The recent armed clashes along the Pakistan-Afghanistan border and Pakistan’s subsequent air strikes on Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) hideouts inside Afghan territory have reignited an old debate: is Afghanistan now an enemy state? The question itself reveals a dangerous confusion between a hostile government and an enemy country – a distinction our public discourse must urgently recognize.
Pakistan’s limited and precise air operations against TTP sanctuaries were both necessary and justified. The terrorist group’s cross-border attacks have killed Pakistani soldiers and civilians, violating every principle of neighbourly responsibility. Islamabad’s decision to act was not a declaration of war against Afghanistan but a defensive response to eliminate threats originating from its soil.
The Taliban regime’s symbolic retaliatory firing, though unfortunate, was largely a political gesture – intended to demonstrate sovereignty and to reassure their domestic audience that Kabul remains in charge of its national security. This was an expected, even predictable, reaction from a government struggling to consolidate internal legitimacy amid growing international isolation.
However, what followed in Pakistan’s media and public commentary was disturbing. A growing chorus of television talk-shows, social-media influencers, and even some columnists began equating Afghanistan with India, labeling it an “enemy country.” This narrative, steeped in emotion and wounded pride, risks undoing decades of hard-earned understanding between the two nations.
Afghanistan may have a hostile government at present – one that often acts against Pakistan’s security interests – but it is not an enemy state. To confuse the two is to abandon strategic prudence in favour of emotional reflex. States must deal with realities, not sentiments.
Pakistan and Afghanistan share more than a 2,600-kilometre border. We share intertwined tribes, languages, faith, and centuries of history. Millions of Afghan refugees have lived in Pakistan for decades; cross-border marriages and business networks bind communities on both sides of the Durand Line. Calling Afghanistan an enemy is, in essence, branding a segment of our own extended family as hostile.
Such language deepens divides and emboldens extremist elements on both sides. It narrows the space for dialogue, trade, and cooperation on issues like water management, border regulation, and counter-terrorism – areas where collaboration, not confrontation, is vital.
Foreign policy cannot be dictated by hashtags or talk-show ratings. The difference between strategic patience and populist rage lies in understanding that national interest transcends temporary passions. Pakistan’s objective should remain the stabilization of Afghanistan – because a stable, economically viable Afghanistan is a buffer against militancy and a gateway to Central Asian trade, not a battlefield for perpetual hostility.
History offers lessons. In the 1990s, Pakistan’s recognition of the first Taliban regime was guided by strategic calculation, not affection. Similarly, today, engagement with Kabul’s current rulers must be governed by rational self-interest, not moral endorsement or emotional outrage.
Television commentators and columnists must, therefore, exercise restraint. They shape public perception, which in turn pressures policymakers. Reckless labelling of Afghanistan as an enemy risks hardening positions in Kabul and creating the very hostility we seek to avoid.
The responsibility of the intelligentsia and media is to elevate, not inflame, national debate. Criticism of the Taliban’s behaviour is legitimate; demonization of Afghanistan as a nation is not. Our narrative must distinguish between the regime in power and the people of Afghanistan – many of whom continue to look to Pakistan as a natural partner.
The current crisis between Pakistan and Afghanistan is serious but not irreversible. Military necessity should never be mistaken for enmity. The vocabulary of conflict must not replace the grammar of coexistence.
Pakistan must remain firm against terrorism, measured in its responses, and mature in its discourse. Calling a neighbour an enemy may satisfy momentary anger but undermines the strategic depth of our foreign policy.
In a volatile region where history, geography, and humanity are inextricably linked, our words matter as much as our weapons. The distinction between a hostile government and an enemy country is not merely semantic – it is the difference between perpetual instability and the possibility of regional peace.





