Irfan Khan
In the rugged borderlands of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, a familiar uncertainty is returning. Once again, communities find themselves trapped between the threat of militancy and the promise of peace. What’s different this time, however, is that the first line of resistance is not the state but the people. In areas like Tirah, Mamund, and Bajaur, locals have formed jirgas and issued direct ultimatums to armed militants, telling them to vacate civilian areas or face the consequences. The message is clear: your war is not welcome here.
Armed with nothing but the Holy Quran, the tribal elders have gone directly to militant groups, reportedly including foreign fighters, and pleaded with them to leave their villages. The militants were given a deadline August 5 to relocate to the mountains or return across the border to their areas of origin in Kunar or Nuristan. The motivation behind this extraordinary move is rooted in hard experience. These communities know that if the militants stay, the security forces will follow, and with them will come airstrikes, raids, and the inevitable collateral damage a loss they have endured too many times before.
But the response from the armed groups reveals the fundamental impasse: they told the jirga that the conflict can only end if Shariah is implemented in the region. The elders rejected this outright, stating that Pakistan is a constitutional democracy governed by its own laws, and such demands fall outside the bounds of what the state and its citizens can accept. This exchange encapsulates the central dilemma: Can traditional mechanisms of dialogue succeed when confronted with transnational ideological militancy?
The stakes could not be higher. If the deadline passes and the militants remain, the security establishment will be forced to act. With thousands of civilians still living in these areas, the humanitarian fallout of such operations could be severe. This situation is reminiscent of the 2009 Swat and Malakand crisis, when Maulana Sufi Muhammad’s Tehreek-e-Nifaz-e-Shariat-e-Muhammadi briefly seized control under the guise of a peace deal. Then too, the state was compelled to launch a massive operation that displaced over a million people. The operation eventually succeeded—but only after enormous social, economic, and psychological costs.
In today’s context, the situation is further complicated by external factors. Militants now operate with more advanced weaponry, including drones. A recent incident in Bannu saw terrorists using drones followed by small and heavy arms fire to attack a convoy. Fortunately, due to new jamming technology acquired by the KP Police, the attack was foiled. Inspector General Zulfiqar Hameed confirmed that the police are investing in more advanced equipment to meet this growing threat. But he was also candid: without sustained support and technological upgrades, the province may not be able to counter the evolving methods of these groups.
Amid the security crisis, another long-standing challenge is coming to a head: the status of unregistered Afghan refugees. Since the Taliban took power in Kabul in 2021, nearly 600,000 undocumented Afghan nationals have entered Pakistan, most settling in KP. According to the UNHCR, approximately 1.36 million registered Afghan refugees currently live in the country. But those without legal status exist in a parallel, invisible reality making it impossible for authorities to know their identities, locations, or intentions.
Over the past year, the presence of Afghan nationals has been confirmed in several terror-related incidents. Security officials have identified individuals killed in operations or arrested after attacks as Afghan citizens. In response, the KP government has now launched a decisive crackdown. Following the expiry of the federal deadline on July 31, provincial authorities have been instructed to remove all undocumented Afghan nationals from the province. Transit camps have been established in Peshawar and Torkham, with biometric and video documentation systems in place. This operation is being carried out under legal orders and with full logistical coordination.
The Afghan interim government has been repeatedly asked to restrain groups operating from its soil. So far, cooperation has been limited. However, the upcoming visit of the Afghan Foreign Minister to Islamabad on August 4 is expected to focus on two major issues: border management and the repatriation of Afghan refugees. Whether this visit will yield actionable commitments remains to be seen. But what is clear is that the Pakistani state can no longer afford to allow undocumented cross-border movement, nor tolerate the presence of armed non-state actors operating with impunity in its tribal belt.
Meanwhile, some have questioned whether military operations are the right response. At the All Parties Conference, concerns were raised—not in opposition to action but to emphasize that this is not one man’s decision. The crisis in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa is not a local dispute, nor a partisan issue. It is a national emergency. Among the parties that have suffered the most are the Awami National Party and Jamiat Ulema-e-Islam. Their leaders and workers have been consistently targeted in attacks claimed by groups like Daesh and ISKP, especially in Bajaur and South Waziristan.
As we move past the August 5 deadline, the future depends on the decisions made in the next few days. The people have spoken clearly—they want peace, and they are willing to negotiate, but not on terms that compromise the sovereignty or constitutional framework of Pakistan. The jirgas have done what they could. If the armed groups do not respect the will of the people, then the state must do what it must.
In this fight, moral clarity, political unity, and strategic resolve are essential. The people of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa have endured too much to be left alone once again.
