralization of an air defence system in Lahore on May 8, in response to attempted attacks by Pakistan’s armed forces on Indian military installations in the Northern and Western sectors.

For one, the geopolitical climate is no longer conducive to Pakistan’s old strategy of continuing to use terrorism as statecraft. The Financial Action Task Force (FATF), though it removed Pakistan from its grey list in 2022, remains watchful and it should be seen as a forgone conclusion that this continued patronisation of terror groups will put it back as a nation of terror sponsors. The international opinion following Pahalgam massacre which was condemned globally, with major powers acknowledging India’s right to defend itself from such terror elements, is an eye opener to that end, bringing swift international condemnation and furthering its diplomatic isolation. Pakistan’s Gulf allies, increasingly aligned with India on economic and strategic fronts, are unlikely to bail it out in the event of another full-scale crisis. Their post-Pahalgam opinion is a testament of this reality.

Moreover, China, Pakistan’s all-weather friend, has grown weary of instability. The China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC), once hailed as a transformative initiative, has stalled due to security concerns in Balochistan and beyond. Beijing is unlikely to support any adventurism that could jeopardize its investments despite some of the Chinese strategic hawks seeking China’s declare its commitment to defend Pakistan sovereignty in any eventuality.

Thus, escalation without a clearly defined strategic goal would amount to national self-sabotage. The army must instead reckon with its internal legitimacy crisis, reassess its use of proxies, and confront the reality that its traditional levers of control are weakening.

A Moment of Reckoning

The fallout from the Pahalgam massacre and now Operation Sindoor marks a turning point, not only in Indo-Pak relations, which remain perennially fraught, but also in Pakistan’s internal balance of power. The military’s attempt to engineer a patriotic revival through orchestrated conflict seems to be backfiring, revealing a brittle state hollowed out by decades of ethnic suppression, institutional decay, and misgovernance.

What Pakistan needs is not another external confrontation but an honest reckoning with its domestic contradictions. It must initiate a political process that includes, rather than marginalizes, its ethnic peripheries. It must reorient its security doctrine away from India-centric paranoia toward genuine internal stability. And above all, it must curb the military’s ability to unilaterally dictate the nation’s trajectory through violence and manipulation.

Until then, the question will continue to haunt Rawalpindi’s corridors of power: if not the Baloch, not the Pashtuns, not even the disillusioned urban middle classes—then who will fight for Pakistan?

Funding terrorist organisations in Pakistan: ISI, Drug Money, Zakat !

Pakistan has dozens of terrorist organisations which operate from its soil and export terrorism to rest of the world.  These organisations have a financial ecosystem that has survived the international scrutiny and multiple operations from international agencies to stop terror financing.

Pakistan has five broad categories of terrorist organisations: (1) Globally oriented; (2) Afghanistan-oriented; (3) India-oriented; (4) Domestically oriented; and (5) Sectarian (anti-Shia).

The India-oriented terrorist organisations include: Lashkar-e-Taiba (LET) formed in the late 1980s; Jaish-e-Mohammed (JEM) founded in 2000; Harakat-ul Jihad Islami (HUJI) formed in 1980; Harakat ul-Mujahidin (HUM) was established in 1998; Hizbul Mujahideen (HM) was formed in 1989.

According to a study paper “Pakistan Army and Terrorism; an unholy alliance” done by Amsterdam based, European Foundation for South Asian Studies (EFSAS), Amsterdam, “Pakistan… plays a key role in funding these terrorist organizations. As per reports, the yearly expenditure of ISI(Pakistan’s intelligence agency) towards the terrorist organizations runs between 125-250 million USD, covering salaries, cash incentives for high-risk operations and retainers for guides, porters and informers.”

An internal report of Pakistan governments Financial Monitoring Unit(FMU) , titled “National Risk Assessment on Money Laundering and Terrorism Financing 2017” has details of how terror groups are generating funds in Pakistan. This report was never made public but excerpts of these reports were quoted by Noor Zahid and Madeeha Anwar in a Voice of America report  published in 2017. The duo  exposed the funding of Pak terror groups in a report titled ‘Pakistan Terror Groups Get Rich From Crime, Money Laundering’

According to Zahid and Anwar, “Waves of crime in Pakistan — including extortion, smuggling and kidnapping for ransom — are major sources of terrorist financing for extremist groups in the country. “Main sources of income of terrorists in Pakistan include foreign funding, drug trafficking, kidnapping for ransom, extortion from business, vehicle snatching,” according to the 45-page confidential report by FMU, which is an intelligence service department within Pakistan’s Ministry of Finance.

“The report, which had not been released publicly, says over 200 local and international terrorist organizations generate billions of Pakistani rupees to fund their activities. Annual operational budget of terrorist organizations is from 5 million rupees [about $48,000] to 25 million rupees [about $240,000],” the report said, according to The News website, which published these excerpts.

‘Terrorism Monitor’ of Jamestown Foundation revealed in December 2024 another important facet of terror funding in Pakistan. It said, “Terrorist groups in Pakistan frequently use high-denomination currency to finance their operations. Permitting a large number of high-value notes to be in circulation makes it easy for bad actors to transfer considerable amounts of money without a digital footprint, making illicit activities easier to conduct.”

The relatively high availability of such bills in circulation in Pakistan is due to the country’s underutilization of electronic payment systems, it added.

According to this report, Tunda, a notorious bomb expert for Lashkar-e-Taiba (LeT) who reportedly masterminded more than 40 bombings in India had told the Indian law enforcement agencies after his arrest with huge amount of Pakistan currency that large denomination bills were “kings who could do anything for them.”

“Pakistani denominations currently in circulation include 10-, 20-, 50-, 100-, 500-, 1,000-, and 5,000-rupee notes. It is noteworthy that Pakistan, which makes up 3 percent of the world’s population, accounts for 7.1 percent of the world’s unbanked adults,” says this report.

According to a research brief prepared by US Congressional Research Service in 2023, “Although Pakistan’s 2014 National Action Plan to counter terrorism seeks to ensure that no armed militias are allowed to function in the country, several United Nations- and U.S.-designated terrorist groups continue to operate from Pakistani soil.”

 Islamic Charities

Almost all the terrorist organisations have set up Islamic charities as their fronts in Pakistan. These charities operate globally. In fact, USAID had funded many of these charities, revealed a recent report by the Middle East Forum, a US based think tank revealed. In addition the ‘Zakat’ collected from common people during the month of Ramadan by these charities are also funnelled to fund these terrorist organisations.

Since the 1980s, Pakistan has had a system of compulsory collection of zakat, relying on a state-administered zakat fund and zakat councils at federal, provincial and district levels. In 2024, the average zakat giver paid about 15,000 Pakistani rupees with over 50 million Pakistanis contributing. The total funds generated in Pakistan through Zakat was over 600 billion Pakistani rupees in 2024. A large chunk of this money goes for oiling the terror infrastructure established by Pakistani state and their proxy terrorist groups.