Shabir Ahmad
The ongoing US-Israel war against Iran, which erupted in late February 2026 with devastating airstrikes and has now dragged into its second month, has laid bare the contradictions, weaknesses, and duplicity of Pakistan’s foreign policy like never before. While Islamabad frantically positions itself as a self-appointed “mediator”—hosting four-nation talks with Turkey, Egypt, and Saudi Arabia, and relaying messages between Washington and Tehran—its actions reveal a classic Pakistani playbook: rhetorical solidarity with Muslim causes, backchannel subservience to powerful patrons, and a desperate scramble for relevance amid domestic chaos and economic fragility.
Far from showcasing diplomatic prowess, Pakistan’s maneuvers in this conflict expose a bankrupt state addicted to double games, incapable of genuine neutrality, and ultimately sidelined as a spoiler rather than a solution.
Pakistan has loudly touted its role in shuttling a US 15-point ceasefire proposal to Iran and offering to host direct talks in Islamabad. Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif and Foreign Minister Ishaq Dar have framed this as principled diplomacy, with Pakistan acting as the “bridge” between adversaries.
Yet this so-called mediation is anything but impartial. Islamabad maintains deep military and intelligence ties with the United States, including recent high-level engagements with the Trump administration. At the same time, it shares a long border with Iran and relies on pragmatic energy deals to keep its lights on.
Critics, including voices in Israel, have rightly questioned Pakistan’s credibility as a mediator. This is the same country whose notorious A.Q. Khan nuclear proliferation network aided Iran’s program in the past. How can a state that helped create the nuclear headache now pose as an honest broker seeking to restrain it? Israeli assessments have bluntly labeled Pakistan untrustworthy for any serious role in restraining Tehran.
Pakistan’s “mediation” appears less about peace and more about currying favor with Washington while extracting concessions or aid from a conflict-weary America. When Pakistan urged the US to intervene so Israel would remove certain Iranian officials from assassination lists, it was not neutral statesmanship—it was transactional horse-trading that undermined any claim to moral high ground.
Pakistan’s public posturing—condemning Israeli strikes and voicing “solidarity” with Iran’s sovereignty—rings hollow. Official statements criticize attacks on all sides, but behind the scenes, Islamabad has warned Iran against targeting Saudi Arabia, citing its defense pact with Riyadh. This balancing act is not sophisticated diplomacy; it is the hallmark of a state that says one thing to Tehran and another to Washington and the Gulf monarchies. Iran has reportedly grown furious over Pakistan’s perceived “double game,” particularly regarding access through the Strait of Hormuz, where energy security trumps any brotherly Islamic rhetoric.
Pakistan’s selective outrage exposes its hollow claims to champion the Muslim ummah. It rails against Israeli actions in Iran while simultaneously fighting its own brutal border conflict with Afghanistan, complete with civilian casualties and “open war” declarations that have drawn far less international scrutiny than the Middle East theater. As Pakistani diplomats hosted talks on de-escalating the Iran war, heavy fighting continued with Afghanistan—highlighting Islamabad’s selective pacifism. It plays peacemaker abroad while escalating tensions next door.
Its alliance with Saudi Arabia further undermines any pro-Iran posturing. The 2025 strategic mutual defense agreement with Riyadh obliges Pakistan to treat an attack on Saudi territory as an attack on itself. When Iranian-linked actions hit Gulf targets, Pakistan’s foreign minister was quick to caution Tehran. Yet when the US and Israel strike Iran, Pakistan suddenly discovers its “neutral” voice and mediation ambitions. This is not principled non-alignment; it is opportunistic hedging by a cash-strapped military establishment that depends on Gulf financial lifelines and US security cooperation. Pakistan’s army chief, Asim Munir, has leveraged personal ties to both Tehran and Washington, but the result is a policy that pleases no one fully and erodes trust across the board.
Domestic fallout has been equally damning. The war has triggered an energy crisis in Pakistan, forcing austerity measures and exposing the country’s dangerous dependence on disrupted oil flows through Hormuz. Protests have erupted, with critics accusing the military-led establishment of failing to shield the public from global shocks while chasing irrelevant diplomatic photo-ops. Street chaos and economic pain reveal the limits of Pakistan’s grandstanding: it lacks the stability, resources, or internal cohesion to influence a major regional war meaningfully.
This Iran episode fits a long, embarrassing pattern. Pakistan has historically played double games—nurturing jihadist proxies while taking US aid to fight them, proliferating nuclear technology while preaching non-proliferation, and aligning with China and Gulf states in ways that serve narrow military interests over national development. In the current war, its eagerness to insert itself as a messenger between the US and a battered Iran smacks of the same opportunism: positioning for future aid, debt relief, or geopolitical brownie points rather than any genuine commitment to peace or sovereignty.
Even its much-hyped “middle power” agency falls flat. A country mired in internal political instability, terrorism, economic default risks, and simultaneous border conflicts with Afghanistan is hardly a credible interlocutor for high-stakes US-Iran de-escalation. Regional powers like Turkey and Egypt joined the Islamabad talks more out of necessity than faith in Pakistani leadership. Israel and hardliners in Washington view it with suspicion, while Iran sees betrayal in the Hormuz maneuvering. Pakistan ends up isolated in its pretensions—loud on rhetoric, weak on delivery.
The Bitter Truth: Pakistan’s Self-Inflicted Exposure
The 2026 Iran war has not elevated Pakistan; it has exposed its chronic ailments. A state that cannot secure its own borders or economy presumes to broker peace between superpowers and a defiant regional power. A nation with a documented history of proliferation and proxy warfare lectures on sovereignty and humanitarian law. A leadership addicted to military dominance and external patronage pretends at independent diplomacy.
In reality, Pakistan’s role amounts to little more than a convenient messaging service for Washington, tempered by fear of Iranian spillover and Saudi financial pressure. Its “principled stance” is a mirage, its mediation a sideshow that distracts from domestic failures. As the conflict grinds on—with continued strikes, energy disruptions, and uncertain ceasefires—Pakistan’s double game risks alienating all parties without delivering tangible benefits to its own people.
The world sees through the charade. Pakistan is not a rising diplomatic player but a cautionary tale: a nuclear-armed state trapped by its own contradictions, forever playing both sides and ultimately trusted by none. In the harsh light of the Iran war, Islamabad’s exposure is complete—and deeply unflattering. The sooner Pakistan confronts its internal rot instead of chasing external relevance, the better for its long-suffering citizens and regional stability. Until then, its maneuvers will remain what they have always been: noisy, self-serving, and ultimately inconsequential.
