Every rational observer wishes for success in the Pakistan-Afghanistan dialogue currently underway in Istanbul. Yet, realism demands a sobering question: can these talks actually succeed? The outlook, unfortunately, appears bleak. Several recent developments have complicated the process so deeply that expecting a meaningful breakthrough seems unrealistic. Even if the talks yield temporary progress, their durability would remain doubtful.
Pakistan’s position rests on three clear principles: first, that the Afghan government must stop cross-border terrorism originating from its soil; second, if Kabul is unable to act, it should allow Pakistan to do so; and third, both sides may cooperate in joint operations against such militants.
Kabul, however, has dismissed the premise altogether. It insists that there are no anti-Pakistan militants residing in Afghanistan, only refugees who crossed the border during Pakistan’s 2014 military operation Zarb-e-Azb. These individuals, it claims, are displaced persons, not terrorists.
Good relations between neighbours are always desirable, but peace cannot be a one-sided aspiration.
This narrative itself reveals the crux of the problem. Zarb-e-Azb targeted militant sanctuaries, not ordinary civilians. Those who fled to Afghanistan were precisely the elements the Pakistani state had been fighting. To now declare them “refugees” and refuse action against them closes the door on any real counterterror cooperation. That impasse alone casts a dark shadow over the Istanbul initiative.
An added irony compounds the matter. On one hand, Kabul urges Islamabad not to repatriate Afghan refugees, invoking humanitarian obligations. On the other hand, it shelters those who have taken up arms against Pakistan, labelling them as “refugees.” In effect, Pakistan has hosted millions of Afghans for decades, absorbing economic, social, and security burdens, while Afghanistan harbours individuals attacking Pakistan from its soil. No sovereign state can be expected to tolerate such contradictions indefinitely.
Afghanistan’s claim that no attacks in Pakistan originate from its territory is equally untenable. Islamabad has repeatedly presented evidence that Afghan nationals, including state officials, have been involved in terrorist activity inside Pakistan. One glaring example is Burhanuddin, son of Maulvi Ghulam Muhammad Ahmadi, deputy governor of Badghis province, who was killed in an operation in Dera Ismail Khan while engaged in militant activity. Similarly, a recent operation in North Waziristan eliminated Qasim, an active-duty Afghan Border Police officer from Paktika province. Pakistani authorities report that 60 per cent of those neutralised in that encounter were Afghan citizens.
All this unfolded while the Istanbul talks were underway, a telling indicator of the gap between diplomatic niceties and ground realities.
Further signs point toward entrenched hostility rather than reconciliation. In the Afghan province of Zabul, during a recent military parade, a “patriotic song” proclaimed the goal of raising Afghanistan’s flag in Lahore and setting Islamabad ablaze. That such rhetoric emerged not from fringe elements but within a formal military setting exposes the depth of antagonism.
Equally alarming is the public display by Afghanistan’s Deputy Interior Minister for Khost province, Muhammad Nabi Omari, who accepted a “Greater Afghanistan” map that includes Pakistani territory. In the accompanying video, they explicitly threatened Pakistan. This is not spontaneous rhetoric; it reflects a long-standing ideological posture that dates back to 1947. Its intensity has varied over time, but its essence remains unchanged.
Since Pakistan’s inception, only two states have questioned its territorial integrity: India and Afghanistan. India’s grievance is historical, the partition of “Bharat Mata.” Afghanistan’s dispute is geographic; it has never recognised the Durand Line as an international border. Successive Afghan governments have either directly or indirectly supported groups such as Pashtun Zalmay to destabilise Pakistan.
Good relations between neighbours are always desirable, but peace cannot be a one-sided aspiration. Diplomacy, like applause, requires both hands. Pakistan has so far displayed remarkable restraint and diplomatic patience. But the time may be approaching when patience alone will no longer suffice.
The writer is a lawyer and author based in Islamabad. He tweets @m_asifmahmood