(Arif Yusufzai)
Pakistan today stands at a perilous crossroads where the erosion of state authority, the weakening of institutions and the collapse of accountability have created a fertile ground for militancy, smuggling and organised crime. Khyber Pakhtunkhwa (KP), more than any other province, reflects this dangerous reality. The province has become a frontline case study of how administrative gaps, compromised policing, weak prosecution and dysfunctional courts collectively produce what can only be described as a “soft state” one that criminals, smugglers and terrorists exploit with alarming ease.
In any functioning state, institutions form the backbone of order. Courts ensure justice, police enforce the law, and the bureaucracy implements governance. When these pillars weaken, crime does not merely increase it institutionalises itself. Terrorists, smugglers and criminal mafias do not need to overthrow the state; they simply occupy the vacuum left behind by its failures. This is precisely what has happened in Pakistan, and KP is one of the clearest manifestations of this collapse.
Pakistan today operates within what can be described as an “illegal spectrum” a vast, interconnected web of crime, smuggling, corruption and militancy that is not confined to one city, one province or one border region. It stretches from urban centres to border crossings, from markets to police stations, from courtrooms to corridors of power. This illegal spectrum has given Pakistan a damaging reputation internationally not merely as a country facing security challenges, but as one perceived to be soft on crime, soft on corruption and dangerously inconsistent in enforcing the rule of law.
This “soft image” does not imply weakness in rhetoric or force alone; rather, it reflects a deeper reality where laws exist but are negotiable, arrests occur but convictions do not, and accountability is promised but rarely delivered. In such an environment, criminals thrive. Smuggling mafias operate openly, terrorism financing flows unchecked, and organised crime integrates itself into the political and administrative fabric of the state.
KP’s tragedy is compounded by decades of political experimentation. Pakistan has effectively been turned into a political laboratory where parties are rotated in and out of power without addressing structural decay. Each new government promises reform, merit and justice, yet the underlying systems remain untouched. As a result, the fear of law the most essential deterrent against crime has evaporated from society.
When politicians, ministers and officials know that corruption will go unpunished, when they are confident that even if arrested they can “manage” the system, the consequences are devastating. This mindset emboldens not only white-collar corruption but also empowers militant groups and smuggling networks that depend on state complicity to survive. In KP, this complicity is no longer hidden; it is visible in markets flooded with smuggled goods, in borders bleeding revenue, and in cities where criminal dens operate openly.
The police, ironically, possess the most intimate knowledge of crime in society. At the grassroots level, police stations know exactly where gambling dens operate, where narcotics are sold, where smuggled goods are stored and who runs these networks. Yet these operations continue unabated. Why? Because law enforcement itself is often compromised. When the police are either unwilling or unable to act or worse, when they become partners in crime the entire justice chain collapses.
The failure does not end there. When criminals are arrested, weak investigations and poor prosecution ensure that cases collapse in court. Judges are left with little evidence, witnesses turn hostile, and the accused walk free. Each acquittal reinforces a dangerous belief among criminals: that Pakistan’s law is for sale. That justice can be bought. That the writ of the state is hollow.
This belief is perhaps the most lethal weapon against the state. Once criminals lose fear of the law, crime becomes an investment, not a risk. Smuggling turns into a billion-rupee enterprise. Terror financing becomes routine. Militants find protection, funding and logistical support within criminal networks that flourish under administrative neglect.
KP’s experience under prolonged governance by Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) further underscores this systemic failure. For over a decade, PTI ruled the province on the promise of “change”, justice, merit and transparency. These slogans resonated deeply with a population exhausted by corruption and misgovernance. Yet slogans cannot substitute for institutional reform.
The reality, as witnessed by the public, was starkly different. Corruption did not disappear; it merely changed hands. Nepotism persisted. Governance remained weak. The rhetoric of “one Pakistan” collapsed under the weight of selective accountability and administrative paralysis. Even senior PTI leaders publicly acknowledged massive corruption in KP under previous governments admissions that inadvertently implicated their own administrations as well.
The misuse of state resources, the spectacle of luxury and entitlement, and the visible disconnect between promises and practice eroded public trust further. When citizens see helicopters used casually while basic services crumble, the moral authority of the state evaporates. When justice is spoken of endlessly but rarely delivered, it becomes a hollow slogan.
This decay directly benefits militants. Terrorism does not thrive in strong states; it thrives in weak ones. Smuggling networks provide funding routes, logistical channels and safe havens for militant groups. Border corruption allows weapons, narcotics and fighters to move freely. Administrative apathy ensures that these networks remain intact.
Economically, the consequences are catastrophic. Smuggling drains revenue, undermines local industries and weakens the tax base. Corruption punches holes in the economy so large that no amount of reform rhetoric can plug them. Whatever the state earns falls into these black holes, leaving nothing for development, welfare or security. An economy bleeding internally cannot be saved by external loans or short-term fixes.
Pakistan’s greatest crisis, therefore, is not merely terrorism or militancy it is governance. Until those sitting in positions of power reform themselves, no external force can rescue the country. Accountability must begin at the top. The mafias that have entrenched themselves across society did not rise in isolation; they were enabled by those entrusted to govern.
The day Pakistan’s rulers, bureaucrats and law enforcers choose integrity over complicity will be the day real change begins. That day will restore fear of the law, revive public trust and dismantle the criminal ecosystems that threaten the state’s survival. Until then, Khyber Pakhtunkhwa and Pakistan as a whole will remain trapped in a cycle where administrative weakness feeds crime, crime feeds militancy, and militancy pushes the state closer to collapse.
Pakistan’s existence today is not threatened by external enemies alone. It is endangered from within by neglect, compromise and a collective failure to uphold the rule of law. Without urgent, genuine reform, the soft state will continue to harden into something far more dangerous: a state hollowed out from the inside.
