Khyber Pakhtunkhwa (KP), a province long haunted by cycles of violence and militarisation, is once again reeling under the growing shadow of militancy.
In recent months, there has been a noticeable uptick in attacks targeting police, security forces, political leaders, tribal elders, and even ordinary civilians. Districts like North and South Waziristan, Bajaur, Tank, Bannu, and Dera Ismail Khan have witnessed frequent ambushes, suicide bombings, and targeted killings. Swat, once showcased as a symbol of successful de-radicalisation, is again showing signs of militant reactivation. Even settled districts like Mardan, Peshawar, and Kohat have not been spared. This resurgence of terror is all the more alarming because it comes despite over a decade of large-scale military operations-Rah-e-Rast, Rah-e-Nijat, Zarb-e-Azb, and Radd-ul-Fasaad-intended to eliminate terrorist strongholds and dismantle their networks. Billions were spent, thousands of civilians were displaced, and countless lives were lost. Yet, today, KP seems to be sliding back into a familiar nightmare.
Many residents see themselves as expendable pawns in a larger geopolitical game, where peace is simply transient and security selective.
The growing public frustration in KP is palpable. From protest marches in Waziristan and Bajaur to sit-ins in Dir and Swat, people are taking to the streets, not just to mourn the dead but to demand answers. Tribal elders, youth, and civil society members are openly questioning the logic of repeated military operations that fail to secure lasting peace. Many ask: if the terrorists were indeed “eliminated,” why are they back? If peace had been restored, why are we burying our loved ones again? A particularly harrowing example of this came with the killing of Maulana Khan Zeb in Bajaur, a respected religious scholar, political leader and peace advocate who had consistently spoken out against militancy and preached the values of dialogue and nonviolence. Gunned down in cold blood for his principled stand, his murder sent a chilling message to others who dare to raise their voices for peace: silence, or die. His death has not only shaken the entire region but also laid bare the stark vulnerability of those who believe in democratic ideals and peaceful coexistence.
There is a deep and dangerous trust deficit between the state and the people of KP. Many residents feel they are caught in a war they did not start, and for which they are paying the heaviest price. They see themselves as expendable pawns in a larger geopolitical game, where peace is simply transient and security selective. What deepens their despair is the lack of accountability, transparency, and genuine engagement with the communities most affected.
Every few years, the security forces and officials declare victory over terrorism. Yet on the ground, the reality remains unchanged-or worse, deteriorates. The return of the Tehrik-i-Taliban Pakistan (TTP), or its splinter groups, the re-emergence of shadowy militant networks, and the continued flow of weapons and fighters from across the border point to a fundamental failure in strategy. Rather than dismantling the ideological and logistical infrastructure of militancy, the state’s approach has often focused on short-term kinetic gains. Military operations, though necessary at times, have not been complemented by meaningful political, legal, and socioeconomic reforms. Promises of mainstreaming the tribal belt, establishing the rule of law, and investing in education, health, and economic revival have either stalled or existed only in rhetoric, leaving the root causes of militancy unaddressed and communities vulnerable to renewed radicalisation.
Compounding this failure is the inability of the Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI), which ruled the province uninterrupted for over twelve years, to formulate or implement an effective security and governance strategy. While the PTI leadership often claimed credit for police reforms and improved governance, the lived reality for citizens-particularly in the tribal districts and conflict-prone southern belt-tells a different story. The party largely relied on federal forces to manage security without building sustainable, locally rooted mechanisms to prevent militant resurgence. It failed to strengthen civilian oversight, ensure timely political integration of the merged areas, or provide consistent development to communities most vulnerable to extremist recruitment. This prolonged governance vacuum allowed non-state actors to quietly re-establish influence in areas that had only recently been declared cleared. The PTI’s disconnect from the evolving ground realities, its internal centralised decision-making, and its reliance on rhetoric over action all contributed to the slow unravelling of gains made at enormous human and financial cost.
In areas like the merged districts of former FATA, the absence of functional governance, slow judicial integration, and lack of economic opportunity have created a vacuum easily exploited by extremist elements. The return of the Taliban to power in Afghanistan in 2021 has emboldened militant groups across the region, particularly the TTP. Operating from sanctuaries across the border, the TTP has intensified its terror campaign in the region. Islamabad’s initial strategy of engagement with the TTP through Afghan intermediaries backfired, as it allowed the militants time and space to regroup and expand. The lack of a coherent and consistent counterterrorism policy has only added to the confusion. While the National Action Plan (NAP), adopted in the wake of the 2014 Army Public School (APS) massacre, had initially inspired hope, its uneven implementation has rendered it ineffective.
One of the most troubling aspects of the rising militancy in KP is the lack of national discourse around it. Mainstream media often downplays the violence, offering only perfunctory coverage of bombings and killings. National political leaders rarely visit the affected regions or speak up about the crisis. This silence is both deliberate and dangerous. The people of KP feel isolated in their suffering. When they speak out, they are labelled as “unpatriotic” or “anti-state.” Civil society activists, journalists, and local leaders who demand accountability face harassment, threats, and in some cases, forced disappearances.
What KP needs today is not another round of hollow military triumphalism, but a serious, inclusive, and transparent conversation on how to achieve sustainable peace. This must begin with acknowledging past mistakes and recognising that force alone cannot win hearts and minds. There is an urgent need to rebuild public trust by engaging local communities in peacebuilding efforts. Governance and service delivery must be improved in the merged districts. Education, health, justice, and economic opportunity must be prioritised over symbolic development. Counterterrorism strategies must be revised to focus on intelligence-based operations and ideological de-radicalisation. A new national consensus on terrorism must be forged, free from political expediency. Transparency and accountability in all security-related matters must be ensured. The public has a right to know what is happening in their towns and villages and who is responsible when things go wrong.
The rising militancy in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa is not just a local crisis-it is a national emergency. If left unaddressed, it threatens to undo years of hard-won progress and may plunge the country back into an era of fear and fragmentation. But more importantly, it will be yet another betrayal of the people of KP, who have suffered silently, resisted valiantly, and hoped desperately for a better tomorrow.
The writer is a development practitioner and governance specialist, a former Resident Country Director of the National Democratic Institute (NDI), and a former journalist. He tweets @QurayshKhattak