Sajjad Ahmad
When U.S. forces withdrew from Afghanistan in August 2021, Washington’s longest war finally ended — but the region’s turbulence did not. The departure closed one chapter of conflict yet opened another defined by uncertainty, rivalry, and recalibration. For Afghanistan’s neighbors, especially Pakistan, America’s exit was both liberation and burden — freeing the region from foreign oversight but exposing it to its own unresolved ghosts.
The Taliban’s lightning return to power transformed the region overnight. America’s military footprint vanished, but its influence endured — through sanctions, aid controls, and diplomacy. The U.S.-backed government that collapsed so swiftly had been weakened by corruption, factionalism, and a dependence on foreign protection. In its wake rose a regime seeking legitimacy at home and recognition abroad. But with its arrival came familiar anxieties: terrorism, extremism, and a fragile state on Pakistan’s doorstep.
Islamabad initially viewed the Taliban’s victory with quiet satisfaction. Many hoped that a friendly Kabul might curb India’s sway and unlock new routes of trade and transit. That optimism, however, soon eroded. The Tehrik-i-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) intensified attacks from Afghan soil; the Taliban refused to act decisively; and the century-old border dispute along the Durand Line reignited. Instead of partnership, Islamabad found itself managing fresh volatility under the shadow of old expectations.
The Durand Line — a colonial relic still unrecognized by Afghan leaders — remains the most visible fault line. Each side blames the other for cross-border violence. Afghan officials deny harboring militants; Pakistan accuses Kabul of inaction. Trade is interrupted, tempers flare, and trust remains elusive. Without a mutually accepted border regime, both nations risk being trapped in the same cycle of confrontation that has defined their history.
America may have left Afghanistan, but it has not left the game. Its tools have merely changed form. Through financial controls and sanctions, Washington retains leverage; European donors prevent total economic collapse; and aid agencies maintain a fragile humanitarian lifeline. Meanwhile, other powers — Russia, Iran, and China — have rushed to fill the void, each pursuing its own interests.
Tensions resurfaced recently when former U.S. President Donald Trump demanded that the Taliban hand over the Bagram Air Base — the vast military hub north of Kabul once at the heart of America’s operations. Trump argued that regaining Bagram would help the U.S. counter China’s regional ascent. Kabul responded swiftly: Taliban spokesman Zabihullah Mujahid declared that “no inch of Afghan soil will ever be handed to foreign powers.”
This time, the region found rare unity. Pakistan, China, Russia, Iran — and even India — opposed any renewed American presence. At Moscow’s recent multilateral talks, Islamabad joined others in stressing Afghan sovereignty. Beijing warned that a U.S. base would only reignite instability. For all their rivalries, no country wanted a return to the old geopolitical hierarchy. America’s withdrawal may be complete, but its shadow still defines the board.
India and China remain Afghanistan’s most consequential external players. India’s investments in infrastructure and education once made it a key partner for Kabul’s previous government. Pakistan, however, viewed those ties through a lens of encirclement. Though India’s influence waned after 2021, New Delhi has cautiously reopened channels, wary of ceding space entirely to Beijing or Islamabad.
China, by contrast, sees opportunities where others see peril. Through the Belt and Road Initiative and the China–Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC), Beijing envisions Afghanistan as a natural bridge between South and Central Asia. It has secured mining rights, held quiet diplomacy with the Taliban, and floated a trilateral framework with Pakistan. For Islamabad, such engagement offers the chance to shift its Afghan policy from security to economics — if stability can be achieved.
Pakistan–Afghanistan relations cannot rest solely on security calculations. What both nations need is an architecture for cooperation — a joint mechanism to handle cross-border militancy, intelligence sharing, and economic integration. Trade corridors could turn suspicion into mutual gain, while connecting Afghanistan to CPEC would open it to regional commerce and investment.
Equally vital is rebuilding trust from below. Millions of Afghans have lived in Pakistan for decades; countless families span both sides of the frontier. Educational exchanges, cultural programs, and humane visa policies could renew the human connections that politics has eroded. Peace, after all, cannot be negotiated only in ministries — it must also live in people’s everyday encounters.
The region now faces a clear choice. In one scenario, Afghanistan stabilizes, curbs militancy, and joins emerging regional networks — allowing Pakistan and Afghanistan to transform a history of friction into one of partnerships. In the darker alternative, militancy festers, foreign interference deepens, and both countries sink back into a cycle of hostility that the U.S. withdrawal was supposed to end.
For Pakistan, the outcome will define more than policy — it will shape its national trajectory. A peaceful Afghanistan promises trade, connectivity, and a chance at regional leadership. A destabilized one threatens insecurity and economic paralysis. The stakes are enormous, not only for Islamabad and Kabul but for the entire arc of South Asia.
America’s departure left behind both a vacuum and a possibility. Whether Pakistan and Afghanistan seize that opportunity or surrender it to history’s repetition will determine the true legacy of the Afghan war — and the balance of power in the region for years to come.
