From waste challenge to climate solution: Pakistan…

For much of the past half-century, the Middle East was described in binaries: Arab and Israeli, Sunni and Shia, American ally and adversary. That framework is no longer sufficient. In the span of 18 months, two events have forced a fundamental reassessment of regional order: a Chinese-brokered handshake between Saudi Arabia and Iran in March 2023, and the eruption of war in Gaza in October 2023. Together, they have set in motion a realignment that is testing old alliances, elevating new mediators, and leaving the future of American-backed normalization efforts deeply uncertain.   The significance extends well beyond the region. How power is distributed between Riyadh, Tehran, Ankara, Cairo and Tel Aviv shapes global energy markets, maritime security in the Red Sea, nuclear non-proliferation, and great-power competition between the United States and China. What emerges is not a new stable order, but a fluid period of transactional diplomacy in which ideology is increasingly subordinated to regime survival and economic interest.   A Rapprochement Brokered in Beijing   The agreement announced on March 10, 2023, that Saudi Arabia and Iran would restore diplomatic relations after a seven-year rupture was remarkable less for its content than for its venue. The deal was negotiated over four days in Beijing, with China acting as guarantor.   The context was pragmatic. For Saudi Arabia, under Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, foreign policy has become inseparable from Vision 2030, an ambitious plan to diversify the economy away from oil. That vision requires regional calm. The years preceding the deal saw drone and missile attacks on Saudi oil infrastructure at Abqaiq and Khurais, a costly and inconclusive war in Yemen where Tehran backed the Houthi movement, and rising oil price volatility. De-escalation with Iran offered a path to contain those risks.   For Iran, the calculus was equally material. Facing stringent international sanctions, inflation above 40 percent at the time, and domestic unrest following the death of Mahsa Amini in 2022, Tehran sought diplomatic breathing room and economic openings, particularly with Gulf states that could provide investment and trade channels.   China’s role was both opportunistic and strategic. As the largest buyer of both Saudi and Iranian crude, Beijing had unique leverage and a direct interest in the stability of Gulf shipping lanes. The mediation allowed China to present itself as a responsible alternative to the United States, a power broker capable of delivering outcomes Washington could not, given its lack of diplomatic ties with Iran. Analysts in Washington and Brussels were quick to note the limits of this shift: China did not replace the U.S. security umbrella that Saudi Arabia and the Gulf states continue to rely on, nor did it offer a framework for resolving deeper sectarian and strategic rivalries. The agreement did not settle disputes over Yemen, Syria, Lebanon, or Iran’s nuclear program. It did, however, establish that regional rivals were willing to manage competition through dialogue rather than direct confrontation, and that Beijing was willing to facilitate it.   The Abraham Accords on Hold   If the Saudi-Iran détente represented one vector of realignment, the Abraham Accords represented another. Signed in 2020, the U.S.-brokered agreements that normalized relations between Israel and the United Arab Emirates, Bahrain, and Morocco marked a paradigm shift. They rested on the premise that shared concerns over Iran and shared economic interests could advance Arab-Israeli normalization even without resolution of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.   By mid-2023, attention had turned to the potential prize of Saudi-Israeli normalization. U.S. officials pursued an ambitious package that would have linked a Saudi-Israel deal with U.S. security guarantees for Riyadh and support for a civilian nuclear program, alongside concessions toward the Palestinians.   The war in Gaza, triggered by Hamas’s attack on Israel on October 7, 2023, which killed approximately 1,200 people and led to the abduction of more than 250 hostages, and followed by Israel’s military campaign in Gaza, which Gaza health authorities report has killed tens of thousands, has fundamentally altered that trajectory.   Saudi Arabia has not abandoned the idea of normalization, but it has recalibrated its public conditions. Riyadh has stated repeatedly that any deal now requires a credible, irreversible path toward a Palestinian state. This position reflects both genuine concern over the humanitarian situation in Gaza and a reading of domestic and wider Arab public opinion, where images from the war have generated widespread anger.   For the UAE and Bahrain, which maintained their embassies in Israel throughout the war, the Accords have endured but become more subdued. Economic and security cooperation, particularly on technology, trade, and air defense against Iranian drones, has continued behind closed doors. Public-facing celebration of the accords, however, has largely been suspended. The experience has highlighted a duality: the Accords have proven resilient as state-to-state security arrangements, but fragile as instruments of broader regional integration without progress on the Palestinian question.   Gaza and the Redistribution of Influence   The prolonged conflict in Gaza has accelerated several regional trends. First, it has restored the centrality of the Palestinian issue to Arab diplomacy, after a period when many policymakers assumed it could be sidelined.   Second, it has empowered non-state actors and redefined deterrence. The near-daily exchange of fire between Israel and Hezbollah until a late-2024 ceasefire, attacks on international shipping by the Houthis in the Red Sea that disrupted an estimated 12 percent of global trade at its peak, and direct Iranian-Israeli missile exchanges in April 2024 demonstrated that escalation management has become the defining security challenge of the region.   Third, it has created space for middle powers to mediate. Qatar, alongside Egypt and the United States, emerged as a central mediator in hostage and ceasefire negotiations due to its channels to Hamas. Turkey has sought to leverage its political support for the Palestinian cause while maintaining economic ties with Israel. Oman has continued its quiet role as a back-channel facilitator.   For the United States, the war has illustrated both its indispensability and its constraints. Washington remains the only power capable

  In an international system undergoing rapid transformation, the emergence of a trilateral defense cooperation framework among Pakistan, Türkiye, and Saudi Arabia signals a notable shift in how middle powers are approaching security and strategic autonomy.Three states, each central to its respective region, are seeking to institutionalize collaboration in defense, industry, and crisis management. The significance of this alignment extends beyond bilateral ties and touches upon regional stability, defense industrialization, and the evolving balance of power in Eurasia and the Indian Ocean. The rationale for this cooperation lies in the complementary strengths that each country brings. Pakistan contributes a large, professionally trained military with extensive experience in counterterrorism, peacekeeping, and mountainous warfare. It also maintains a credible nuclear deterrent and has developed a domestic defense industry in areas such as aerospace, missiles, and armored vehicles. Its location provides access to the Arabian Sea and proximity to key trade and energy routes linking South Asia, Central Asia, and the Gulf. Türkiye offers a military with NATO operational experience, combined with one of the fastest-growing defense industrial bases outside the traditional Western suppliers. Over the last decade, Ankara has demonstrated capacity in unmanned aerial systems, naval platforms, electronics, and aerospace subsystems. Its geographic position, connecting Europe, the Mediterranean, and West Asia, makes it a natural bridge between different security theaters. Saudi Arabia adds financial depth, energy influence, and a central role in Gulf security. Under Vision 2030, Riyadh has prioritized localization of defense manufacturing and diversification of partnerships. The Kingdom also carries substantial weight in the Arab and Islamic world, giving any trilateral initiative immediate political resonance across a wide geography. When viewed together, these capabilities form the basis for a partnership that is both symbolic and practical. Symbolically, it represents a commitment by three major Muslim-majority states to take greater responsibility for regional security. Practically, it creates opportunities for joint development, procurement, training, and operational coordination that can reduce duplication and increase efficiency. The regional importance of this alignment can be understood in several contexts. The Middle East and South Asia continue to face a complex mix of traditional and non-traditional security challenges. These include maritime threats in the Red Sea and Arabian Sea, the proliferation of unmanned systems, cyber intrusions, and the persistent risk of transnational militancy. A structured mechanism for consultation among Pakistan, Türkiye, and Saudi Arabia provides an additional channel for de-escalation and coordinated response. In maritime terms alone, the cooperation could contribute to the security of sea lanes that carry a significant portion of global energy and trade. Equally important is the dimension of defense industry collaboration. All three states have expressed a desire to move away from over-reliance on external suppliers and to build indigenous capacity. A trilateral format allows for economies of scale in research and development, co-production, and technology transfer. Areas of immediate potential include air defense systems, drones and counter-drone technology, armored vehicles, naval ships, and cybersecurity infrastructure. Beyond the military domain, such industrial cooperation often generates spillovers into civilian sectors such as aviation, shipbuilding, and advanced manufacturing, thereby supporting broader economic diversification goals. There is also a clear utility in the area of human security. The armed forces of Pakistan, Türkiye, and Saudi Arabia have all been involved in humanitarian assistance and disaster relief, both domestically and abroad. Institutionalizing cooperation in logistics, medical support, and rapid deployment can enhance the region’s ability to respond to natural disasters, which have become more frequent and severe due to climate change. At the global level, the impact of this pact should be assessed within the framework of a multipolar world. The era of reliance on a single security provider is receding. States are increasingly building flexible, interest-based coalitions. The Pakistan-Türkiye-Saudi Arabia arrangement fits this pattern. It is not designed to replace existing alliances, but to complement them. All three countries maintain important relationships with the United States, China, the European Union, and Russia. The trilateral framework offers them greater flexibility and reduces exposure to disruptions in supply chains or shifts in political conditionality. For the wider Muslim world, this initiative presents a model of cooperation based on functional objectives rather than ideological or sectarian lines. It demonstrates that collective action is possible on issues of security, technology, and economic resilience. If successful, it could encourage similar arrangements in Africa and Southeast Asia, contributing to a more decentralized and networked global security architecture. From an economic perspective, defense cooperation often acts as a catalyst for deeper trade and investment. Joint ventures in defense production can lead to partnerships in technology, education, and infrastructure. Secure and stable regions are also essential for the trade corridors that all three states are seeking to develop, whether linking the Gulf to South Asia or connecting Anatolia to Central Asia. The long-term effectiveness of this pact will depend on how it is institutionalized. Three considerations will be decisive. First, the framework must remain open and consultative, so that it is not perceived as an exclusive bloc. Second, communication must be clear that the purpose is defensive and stabilizing, to avoid unnecessary misperceptions. Third, the cooperation must be rooted in sustainable industrial planning and regular exercises, rather than remaining at the level of declarations. The timing of this alignment is significant. The world in 2026 is marked by geopolitical competition, technological disruption, and climate-related stresses. In such an environment, states that can pool resources and coordinate policy are better positioned to protect their interests and contribute to regional stability. In essence, the trilateral defense cooperation among Pakistan, Türkiye, and Saudi Arabia reflects a pragmatic recognition that security in the 21st century is interconnected. No single state can address maritime security, technological change, or humanitarian crises alone. By aligning their capabilities, these three countries are creating a platform that can deliver tangible benefits in deterrence, industrial development, and crisis response. This is not merely a defense agreement. It is an expression of strategic convergence among states that share geography, history, and a stake in a stable international order. If implemented with consistency

For more than a decade, the global debate over critical minerals has focused almost entirely on mining and extraction. Western policymakers, multinational mining companies and international financial institutions have invested billions of dollars in securing mineral reserves across Africa and Latin America. From cobalt mines in the Democratic Republic of Congo to the Lithium Triangle of South America, the prevailing belief has been simple: control the mines and secure the future of the green energy transition. However, this overwhelming focus on extraction overlooks a fundamental reality of modern industrial power. In today’s world, strategic independence is not achieved simply by digging raw minerals out of the ground. True industrial strength lies in refining those raw materials into high-purity, battery-grade and industrial-grade minerals through advanced chemical processing. It is at this critical processing stage, often referred to as the “processing bottleneck,” that China has established an extraordinary and nearly unmatched global dominance. The Mining Illusion and China’s Refining Monopoly Understanding why Western efforts to reduce dependence on China continue to struggle requires recognising the crucial difference between mining and refining. Raw lithium extracted from Australian hard-rock mines or South American brine deposits cannot be used directly in electric vehicle batteries. It must first undergo complex chemical processing to produce lithium hydroxide or lithium carbonate with a purity of 99.9 percent. The same applies to rare earth elements, cobalt, nickel and graphite. Without refining, raw minerals have little value for advanced technology or defence industries. This is where China’s true strength becomes evident. While the country’s share of global mining production is relatively limited, it dominates global refining capacity. China currently refines about 35 percent of the world’s nickel, between 50 and 70 percent of global lithium and cobalt, and nearly 90 percent of all rare earth elements. It also controls virtually 100 percent of the global market for spherical graphite, a key material used in battery anodes. This creates a major strategic challenge for Western economies. Even if companies in the United States, Europe or Australia develop new mines, much of the extracted material still has to be shipped to China for chemical processing. As a result, many attempts to bypass China ultimately continue to strengthen its refining ecosystem. The Structural Foundation of China’s Success China’s refining dominance is neither accidental nor simply the result of low labour costs. It reflects more than three decades of consistent industrial planning and state-backed investment. During the 1990s and early 2000s, many Western economies shifted heavy industries overseas to reduce costs and meet stricter environmental regulations. At the same time, China recognised that chemical refining would become the foundation of future technological leadership. Through successive five-year development plans, Beijing invested heavily in large-scale refining facilities, specialised metallurgical universities and low-cost energy infrastructure. Decades of research enabled Chinese engineers to master technologies capable of refining even low-grade ores efficiently and at relatively low cost. China also accepted the significant environmental costs associated with refining. Processing rare earth minerals produces toxic waste, radioactive by-products and hazardous chemicals. While strict environmental regulations and public opposition have made large-scale refining projects difficult in North America and Europe, China accepted these environmental challenges as part of its long-term national strategy. Why the West Cannot Easily Replicate China’s Model Concern over potential Chinese export restrictions has encouraged the United States and its allies to invest in domestic refining infrastructure. However, matching China’s industrial ecosystem remains an enormous challenge. Several major obstacles stand in the way First, time. Building a modern refining facility in Europe or North America typically takes seven to twelve years because of environmental approvals and legal procedures. In China, similar projects can often be completed in less than two years. Second, cost. Chinese refineries benefit from economies of scale, low electricity prices and extensive government support. Western facilities face much higher labour, environmental and operational expenses. Without strong financial guarantees, private investors remain reluctant to finance projects that could later become uncompetitive if China lowers prices. Third, skilled manpower. Decades of industrial outsourcing have reduced the number of mining metallurgists and chemical engineers in many Western countries. Meanwhile, China continues to produce thousands of specialised engineers every year, maintaining a steady pipeline of technical expertise. Strategic and Geopolitical Consequences China’s refining advantage extends far beyond electric vehicles and consumer electronics. It has become a critical factor in global defence and national security. Modern military equipment—including guided missiles, radar systems, nuclear submarines and fifth-generation fighter aircraft such as the F-35—depends heavily on refined rare earth magnets and processed critical metals. In the event of a military crisis involving Taiwan or the South China Sea, China would not necessarily need to block access to global mines. Instead, it could simply restrict exports of refined minerals. Such a move could disrupt Western defence manufacturing within months, even if friendly nations continued producing raw mineral resources. The global competition over critical minerals, therefore, is no longer centred solely on who owns the mines. It increasingly depends on who controls the refining process—the stage where China has built its strongest and most strategically important advantage.

The first part of this series concluded with a question that goes deeper than the contractual forms employed by conventional or Islamic banks: who should possess the power to create money—society through its sovereign monetary authority, or commercial banks through the expansion of credit? It is impossible to reconstruct a financial order without answering this question. Popular understanding of banking remains surprisingly detached from the way modern money actually comes into existence. The conventional explanation suggests that people first deposit their savings with banks and banks subsequently lend part of those deposits to borrowers. Banks thus appear principally as intermediaries between savers and investors. Modern banking does not operate quite like this. The Bank of England, explaining the process in unusually clear terms, acknowledges that most money in a modern economy is created by commercial banks when they make loans. A bank granting financing normally credits the borrower’s account and simultaneously records a corresponding asset on its own balance sheet.  The deposit is created through the act of lending rather than necessarily representing money previously deposited by another saver. When the loan principal is repaid, the corresponding bank-created money is extinguished. This requires an important correction to the familiar expression “fractional-reserve banking”.  Banks are certainly required to maintain reserves, liquidity and regulatory capital, but contemporary money creation cannot accurately be understood as a mechanical process in which every rupee of reserves is successively multiplied into a predetermined number of rupees of loans.  Lending is constrained by capital requirements, liquidity, creditworthiness, profitability, regulation, settlement requirements and ultimately monetary policy. It nevertheless remains true that deposit-taking commercial banks create a substantial part of the money used by society. Pakistan is no exception. State Bank of Pakistan’s monetary data show that at end-June 2026 broad money was about Rs. 46.46 trillion. Currency in circulation was about Rs. 11.94 trillion, while deposits with banks were approximately Rs. 34.47 trillion. The greater part of what Pakistanis use as money does not consist of notes issued by the State Bank. It consists of claims recorded in the banking system. This distinction has profound consequences for our discussion of riba. Commercial-bank creation of deposit money should not automatically be declared riba. The Quran does not prescribe a reserve ratio, a central-bank structure or a particular technique for creating currency.  To equate fractional-reserve banking itself with riba would unnecessarily turn a question of monetary system into a theological declaration. The real objection is different. A society must ask whether the privilege of creating generally accepted purchasing power should be exercised primarily through private debt contracts; who receives the initial benefit of newly created purchasing power; towards which activities the new credit is directed; who absorbs the losses when excessive credit creation produces instability; and whether private institutions can earn a predetermined return from money whose creation depends ultimately upon the sovereign monetary and payment system. These are questions of political economy and distributive justice. Pakistan provides an especially revealing example. SBP’s provisional monetary aggregates at end-June 2026 recorded net government-sector borrowing of more than Rs. 37 trillion.  Net borrowing from scheduled banks was overwhelmingly larger than direct borrowing from SBP, while credit to the private sector stood at around Rs. 11.4 trillion. The precise categories require care in interpretation, but the broad structural message is difficult to miss: the banking system has become deeply intertwined with financing the State itself. Banks operate within an extraordinary circle. The State confers the banking licence, provides the settlement infrastructure, regulates deposits, maintains monetary stability and acts ultimately as guardian of systemic stability. Banks create deposit money through their financing operations and then deploy enormous resources in government securities carrying returns ultimately serviced through public revenues. The citizen appears at both ends of the transaction by providing deposits to the banking system and later pays taxes from which sovereign financial obligations are serviced. The arrangement may be perfectly lawful under the existing system, but a project seeking elimination of riba cannot ignore its structural implications. Conversion of conventional banks into Islamic banks does not, by itself, answer this problem. An Islamic deposit-taking institution can participate in the same process of deposit creation when it extends financing. If its balance sheet remains concentrated in sovereign instruments and if its returns remain indirectly anchored to the prevailing interest-rate structure, conversion of contractual terminology leaves the underlying monetary structure substantially intact. This is one reason why the proposal recently advanced by Muhammad Munir Ahmad for an alternative riba-free system deserves serious consideration. It correctly asks whether money creation and commercial financing should be separated. Its criticism of the privileges inherent in the existing banking structure identifies a problem much larger than the replacement of an interest-bearing loan with murabaha or ijarah. The proposed solution, however, requires considerable refinement. One possibility is a system under which transaction money is fully backed by sovereign money.  Current accounts used for salaries, business payments and ordinary transactions would represent money held for payment and safekeeping. Banks would not be permitted to use these balances to create additional financing. Investment would take place through an entirely different window. A person seeking a return would knowingly place funds in an investment account. Those funds could be employed in mudarabah, musharakah, leasing, trade finance and other genuine commercial arrangements. Return would arise from investment, ownership, enterprise or service rather than merely from allowing a bank to create a debt against a transaction deposit. This idea is neither historically unprecedented nor uniquely associated with Islamic economics. During the Great Depression, economists associated with what became known as the Chicago Plan proposed 100 per cent reserve backing for transaction deposits, expressly separating the monetary function of banks from their credit function. Irving Fisher became one of its prominent advocates.  Decades later, an International Monetary Fund (IMF) working paper by Jaromir Benes and Michael Kumhof revisited the proposal and modelled potential effects including greater control over credit cycles and reductions in private and public debt. The paper was research rather than IMF policy, but

Every 14th of August we hear the same national narrative. Speeches recall 1947, flags are hoisted, and anthems are played at midnight. The symbolism matters. It reminds us of the cost of independence and the idea of Pakistan. Yet symbolism without substance risks becoming ritual. If we are to understand what independence means in 2026, we must look beyond the ceremony and toward the quiet, persistent work that sustains the nation through every crisis. That work is rarely televised. It is carried out by teachers in under-resourced schools, by health workers walking door to door, by engineers keeping the grid alive during heatwaves, by farmers adapting to erratic weather, and by young people building livelihoods from laptops in small towns. These are the stories of resilience that deserve a central place in our understanding of Pakistan, 79 years after its founding. Resilience is not an abstract virtue. It is a measurable response to constraint. Pakistan has faced recurring fiscal stress, energy shortfalls, climate shocks, and security challenges. In each case, state capacity alone has been insufficient. What has prevented collapse is a dense network of civic and professional effort that fills gaps, innovates under pressure, and restores basic function. Consider education. Official data continues to show millions of children out of school and low learning outcomes. At the same time, thousands of low-fee private schools, community learning centers, and volunteer tutoring initiatives operate in the same neighborhoods. They do not appear in headlines, but they keep children literate, prepare them for exams, and create a pathway, however narrow, to higher education. The same pattern appears in health. Lady Health Workers and polio teams travel on foot in heat and in risk, maintaining immunization coverage and maternal counseling in areas where clinics are distant or overburdened. Their work is repetitive, underpaid, and essential. Without it, disease surveillance and primary care would deteriorate far more rapidly. Economic resilience is visible in the informal sector and in the emerging digital economy. Pakistan’s labor market has never been able to absorb all new entrants through formal jobs alone. In response, millions have created their own employment: workshops, transport, retail, agriculture processing, and services. In the last decade, a new layer has appeared. Freelancers in Lahore, Karachi, Islamabad, Peshawar, Quetta, Multan, and Faisalabad now earn foreign exchange by writing, designing, coding, and providing remote services. They pay no rent for office space, require little imported capital, and learn through online courses. This is not a substitute for industrial policy, but it is a real expansion of opportunity. It represents a form of independence: the ability of an individual to earn without waiting for a large institution to hire them. The state’s role here should be to reduce friction, ensure reliable electricity and internet, and simplify taxation and payment systems, so that this energy is not wasted. Climate resilience is now inseparable from national security. Floods in 2010, 2014, and 2022 displaced millions and damaged infrastructure worth billions. Drought and heatwaves threaten wheat and water. The response has included both engineering and community adaptation. Farmers are experimenting with drought-tolerant varieties and more efficient irrigation. Urban volunteers organize tree planting and waste management in their streets. Provincial and federal programs have attempted large-scale afforestation and watershed management. Progress is uneven and often underfunded, but the impulse is clear: adapt or lose. The most effective adaptations are local, because they are designed around specific soil, rainfall, and social networks. National policy can support them by providing data, credit, and technical extension, but it cannot replace the judgment of people who live on the land. What ties these examples together is a refusal to wait for perfect conditions. Resilience in Pakistan is not optimism. It is a practical calculation that problems will persist, and that action must proceed anyway. This attitude is visible in small businesses that maintain generators and solar panels to cope with load-shedding, in parents who pool money to hire a tutor, and in journalists and lawyers who document cases despite pressure. It is not heroic in the cinematic sense. It is tedious, repetitive, and often thankless. That is precisely why it matters. Nations are built not only in founding moments but in the accumulation of ordinary competence over decades. As we mark 79 years, the task is to recognize this resilience and to institutionalize it. Recognition means collecting data that captures informal work, community schools, and local adaptation, and then designing policy around them. Institutionalization means protecting merit in recruitment, ensuring predictable funding for primary services, and removing regulatory obstacles for small enterprises and freelancers. It also means telling a different story about Pakistan. The dominant story is one of crisis and rescue. The more accurate story is one of persistence and incremental gain. Both are true. But a country that only narrates its crises will train its citizens to expect failure. A country that also narrates its resilience will train its citizens to contribute. Independence, therefore, is not a date. It is a practice. It is the practice of showing up to teach, to heal, to build, to adapt, and to hold institutions accountable when they fall short. The midnight speech reminds us why we began. The morning work determines whether we continue. If we wish to honor 1947, we should honor those who, without fanfare, keep Pakistan functioning every day between 15th August and the next 14th. Their work is not perfect, and it is not sufficient on its own. But it is the foundation on which any serious reform must rest. To see it, to name it, and to support it is the most patriotic act available to us now.

A few days ago, Mr. Hakan Fidan, the Foreign Minister of Turkey, briefed the media on the MJDA. He said that the operational mechanisms will be decided at the first meeting of the joint committee comprising the foreign and defense ministers and the Chief of General Staff. He also provided an overview of possible areas of cooperation. In this context, it is high time to discuss the future orientation of the MJDA, especially areas of cooperation and investment to build a future-oriented alliance. A few areas have been identified for consideration.   First of all, the three partners must understand that the era of traditional war is rapidly becoming irrelevant. The concepts of 5th-, 6th-, 7th-, and 8th-generation warfare are evolving into new dynamics: 9th-generation warfare. Thus, Cooperation under MJDA must be based on the new elements and needs of 9th-generation warfare, in addition to traditional areas. Now the question is, what is 9th-generation warfare? 9th-generation warfare has a few characteristics that distinguish it from past generations of warfare.   First, 9th-generation warfare will minimize, if not eliminate, the role of humans to a greater extent. The first glimpse of this type of warfare is evident in the form of unmanned UVs. Russia-Ukraine and USA-Iran wars further reinforce this argument. However, humans are still engaged in one way or another in wars, including devising and executing plans and engaging in face-to-face combat. For example, during the application of 4th- and 5th-generation warfare in the Middle East, humans remained a constant factor in leading and executing the wars. After the bombardment of Iraq, it was humans who captured the land.   However, it is anticipated that artificial intelligence will take over this job in future wars, and future wars will be run by artificial intelligence and its tools. For example, in 9th-generation warfare, artificial intelligence-based robots can take over the role of humans. Robots can invade a country, or they can also be used in guerrilla warfare. Countries can also use robots to conduct terrorist activities. They can send the robots with an anonymous identity, and no one will be able to trace the origin. Organized crime organizations can also use them to conduct their activities, such as targeted killings.   Let’s imagine another scenario. Robots are invading a country. They fight either humans or other robots. Countries with better technology can turn robots into double-edged weapons. On the one hand, robots will be fighting machines. However, they can also equip robots with destructive explosives, such as nuclear material or other explosives. Then what would be the opponent’s choices? How will opponents fight an explosive-ridden robot? They will take over the country if they do not stop the robots. On the other hand, if they try to destroy the robots, the nuclear explosives will detonate, which can cause serious damage. The scenario would be quite scary, and countries with advanced robot and AI technology can maneuver situations in their favor.   Second, the most developed countries have recently taken war into outer space, especially the USA. The USA’s obsession with and investment in outer space have compelled other countries to follow the suit. As a result, they are investing heavily, instigating an outer space race for dominance. The race has accelerated since the establishment of the US Space Force. According to the Vice President of the USA, Mr. Pence, the force was launched with four specific objectives. First, U.S. Space Command “will establish unified command and control for our Space Force operations; ensure integration across the military; and develop the space warfighting doctrine, tactics, techniques and procedures of the future.” Second, a military astronaut corps, which Pence called “an elite group of joint warfighters specializing in the domain of space.” Third, a Space Development Agency that will research and develop new technologies and “ensure cutting-edge warfighting capabilities.” Fourth, new bureaucratic structures that will define “clear lines of responsibility and accountability to manage the process of standing up and scaling up the United States Department of the Space Force.”   The USA and its allies are enhancing cooperation to outpace others and dominate outer space. As a result, they have launched a malicious campaign against China and Russia. They are portraying China and Russia as threats to global peace and to the use of outer space to attract public attention, support, and financial resources. At the same time, they also want to hinder the advancement of other countries in space technology to maintain their hegemony in the application of space technologies for war dominance. For example, during the Gulf War of the 1990s, the USA and allied forces used space technologies to outmaneuver their opponents. Since then, the USA and its allies have been working to further improve space technology and prevent other countries from developing these technologies.   Therefore, it is anticipated that space war will be multifaceted. On the one hand, there will be a race to control or maneuver opponents’ satellites by interfering with their software. This will be done to obtain information or spread disinformation. Sending arms into space to destroy opponents’ satellites is also possible. On the other hand, some countries have developed capabilities to hit satellites from the ground. This has opened a new field of military offense.   The use of space technology for military dominance created fear in the developing world. They fear that leading countries in space technology will use space for control and interference, collect information, and dictate to other countries. For example, the USA uses navigation systems to collect data and outmaneuver others in wars.   Third, in recent times, we have observed that COVID-19 has played havoc with humanity. It has shaken the whole world. The whole world came to a standstill. Markets were closed, and the tourism industry sank. It has introduced the world to a new danger of biological war. Biological war is considered one of the most lethal forms of war, as only one person can paralyze the world. One virus can shut down the whole world