Daily Time Editorials 31st May 2025

[zarnishhayat]

Cautious Embrace

There are no full stops in geopolitics, only commas. And, so it is with Pakistan’s decision to elevate its diplomatic mission in Kabul to the ambassadorial level. After months of cross-border tension and Islamabad’s repeated calls for action against the banned TTP, the government is now opting for engagement over estrangement.Travel guides

Foreign Minister Ishaq Dar announced this shift in the wake of a “very productive” April visit to Kabul. Nonetheless, it would be practical to read this move as what it is: not a political endorsement of the Taliban regime but an act of realpolitik under duress.

For decades, Pakistan pursued strategic depth in Afghanistan; a gamble that has not paid off. Ergo, sooner or later, there was little choice but to accept that it must deal with the government that exists, not the one it would prefer.


Travel guides
The Taliban are not returning to the caves. They are governing. Badly, yes–with repressive laws, restricted rights for women, and a glaring lack of political inclusivity. But they are governing. And regional powers (from China and Russia to the UAE) have already adjusted to the status quo.

Yet what makes this move remarkable is the razor-thin line it walks. Pakistan, like all UN member states, has not formally recognized the Taliban regime. This ambiguity allows the pursuit of urgent goals: curbing cross-border militancy, expanding the formal bilateral trade (which surged over 27 per cent this fiscal year), and seeking overland connectivity to Central Asia.

Again, China’s role in this diplomatic recalibration cannot be overstated. It was Beijing that facilitated dialogue between Chinese, Pakistani, and Afghan foreign ministers. And it is China that has endorsed the extension of the CPEC into Afghanistan: an ambitious vision contingent on border stability and Taliban cooperation. This triangulation offers Islamabad economic diplomacy, pressuring Kabul while anchoring Pakistan’s regional relevance.

But the risks are profound. Even now.

The Taliban deny harbouring the TTP, despite UN estimates of thousands of fighters in eastern Afghanistan. Pakistan’s cross-border strikes, while intended as deterrents, have so far yielded diplomatic friction rather than strategic clarity. And the Durand Line hangs heavy in the air, unresolved-a cartographic ghost haunting bilateral ties, as the Taliban, like their predecessors, refuse to recognize it.

However, total disengagement would be far worse. It would deepen mistrust, embolden militants, and concede strategic space to rivals like India, which has quietly resumed high-level contacts with Kabul. Cautious, conditional engagement remains the only viable corridor for influence.

Islamabad must be clear-eyed: the Taliban will not become an extension of its security doctrine, but with sustained pressure and patient diplomacy, they might yet become a partner in managing shared threats. The road ahead is fraught with mistrust; in both diplomacy and warfare, one must negotiate not with friends but with adversaries. *


Clearing Katcha

The recovery of a kidnapped child and two men from Sindh’s Katcha area offers yet another reminder of a grim, unresolved truth: large swathes of Pakistani territory remain under the de facto control of criminal syndicates.

The Katcha belt, a forested no-man’s-land along the Indus in southern Punjab and upper Sindh, has long served as a sanctuary for dacoits armed with military-grade weapons and protected by feudal and political networks. Decades of piecemeal operations have failed to secure lasting peace, transforming what was once a policing challenge into a national disgrace. Unless Pakistan’s security and civil authorities coordinate to eradicate this bandit ecosystem, we will continue to bury our police in bulletproof coffins and ransom our citizens with silence.

The terrain of Katcha may be difficult, but the bigger obstacle is man-made: a toxic nexus between criminal gangs, tribal powerbrokers, and corrupt elements within law enforcement. Dacoits control illegal timber and land trades, run smuggling routes, and collect protection money. They occupy state forestland and private farmland with impunity. Their videos flood social media, taunting the state, and often, they operate with the quiet complicity of local elites.

Even when the state mobilizes, its actions are frustratingly cyclical. Grand operations are launched after every high-profile attack, complete with armoured vehicles, drones, and front-page pledges of zero tolerance. Yet, within months, the hideouts resurface, the gangs regroup, and the violence returns. The reality is damning: Pakistan has launched six major crackdowns in Katcha since 2006. Not one has resulted in permanent stability.

Why? Because while tactical action is deployed, strategic continuity is not. Police officers are rotated. Political will dissipates. And the structural enablers–feudal patrons, complicit officials, absentee governance–are never touched. When powerful leaders provide cover for criminal gangs in return for illicit revenue or electoral muscle, what chance does the ordinary citizen have?

It is no longer enough to kill or capture a few dacoits and claim success. The entire criminal infrastructure, from top to bottom, must be systematically dismantled. This demands establishing permanent, fortified security outposts throughout the Katcha belt, securing the terrain with year-round, relentless patrols, and, most crucially, ruthlessly prosecuting those within the system who enable the parallel order-be they sardars, SSPs, or MNAs. Justice should be blind to rank and influence.

To their credit, both Sindh and Punjab police have recently shown resolve. In Khairpur, Ghotki, and Rahim Yar Khan, operations have grown sharper and more technologically equipped, using drone surveillance, armoured personnel carriers, and precision intelligence. But we are still nowhere near “peace.”

The state would have to decide (now) whether it intends to govern all of Pakistan or merely parts of it. If Katcha is to be reclaimed, it needs to be done with total clarity, total commitment, and total control. *


Cybersecurity Catastrophe

By the time the National Cyber Crime Investigation Agency acknowledged that over 180 million login credentials had been compromised in one of the largest data breaches in Pakistan’s history, the digital bloodbath had already spilt across the dark web. However, the state’s response to a systemic collapse–a calamity years, even decades, in the making–has been a deafening silence laced with shrugs.Travel guides

The numbers alone are staggering. Official statements confirm the breach includes passwords and login credentials for platforms such as Google, Microsoft, and Facebook, with Pakistani users as primary targets. But this is merely the tip of a colossal iceberg. If 180 million credentials were exposed, even factoring in duplicates and dormant accounts, it suggests that a colossal portion of Pakistan’s digitally active population now stands dangerously vulnerable. The grand “Digital Pakistan Vision,” so loudly announced with Twitter hashtags and PowerPoint decks, is crumbling under the unforgiving weight of its negligence.

Where is Pakistan’s functional National CERT (Computer Emergency Response Team) other than its political grandstanding? Where is the proactive threat intelligence that should anticipate and neutralize threats before they metastasize? The Federal Investigation Agency’s cybercrime wing is reportedly underfunded, undertrained, and dangerously overburdened. An entire nation’s digital identity is being weaponised, and the very institutions tasked with its protection appear to be analogue relics attempting to fight a digital war.

Can we be naive enough to call it an isolated episode. Pakistan ranks a dismal 79th out of 182 countries in the ITU Global Cybersecurity Index (2020), languishing far below regional peers like India and Bangladesh. While India aggressively invests in AI-powered cyber defence infrastructure, Pakistan remains stubbornly devoid of a single national framework that governs how state institutions, private companies, and ISPs should protect or share sensitive data. It’s a policy void that breeds chaos.

Worse still, the concept of data sovereignty remains a cruel joke. From the infamous NADRA leaks to the recurring failures of Safe City projects in Islamabad and Lahore (where CCTV feeds were reportedly left unencrypted and vulnerable), a dangerous pattern has emerged. We outsource critical surveillance infrastructure without establishing binding data protocols. We centralise sensitive biometric data in outdated servers with little to no penetration testing. We launch ambitious e-governance tools without fundamental end-to-end encryption. All in all, nothing more than a façade of digital theatre created for optics and some more optics. Such breaches were inevitable not because hackers are unusually sophisticated but because Pakistan’s digital architecture is not a wall. At present, it’s a wet cardboard cutout. *