New Delhi, Nov 21 (IANS) The history of US-Pakistan relations illustrate one of the most paradoxical alliances in modern geopolitics: a superpower that continuously funded, armed, and politically legitimized a state whose security establishment simultaneously fostered the very militant ecosystems that would later threaten American, Indian, Afghan, and global security.
This contradiction — rooted in Cold War priorities, sustained through post-9/11 calculations, and shaped by Pakistan’s military-driven strategic doctrines –exposes how international patronage can inadvertently strengthen networks capable of producing catastrophic attacks such as the 2008 Mumbai assault.
A deeper examination of this relationship, grounded in historical data and security evidence, raises the critical question of whether similar 26/11-type events could occur again under conditions that remain structurally unchanged. US–Pakistan ties took shape in the early Cold War years, when Washington sought military footholds to counter Soviet influence across Asia.
Pakistan, newly independent and searching for strategic allies, found in the United States a willing patron. Between 1954 and 1965 alone, Washington provided Pakistan more than $2.5 billion in economic and military assistance, with roughly 60% of this aid directed toward the armed forces. American weapons—F-86 Sabre jets, M-47 Patton tanks, artillery systems—quickly transformed Pakistan’s military capacity.
However, the deeper impact was institutional — US assistance reinforced the Pakistan Army’s centrality in national politics, undermining civilian authority and contributing to successive military coups. By the time General Ayub Khan seized power in 1958, Pakistan’s military establishment was not only dominant but also deeply embedded in the country’s foreign policy outlook, particularly regarding India. The Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in 1979 further intensified this alliance.
The CIA’s Operation Cyclone, one of the largest covert programs in its history, funneled billions of dollars into Pakistan. Estimates place U.S. contributions at $3.2 billion during the 1980s, matched by roughly the same amount from Saudi Arabia. This funding, channeled largely through Pakistan’s Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI), supported the training and arming of more than 100,000 mujahideen fighters. The intention was clear: turn Afghanistan into the Soviet Union’s quagmire. Yet the consequences were far more expansive.
Pakistan’s security establishment selectively supported Islamist factions that aligned with its strategic interests, especially those capable of projecting influence into Afghanistan and later into Kashmir.
The militant infrastructure — the training camps near Peshawar, the radical madrassas in the northwest, the logistical corridors through tribal areas — became permanent fixtures, outliving the Soviet withdrawal. This transformation was not simply collateral damage; it was strategically cultivated.
The Pakistan Army’s doctrine of “asymmetric warfare” against India, combined with its pursuit of “strategic depth” in Afghanistan, created incentives to preserve and deploy militant groups as instruments of foreign policy. Lashkar-e-Taiba (LeT), founded in 1987 with ideological and logistical roots in the Afghan jihad, became one of the primary beneficiaries of this environment. Though the U.S. never directly funded LeT, the broader military-intelligence ecosystem—strengthened through U.S. patronage—allowed LeT to grow into a highly disciplined, militarized organization capable of executing cross-border operations with precision.
After 9/11, the U.S.–Pakistan relationship entered another high-stakes phase. Washington designated Pakistan a “major non-NATO ally,” providing more than $33 billion in aid between 2002 and 2018. Of this, $14.6 billion came in the form of Coalition Support Funds (CSF) meant to reimburse Pakistan for counterterrorism operations. Yet multiple U.S. audits revealed extensive misuse and misreporting.
The Government Accountability Office and Pentagon oversight bodies documented that Pakistan diverted CSF money to purchase conventional military equipment—F-16 upgrades, naval modernization, anti-ship missiles—none of which addressed the counterinsurgency challenges in Afghanistan or the internal militancy problem. Instead, this strengthened the Pakistan Army’s traditional posture against India while leaving intact the selective militant networks that Islamabad deemed assets rather than threats.
The consequences became evident as the Afghan Taliban rebounded throughout the 2004–2018 period. U.S. military commanders repeatedly testified before Congress that Taliban leaders operated from sanctuaries in Pakistan, specifically the Quetta Shura and Peshawar Shura. These safe havens contributed to the deaths of more than 2,400 American soldiers and tens of thousands of Afghan civilians. Despite receiving billions in U.S. aid, Pakistan’s military establishment maintained its dual policy: aggressive action against anti-state militants like Tehrik-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP), and permissive or supportive behavior toward groups aligned with its external goals, including the Afghan Taliban, Haqqani network, LeT, and Jaish-e-Mohammed (JeM).
This selective approach is not an allegation, but a pattern documented by scholars such as C. Christine Fair, Hussain Haqqani, and numerous U.S. intelligence assessments. The 26/11 Mumbai attack demonstrated the extent to which this militant ecosystem could project violence far beyond South Asia’s battlefield margins. The assault, which killed 166 people over three days, showcased training, coordination, and operational sophistication rarely seen outside state-assisted terrorism. David Coleman Headley, the Pakistani-American operative who conducted reconnaissance for the attacks, admitted in U.S. court that he received training at LeT camps and interacted with individuals connected to Pakistan’s security establishment.
Several planners of the attack, including Zaki-ur-Rehman Lakhvi, operated visibly within Pakistan for years—arrested only under international pressure and often released under opaque judicial processes. U.S. Treasury designations between 2010 and 2018 repeatedly named Pakistan-based LeT operatives, charities, and funding nodes, underscoring the persistent ecosystem that enabled the attack. Pakistan has undoubtedly suffered tremendously from terrorism. Over 70,000 Pakistanis, including civilians and soldiers, were killed in terror violence between 2001 and 2020. Major military operations such as Zarb-e-Azb (2014) and Radd-ul-Fasaad (2017) significantly reduced attacks inside Pakistan by targeting anti-state militants. However, these campaigns maintained the structural distinction between groups that threaten Pakistan internally and those used for external leverage. This dichotomy allowed LeT, JeM, and elements of the Afghan Taliban to survive—even as Pakistan publicly committed to counterterrorism under U.S. and Financial Action Task Force (FATF) pressure.
This selective counterterrorism is central to understanding the ongoing risks of another 26/11-type event. Although Pakistan has taken steps to restrict the activities of certain militant groups, especially under FATF supervision from 2018 to 2022, these measures remain fragmented and reversible. The ideological infrastructure remains largely intact: networks of radical madrassas, veteran trainers from decades of conflict, logistical safe houses, and diaspora-linked financing channels. The organizational DNA of groups like L eT—a disciplined chain of command, military-style training, and operational secrecy—has not been erased. These conditions are far more resilient than tactical bans or symbolic arrests. Moreover, the geopolitical incentives for Pakistan’s security establishment remain largely unchanged. India’s rising global profile—economically, diplomatically, and militarily—intensifies Pakistan’s reliance on asymmetric strategies.
The Pakistan Army’s institutional dominance over foreign policy means these strategies are deeply embedded, not easily abandoned. Even if direct support decreases, passive tolerance or covert facilitation of certain groups can enable them to survive, regroup, or innovate. In an era of drone technology, encrypted communication, and decentralized networks, the possibilities for a future attack are more diffuse and harder to detect.
A 26/11-type event does not require identical conditions; it requires only that a militant group possess the intent, some operational capability, and a permissive or fragmented security environment. Pakistan’s history of selective enforcement creates exactly such an environment. While Islamabad has made commitments under FATF and international pressure, the durability of these reforms remains uncertain. Past behavior—both during and after foreign aid cycles—suggests that once external scrutiny subsides, Pakistan’s security establishment often recalibrates rather than reforms.
The long arc of U.S.–Pakistan relations thus reveal a troubling pattern: American patronage consistently strengthened Pakistan’s military institutions while doing little to align their strategic priorities with global security concerns. This misalignment allowed militant networks to thrive under a shield of deniability. The ecosystem that once produced 26/11 was not an aberration but a by-product of systemic policies, and unless those systems fundamentally change, the risk of future large-scale attacks cannot be dismissed as remote.
–IANS
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