Prelude: A new tremor on the Durand Line. The strike you didn’t see on the evening news.
They say geography is frozen politics — but on the Afghanistan-Pakistan frontier, the lines are still molten, shifting with every strike, every whispered alliance, every ideological recalibration. In early October 2025, a string of violent clashes erupted along the Afghanistan–Pakistan border. Islamabad claimed it had struck Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) hideouts based on U.S.-supplied ground intelligence. Kabul retaliated, killing over 60 Pakistani personnel near the Arghoo sector.
Behind these headlines lies a far deeper story — not of isolated border skirmishes, but of ideological shifts, proxy experiments, and a covert struggle between Islamabad’s ambitions, Kabul’s defiance, and New Delhi’s quiet re-entry into Afghanistan’s geopolitical theatre.
To understand this modern playbook, one must travel back nearly five decades — to the original factories of jihad.
Act I — 1970s: The birth of a global proxy system
In the 1970s, Afghanistan was ruled by King Mohammed Zahir Shah, a monarch more interested in European medical treatment than domestic governance. His frequent absences gave Pakistan’s intelligence agency, the Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI), an opportunity: cultivate Islamist networks inside Afghanistan as a hedge against future instability.
At the same time, the United States, reeling from its humiliating defeat in Vietnam, sought revenge against its Cold War nemesis — the Soviet Union. Pakistan offered a plan:
“If you want to hurt Moscow, use our soil to ignite jihad in Afghanistan.”
Washington agreed. Saudi Arabia joined in. Together, this unlikely triad built the most potent covert operation of the 20th century: a jihad pipeline that birthed the Mujahideen, and with them, the ideological DNA of Al-Qaeda.
Act II — 1980s: The Jihad Assembly Line
Throughout the 1980s, the CIA’s Operation Cyclone funneled billions in arms and cash to the Mujahideen via the ISI. The weapons — Stinger missiles, AK-47s, and truckloads of Saudi money — flowed seamlessly from Karachi ports to the mountains of Kunar and Helmand.
But along with guns came ideology. Saudi clerics exported Wahhabism, an austere form of Islam intolerant of other interpretations. In Pakistan’s tribal belts, this Wahhabi strain was fused with the Deobandi tradition, creating what analysts later called a “hybrid radicalism” — the Wahhabi-Deobandi jihadist synthesis.
It was this ideological cocktail that shaped three key networks:
- The Haqqani Network, led by Jalaluddin Haqqani — a tribal warlord and ISI favorite.
- The Taliban’s embryonic cadres, Deobandi students trained in madrassas across southern Afghanistan and Pakistan.
- Al-Qaeda, founded in 1988 by Osama bin Laden, emerging as the global arm of this localized jihad.
By 1988, the Soviets withdrew from Afghanistan — defeated, exhausted, and humiliated. The Americans celebrated, the ISI expanded its ambitions, and the jihad factories — suddenly jobless — looked for a new enemy.
They found one in the West itself.
Act III — 1990s: The Taliban’s rise and Al-Qaeda’s mutation
When the Soviets retreated, Afghanistan fractured into warlord chaos. Into that vacuum stepped a one-eyed cleric — Mullah Mohammad Omar — and his Taliban movement.
The Taliban promised order and purity, enforcing strict Sharia law while pledging loyalty to their Pakistani patrons.
Meanwhile, Al-Qaeda transformed under Osama bin Laden. Betrayed by Washington’s abandonment and radicalized by Wahhabi dogma, Bin Laden shifted the jihad’s target from “near enemies” (local regimes) to “far enemies” — chiefly, the United States.
Al-Qaeda’s ideology was global; the Taliban’s was local.
Between 1996 and 2001, Taliban 1.0 ruled Afghanistan as a theocracy — a sanctuary for Al-Qaeda to plan global operations. The partnership was transactional:
- The Taliban provided territory.
- Al-Qaeda provided funding, training, and propaganda reach.
This dark alliance climaxed on September 11, 2001, when Al-Qaeda struck New York and Washington.
The Taliban refused to surrender Bin Laden. Within weeks, the U.S. invaded Afghanistan.
Act IV — 2001–2011: The American wars and Pakistan’s double game
The U.S. invasion toppled the Taliban but failed to destroy the ecosystem that birthed them. Fighters, clerics, and trainers simply crossed the border — slipping into Pakistan’s Federally Administered Tribal Areas (FATA), notably Khyber Pakhtunkhwa and Balochistan.
The Americans pressured Pakistan’s military ruler Pervez Musharraf to join the “Global War on Terror.” Publicly, he agreed. Privately, ISI protected the very networks Washington sought to destroy.
The result was an extraordinary paradox:
- Pakistan hunted Al-Qaeda when it suited American optics.
- Yet it shielded Taliban commanders for “strategic depth” against India.
- The same tribal belts hosted U.S. drone strikes and ISI training camps simultaneously.
By 2007, a new monster was born: the Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP).
Comprised mostly of Pakistani Pashtuns radicalized by American bombings and Islamabad’s duplicity, the TTP declared war — not on Washington, but on Pakistan itself.
The state that once bred jihad now faced its own creation’s gun.
Act V — 2011–2019: Al-Qaeda declines, ISIS rises, and ISIS-K mutates
The killing of Osama bin Laden in Abbottabad (2011) exposed Pakistan’s duplicity to the world. Al-Qaeda’s command was shattered; yet from its ashes rose something darker: the Islamic State (ISIS).
Led by Abu Bakr al-Baghdadi, ISIS rejected Al-Qaeda’s patient strategy of distant targets. Instead, it sought immediate territorial control — the Caliphate — first in Iraq and Syria, then beyond.
By 2015, ISIS had proclaimed its regional arm in South-Central Asia: the Islamic State of Khorasan Province (ISIS-K), headquartered in eastern Afghanistan.
ISIS-K recruited disillusioned TTP fighters, Uzbek jihadists, and rogue Taliban factions. It promised glory, power, and revenge. Its recruits weren’t ideologues — they were survivors of twenty years of endless wars.
Between 2015 and 2020, ISIS-K became the most violent organization in the region, targeting everyone: NATO, the Taliban, Pakistan, even local civilians.
U.S. airstrikes and Taliban counteroffensives decimated its leadership — but not its ideology. The Khorasan dream of a borderless Islamic empire outlived its founders.
Act VI — 2020–2021: The American exit and Taliban 2.0
By 2020, America was exhausted. Two decades of counterinsurgency had cost trillions. The Taliban, meanwhile, negotiated cleverly in Doha, promising moderation for legitimacy.
When U.S. troops withdrew in 2021, the Taliban stormed Kabul once again — Taliban 2.0 had arrived.
But this time, something fundamental had changed.
The new Taliban leadership was divided between:
- The Haqqani Network, led by Sirajuddin Haqqani — hardline, ISI-backed, Wahhabi-leaning.
- The Kandahari Taliban, rooted in traditional Deobandi thought, more nationalistic and wary of Pakistan.
- The Doha faction, diplomatically polished and keen to build ties with countries like India, Iran, and Russia.
This internal tug-of-war would define Afghanistan’s next chapter.
For India, the rise of a pragmatic, India-tolerant Taliban was an opportunity.
For Pakistan, it was a nightmare.
Act VII — 2022–2025: The hybridization of jihad
As Afghanistan stabilized under the new Taliban regime, Pakistan’s ISI began losing leverage. The Taliban refused to act as Islamabad’s puppets; they cultivated independent ties with New Delhi and Tehran.
In retaliation, the ISI began experimenting with a new hybrid model of proxy warfare.
The formula:
ISIS-K’s ruthlessness + Lashkar-e-Taiba’s networks + ISI’s logistics = plausible deniability.
According to intelligence assessments shared within Indian strategic circles, Islamabad’s latest gambit involves reactivating disillusioned ISIS-K and TTP fighters by pairing them with the LeT’s charitable infrastructure (such as Jamaat-ud-Dawa’s social fronts).
The mission: deploy these operatives into Balochistan to suppress separatist movements — under the guise of “religious purification.”
Why Balochistan?
Because it’s Pakistan’s paradox: resource-rich, yet rebellious.
The Baloch tribes have resisted Islamabad’s control for decades, demanding autonomy or independence. The ISI’s hope is to use militant “purifiers” to crush that dissent while claiming to target “anti-Islamic” elements.
This is not counterterrorism — it’s outsourcing repression.
Act VIII — The Balochistan–Kashmir Connection
Here’s where it becomes alarming for India.
The Balochistan experiment is a pilot project.
If Pakistan successfully uses ISIS-K and LeT in tandem to create “controlled chaos” and seize territory, the same model could be replicated in Kashmir.
The playbook is chillingly efficient:
- Use religious extremists (ISIS-K veterans) to destabilize regions.
- Use NGO fronts (LeT’s civic arms) to establish presence and legitimacy.
- Claim “loss of control” and invite external mediation or U.S. interest in “counterterrorism.”
- Weaponize chaos — then negotiate from it.
This is modern hybrid warfare — where statecraft, terrorism, and diplomacy blur into one continuous operation.
Act IX — The Taliban’s quiet divergence from Pakistan
The irony is that the Taliban, once Pakistan’s most obedient creation, now increasingly defies it.
Kabul’s leadership — especially Foreign Minister Amir Khan Muttaqi — has repeatedly stressed the “original Deobandi” identity of the Afghan Taliban, distinct from the Wahhabi-Deobandi hybrid of Pakistan’s Haqqani schools.
Muttaqi’s recent public visit to India and his symbolic request to visit Darul Uloom Deoband in Uttar Pradesh was not mere optics — it was a message.
A message to Pakistan:
“Our ideological roots lie in India’s Deoband, not in your Wahhabi madrassas.”
For Islamabad, this is a nightmare scenario — a Taliban friendly to New Delhi and proud of its Indian-origin theological heritage.
Thus, while Pakistan meddles with ISIS-K in Balochistan, India quietly deepens its strategic depth in Kabul, reopening embassies, funding infrastructure, and engaging tribal intermediaries.
The game has turned.
Act X — Inside the ISI’s new playbook
Modern-day Islamabad operates less like a conventional state and more like a proxy portfolio manager.
When one proxy (Taliban) turns unprofitable, it invests in another (ISIS-K or LeT).
But the underlying goal remains:
- Keep Afghanistan unstable enough to prevent Indian influence.
- Keep Balochistan fragmented enough to exploit resources.
- Keep Kashmir boiling enough to retain international attention.
According to multiple global think-tank assessments (see Chatham House, BBC, and Reuters), Pakistan’s military establishment now uses a two-tier structure:
- Hard proxies — militants like ISIS-K and TTP.
- Soft proxies — NGOs, religious fronts, and social charities linked to LeT and Jamaat-ud-Dawa.
This dual structure allows ISI to switch narratives: from humanitarianism to jihad, from victimhood to vengeance, depending on which audience it needs to persuade.
Act XI — India’s response and strategic clarity
India has been patient, but not passive.
Over the last two years, New Delhi has:
- Reopened its Kabul mission under the “technical office” framework.
- Expanded humanitarian projects and education links.
- Deepened quiet dialogue with Taliban officials outside the Haqqani faction.
- Strengthened intelligence-sharing with Central Asian partners to monitor ISIS-K movements.
Indian strategic circles view Afghanistan not as a lost cause, but as a forward warning post.
Kabul’s airspace and intelligence networks offer early indicators of jihadist mobilization — critical for preempting cross-border infiltration.
Moreover, India’s diplomatic presence counters China’s growing influence, giving Delhi both moral legitimacy and regional intelligence advantage.
Act XII — What history teaches us
From Al-Qaeda’s global jihad to ISIS’s Caliphate and Pakistan’s “hybrid” doctrines, one pattern is clear:
Every attempt to weaponize ideology for short-term gains ends up producing monsters that turn on their masters.
- Al-Qaeda was born from U.S.–Pakistan collusion and destroyed U.S. cities.
- Taliban 1.0 served Pakistan but resurrected as an India-tolerant regime.
- ISIS-K, built from TTP and Wahhabi radicals, now threatens Pakistani control itself.
- TTP, once a pawn, is today Pakistan’s greatest internal enemy.
Every proxy has mutated. Every manipulation has backfired.
Why the TTP is different — the sleeper that wakes when you bomb the wrong valley
The TTP is not Al-Qaeda; it is not ISIS-K; and it is not a single ideological movement. It is a decentralized, tribalized fighting network that slashes at the Pakistani state because — in many cases — it sees state institutions as betrayers or occupiers. Two features make it uniquely dangerous to Pakistan:
- Operational diffusion. TTP cells are embedded among Pashtun communities on both sides of the Durand Line. Mountains, caves and kinship ties make tracking and targeting nearly impossible without risking collateral harm.
- Local grievance core. Many recruits are driven less by global jihad ideology and more by local revenge, displacement, and anger at heavy-handed counterinsurgency.
When Islamabad undertakes kinetic operations in border zones, the risk of alienating ethnic Pashtun communities — creating more recruits — is very real. That’s why some Pakistani planners reportedly prefer the proxy-plus-deniability model.
The Baloch hypothesis — why Balochistan matters (and how it links to Kashmir)
Balochistan is Pakistan’s largest and wealthiest province in natural resources, and historically one of the most restive. ISI uses LeT + ISIS-K to suppress Baloch separatism and — critically — to create an environment that invites external stakeholders (and more friction). Two malicious strategic possibilities emerge:
- Territorial carve-outs as leverage. If militants capture and hold “pockets” in Balochistan, those zones could become bargaining chips in negotiations or prisms for foreign intervention; resource control could be redirected.
- Tactical replication in Kashmir. If the LeT + ISIS-K template proves “useful” in Balochistan, the same methods — small territorial grabs, terror-led governance punctuated by deniable state support — could be adapted to Kashmir: foment instability, seize pockets, create governance vacuums that justify external involvement.
Act XIII — The next decade: Hybrid warfronts and India’s shield
Looking ahead, three scenarios define South Asia’s security horizon:
- Balochistan becomes Pakistan’s bleeding wound.
If ISIS-K and LeT continue their dual operations there, it could spark internal insurgencies that even Islamabad’s army can’t contain. - Afghanistan stabilizes under Taliban 2.0.
As long as the Taliban maintains internal unity and economic deals with India, China, and Iran, Afghanistan might act as a counterweight to Pakistan’s adventurism. - Kashmir faces a “proxy revival.”
The hybrid Balochistan model — blending radical ideology and NGO networks — could reappear in Kashmir. That’s why Indian vigilance and early containment are essential.
Conclusion — The empire of shadows
The story that began with the CIA’s anti-Soviet jihad in the 1970s has come full circle.
The jihad that once served superpower rivalries has evolved into a self-replicating system — adaptable, deniable, and transnational.
Pakistan’s deep state continues to believe it can control this beast.
But the more it feeds it, the more it loses control.
Meanwhile, India’s challenge is not only to defend its borders but to understand the ecosystem of instability across the Durand Line — an ecosystem where religion, power, and resource geopolitics merge into one continuous war.
If Afghanistan is the chessboard, Balochistan the testing ground, and Kashmir the prize, then the real contest is not for land — it’s for narrative, legitimacy, and endurance.
In that sense, the hybrid war has already begun.
Only those who understand its origin will be ready for its end.
Suggested references for readers
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