Key Insights from the University of Oxford’s AI,…

By Asma Rahmat, Final Year Law Student, SLC, Superior University and Muhammad Ameer Hamza, Final Year Law Student, SLC, Superior University   The legal profession has long been regarded as one of the most respected and tradition-bound institutions in society, founded on human intellect, ethical judgment, and the pursuit of justice. Yet, like every other profession, it is now experiencing the profound impact of Artificial Intelligence (AI). Across the globe, AI is transforming industries by automating routine tasks, enhancing productivity, and improving decision-making. The legal sector is no exception. While countries with advanced legal systems have already begun integrating AI into legal practice and judicial administration, Pakistan is only beginning to explore its potential. The challenge before us is not whether AI will become part of the legal profession, but whether we are prepared to embrace this technological revolution while preserving the fundamental values of justice, fairness, and the rule of law. Artificial Intelligence has the ability to process vast amounts of information within seconds, making it an invaluable tool for legal professionals. Today, AI-powered software can conduct legal research, review contracts, summarize lengthy case files, identify relevant judicial precedents, and even assist in drafting legal documents. These are tasks that traditionally consumed hours or even days of a lawyer’s time. By automating repetitive and time-consuming work, AI enables lawyers to focus on the more complex aspects of their profession, including legal strategy, courtroom advocacy, negotiation, and client counseling. Rather than replacing legal professionals, AI has the potential to become a reliable assistant that enhances both efficiency and accuracy. For Pakistan, where the judicial system continues to struggle with delays and an ever-growing backlog of cases, the responsible use of AI could bring much-needed reform. Thousands of litigants wait years for the resolution of their disputes, often because courts are overburdened and administrative processes remain largely manual. AI can assist in organizing digital records, managing court schedules, classifying legal documents, and simplifying legal research for judges and lawyers alike. These improvements could significantly reduce delays, improve case management, and make the justice system more efficient without compromising judicial independence. Importantly, AI should support judicial decision-making rather than replace it, as the final responsibility for interpreting the law must always remain with judges. Beyond improving efficiency, AI also offers an opportunity to strengthen access to justice. A significant portion of Pakistan’s population cannot afford legal representation or lacks access to basic legal information. AI-powered legal assistance platforms, particularly those available in Urdu and regional languages, could provide citizens with preliminary guidance on their legal rights, court procedures, and available remedies. Such tools would not replace qualified lawyers but could empower individuals by helping them understand the legal system before seeking professional assistance. In a country where legal awareness remains limited, technology can become a powerful means of promoting legal literacy and strengthening public confidence in the justice system. The emergence of AI is equally significant for legal education. Law students now have access to intelligent research tools that can summarize judgments, explain complex legal principles, compare international legal systems, and assist in legal writing. These technologies can make legal education more interactive and research-oriented. However, they also present a challenge. Students must avoid becoming overly dependent on AI-generated content, as legal education is ultimately designed to develop analytical reasoning, critical thinking, and independent judgment. Future lawyers must learn not only how to use AI responsibly but also how to question its outputs, verify legal authorities, and apply legal principles thoughtfully. Despite its many advantages, Artificial Intelligence raises several legal and ethical concerns that cannot be ignored. AI systems are not infallible. They may generate inaccurate information, misinterpret legal authorities, or reflect biases contained within the data on which they were trained. A lawyer who relies solely on AI without verifying its results risks providing incorrect legal advice or presenting flawed arguments before the court. Furthermore, the use of AI raises important concerns regarding client confidentiality and data protection. Lawyers have a professional and ethical obligation to protect sensitive client information, and any use of AI must ensure that confidential data is handled securely. These concerns highlight the importance of developing ethical guidelines governing AI’s use within the legal profession. Pakistan currently lacks a comprehensive legal framework specifically regulating Artificial Intelligence. While existing laws address cybercrime and certain aspects of electronic transactions, they do not adequately address issues such as AI accountability, transparency, liability, algorithmic bias, or the protection of personal data in AI-assisted legal services. As AI becomes more prevalent, policymakers must establish a clear regulatory framework that encourages technological innovation while safeguarding constitutional rights, including privacy, equality before the law, and the right to due process. Such regulation will be essential to ensuring that AI serves society without undermining public trust in legal institutions. Perhaps the greatest misconception surrounding AI is the belief that it will eventually replace lawyers. In reality, the legal profession depends upon qualities that no machine can fully replicate. Lawyers do not merely apply legal rules; they exercise judgment, interpret complex factual situations, negotiate settlements, understand human emotions, and advocate persuasively before courts. Similarly, judges must balance competing rights, interpret legislation in light of constitutional principles, and deliver reasoned decisions based on justice and equity. These responsibilities require wisdom, experience, empathy, and moral reasoning—qualities that remain uniquely human. AI can provide information and support, but it cannot replace the conscience, ethical responsibility, and professional judgment that define the legal profession. The future of the legal profession in Pakistan therefore lies in collaboration rather than competition between humans and technology. Law schools should introduce courses on Artificial Intelligence, legal technology, and digital ethics to prepare future lawyers for an increasingly technology-driven profession. Bar councils and regulatory authorities should establish professional standards governing the ethical use of AI in legal practice, while the judiciary should continue investing in digital infrastructure to improve the administration of justice. At the same time, legal professionals must embrace lifelong learning so they can adapt to technological advancements without compromising the integrity

Pakistan and the United States have maintained one of the most consequential yet complex bilateral relationships in South Asia. Over more than seven decades, the relationship has witnessed periods of close strategic cooperation, moments of mutual disappointment, and repeated efforts at rebuilding trust. Today, amid shifting geopolitical realities, economic transformation, and emerging technological opportunities, both countries have a rare chance to redefine their partnership based on equality, mutual respect, and long-term shared interests rather than short-term strategic expediency. Pakistan recognized the United States soon after its independence in 1947, and diplomatic relations were formally established in 1948. During the Cold War, Pakistan emerged as an important security partner, joining U.S.-backed regional alliances such as SEATO and CENTO. The relationship deepened further during the Soviet intervention in Afghanistan in the 1980s, when both countries cooperated closely in support of the Afghan resistance. Following the end of the Cold War, however, strategic priorities diverged. The imposition of sanctions under the Pressler Amendment, differences over nuclear policy, and declining geopolitical convergence created a period of mistrust. After the tragic events of September 11, 2001, Pakistan again became a frontline partner in global counterterrorism efforts. While this cooperation produced significant security outcomes, it also imposed enormous economic, human, and social costs on Pakistan. Differences over regional security, Afghanistan, drone operations, and counterterrorism strategies periodically strained bilateral ties. Despite these fluctuations, the relationship never completely lost its strategic relevance. Both countries continued cooperation in defense, education, health, agriculture, energy, and people-to-people exchanges. Millions of Pakistani-Americans have served as an enduring bridge between the two societies, making valuable contributions to American economic, academic, technological, and public life while strengthening bilateral understanding. Recent diplomatic engagement indicates that both Islamabad and Washington recognize the need to move beyond a security-centric relationship. The visit of senior members of the U.S. Congress and American business leaders to Pakistan, alongside growing high-level diplomatic exchanges, demonstrates renewed interest in expanding cooperation across multiple sectors. Pakistan’s leadership has correctly emphasized that mature strategic partnerships are increasingly measured not by military cooperation alone but by the depth of economic, technological, and commercial engagement. Economic cooperation offers perhaps the greatest untapped potential. The United States remains Pakistan’s largest single-country export destination, while bilateral trade has continued to grow steadily. Pakistan imports American cotton, soybeans, advanced technology, and industrial equipment, while exporting textiles, apparel, surgical instruments, sporting goods, agricultural products, and information technology services. However, the current trade volume remains far below its potential. Expanding bilateral trade toward the proposed target of $20 billion over the coming years would benefit businesses, workers, and consumers in both countries. Pakistan’s improving macroeconomic stability, structural reforms, investment facilitation through the Special Investment Facilitation Council (SIFC), expanding digital economy, growing technology sector, critical minerals, renewable energy projects, and improved logistics infrastructure provide new opportunities for American investors. The recent financing support for the Reko Diq mining project demonstrates that confidence in Pakistan’s long-term economic prospects is increasing. At the same time, the relationship should not overlook cooperation in emerging sectors such as artificial intelligence, cybersecurity, higher education, climate resilience, healthcare, agricultural modernization, clean energy, semiconductor supply chains, and digital entrepreneurship. These areas represent the future of global competitiveness and can become new pillars of bilateral cooperation. Yet lasting partnerships require addressing historical shortcomings. For decades, Pakistan-U.S. relations have often been shaped by transactional calculations linked to immediate regional crises. This cyclical engagement has produced recurring trust deficits whenever strategic priorities shifted. Both sides should now avoid allowing temporary geopolitical developments to define a relationship with far broader potential. Several steps can help transform bilateral relations into a more durable partnership. First, both governments should institutionalize regular strategic dialogue covering trade, investment, technology, education, climate, and regional security. Second, expanding private-sector investment should become a central objective alongside government-to-government cooperation. Third, greater parliamentary exchanges, academic collaboration, and cultural diplomacy can reduce misconceptions and strengthen public understanding. Fourth, both countries should respect each other’s sovereignty, security concerns, and national priorities while managing differences through sustained dialogue. Finally, cooperation should increasingly be guided by equality, transparency, reciprocity, and mutual benefit rather than dependency or short-term geopolitical calculations. The Pakistan-United States relationship has survived changing global orders because it rests on shared interests that extend beyond any single issue or region. In today’s interconnected world, economic resilience, technological innovation, and regional stability require partnerships built on trust and consistency. By embracing a forward-looking agenda centered on trade, investment, innovation, and people-to-people ties, Islamabad and Washington can transform a relationship shaped by history into one driven by shared opportunity. The future of Pakistan-U.S. relations need not be defined by the ups and downs of the past. It can instead become a model of pragmatic cooperation—one based on sincerity, equality, mutual respect, and a common commitment to peace, stability, and shared prosperity.  Author: Prof. Engr. Zamir Ahmed Awan,  Sinologist – Diplomat – Advisor – Consultant, Founding Chair, Global Silk Route research Alliance.

Pakistan’s electricity sector is witnessing a quiet revolution. Between January 2024 and June 2026, the country imported more than 6 GWh of lithium-ion batteries, with monthly imports rising to 652 MWh in April 2026, according to the latest commentary by the Policy Research Institute of Market Economy (PRIME). The data confirms what many consumers already know: battery storage is rapidly becoming an integral component of Pakistan’s emerging distributed energy system. Against this backdrop, the proposal reportedly advanced by the Adviser to the Power Division, Syed Faizan Ali, to introduce Time-of-Use (ToU) net billing with an additional compensation of Rs18–22 per kWh for electricity discharged between 5 pm and 10 pm deserves serious attention. It represents one of the first attempts by policymakers to recognise battery storage as an active participant in the electricity market rather than merely a backup power source. PRIME has welcomed this initiative in its recent Prime Comment #44, “Turning Pakistan’s Battery Boom into a Grid Asset”, arguing that battery storage can transform millions of privately owned batteries into valuable grid resources capable of reducing evening peak demand and improving overall system efficiency. The think tank also reminds readers that in its April 2026 Prime Plus edition, PRIME  had advocated accelerated investment in Battery Energy Storage Systems (BESS) as part of Pakistan’s response to regional geopolitical tensions and growing concerns over energy security. The proposal is intellectually attractive. It recognises a simple economic truth: electricity stored during periods of abundant solar generation becomes considerably more valuable when discharged during the evening peak. Properly designed price signals can therefore encourage consumers to invest in storage while simultaneously reducing pressure on the national grid. The underlying economics are difficult to dispute. The policy conclusions, however, deserve far closer scrutiny. Pakistan’s electricity crisis has never been merely a shortage of technology. It has always been a crisis of institutions. For decades, governments have attempted to resolve structural failures through new incentives while leaving untouched the governance failures that created those problems in the first place. Capacity payments, guaranteed returns, fuel subsidies, cross-subsidies, circular debt financing and administratively determined tariffs all originated as seemingly sensible policy responses. Over time, they evolved into a complex web of distortions that now define Pakistan’s power sector. The battery revolution should not become the latest chapter in this history. The most immediate question concerns the proposed compensation itself. Every additional rupee paid for exported battery electricity ultimately has a source. If the payment is financed through higher consumer tariffs, ordinary electricity users subsidise battery owners. If financed through public resources, taxpayers assume another fiscal obligation. Unless the proposed payment reflects demonstrable savings through lower capacity utilisation, reduced reliance on expensive peaking generation, avoided transmission investments and lower fuel imports, it risks becoming another subsidy disguised as reform. The second issue concerns Pakistan’s peculiar electricity economics. The country simultaneously suffers from surplus installed generation capacity and shortages during particular hours of the day. Consumers continue paying enormous capacity charges even when power plants remain idle. Before introducing payments for battery discharge, policymakers should demonstrate whether distributed storage actually reduces these fixed obligations or merely shifts electricity from one time period to another while capacity payments continue unchanged. This distinction is fundamental. If batteries merely redistribute electricity without lowering total system costs, consumersmay simply end up paying twice: once for idle generating plants and again for battery incentives. PRIME’s analysis correctly highlights the dramatic increase in battery imports. Nevertheless, imports alone cannot determine public policy. Customs statistics reveal the volume of batteries entering Pakistan but not how they are ultimately deployed. Many imported batteries are likely destined for residential solar systems, telecommunications infrastructure, commercial backup systems, electric vehicles and industrial facilities rather than grid-support applications. Policy requires greater precision. Residential battery storage serving a single household differs fundamentally from utility-scale storage capable of providing ancillary grid services. The regulatory treatment, compensation mechanisms and operational obligations cannot be identical. Perhaps the most important omission concerns the electricity market itself. Time-of-Use pricing presupposes the existence of a reasonably competitive electricity market where prices reflect actual system conditions. Pakistan, however, continues to operate largely through administratively determined tariffs, long-term power purchase agreements and regulatory pricing decisions. Introducing another administratively determined premium without competitive price discovery risks creating fresh opportunities for regulatory arbitrage instead of improving market efficiency. The proposal also raises important questions of distributive justice. Battery storage remains concentrated among relatively affluent households and commercial consumers who have already invested in rooftop solar systems. Additional payments for exported electricity may transfer resources from ordinary grid-dependent consumers to wealthier “prosumers” capable of producing electricity themselves. A sound public policy must ask not only whether incentives improve efficiency but also who ultimately pays for them. Fiscal sustainability presents another challenge. Pakistan’s public finances remain under extraordinary pressure. Circular debt continues to impose significant costs upon the national exchequer while electricity subsidies consume scarce fiscal space. Every new incentive introduced into the power sector should be accompanied by transparent estimates of its medium-term fiscal consequences. Without such analysis, even economically desirable policies may produce unsustainable budgetary commitments. The environmental dimension deserves equal attention. Large-scale deployment of lithium-ion batteries inevitably raises questions concerning recycling, disposal, fire safety and hazardous waste management. Pakistan presently lacks a comprehensive legal and regulatory framework governing battery end-of-life management. Encouraging rapid battery adoption without simultaneously addressing environmental responsibilities merely postpones another policy problem for the future. Cybersecurity also enters the equation. As distributed storage becomes increasingly integrated with smart meters, digital communication systems and automated dispatch mechanisms, cybersecurity standards become an essential component of electricity regulation rather than an afterthought. The broader lesson extends beyond batteries. Pakistan’s remarkable solar revolution demonstrates that citizens and businesses are increasingly solving their own energy problems because the formal electricity system has become prohibitively expensive and unreliable. International observers have correctly described this transformation as one of the world’s most significant examples of consumer-led energy transition rather than state-led planning. Public policy should seek to complement—not constrain—this transition. However, complementing it

Bio: Hamza Tareen is a student at LUMS majoring in Political Science, with a keen interest in philosophy and theology. ‘I am utterly overwhelmed; the deluge of quizzes is beyond my capacity,’ my friend slowly sighed as his head drooped in exhaustion. Students across the country nurse dreams of pursuing higher education in premier institutes such as the likes of LUMS or IBA. They navigate the rigorous selection process, pay exorbitant fees and, when they finally clinch admission, little do they anticipate the stringently demanding atmosphere that would exact a heavy toll on their mental health. Those who get into these prestigious universities are students who have already demonstrated exceptional academic excellence, and, unsurprisingly, they formulate a highly ambitious criterion for defining success, i.e., consistently acing their courses. However, since the assessment follows a bell-curve distribution which evaluates performance relative to peers, the grading is highly competitive and only a small proportion land in the A/A- categories. This not only fails their expectations but plunges them into depression as they call into question their academic capabilities and self-worth. And, to top it off, peer pressure, which is ever pervasive in the culture, further complicates the problem. It would be tempting to label setting unrealistic expectations as the sole culprit; but the elephant in the room is something else. It is the culture that continuously pushes students to the brink of burnout and brands it as ‘academic rigor.’ From having interminable quizzes, assignments and mid/final exams to being expected to excel in four/five different courses simultaneously, the pressure is intense. And students are expected to somehow manage it all—along with carving out time for extracurriculars and social life. University is not all about academics, and there are a multitude of other problems that students steer through during the semester. But, to their dismay, they are assumed to carry through it all. Justified it would be to say that by the end of the term, they are sapped of all strength, teetering on the precipice of collapse. It is a well-researched—and unfortunate—fact that depression and mental health problems abound in elite universities. The aforementioned factors, coupled with other personal and social challenges that characterize this phase of students’ academic journeys, become a crucible of pressure for them. They stumble, totter, and fall into a shroud of uncertainty. And, lamentably, the stigma associated with seeking help or counselling multiplies the problem. Mental health is stigmatized as something alien, suited for the ‘feeble.’ Amidst these circumstances, the onus falls upon the administration. Supportive counselling sessions which help students in threading their way through university life and academics are crucial; dedicated mental wellness centers need to be introduced, encouraged and endorsed; and students should be empowered to zoom in more on learning than deriving their self-worth from grades alone. This does not mean exhibiting apathy towards academic performance, but a reorientation of priorities which do not impede their growth and self-esteem. Finally, a reconsideration and reassessment of balancing academic rigor with students’ well-being is indispensable on the part of the administration. Mental well-being will naturally translate into more productivity.

I grew up in Rawalpindi Cantt, where my father served as the principal of St. Mary’s Cambridge High School. Though my professional journey has carried me across continents and I now reside in the United States, my heart beats unyielding rhythm with the 260 million Pakistanis who are my true country fellows. Every night in my dreams, I walk the familiar streets of Rawalpindi. I graduated from Islamabad Model College, and to this day, the majestic Margalla Hills grace the screen of my laptop as a constant reminder of home. As a young student, I stood with pride to sing our National Anthem: “Pak sar zamin shaad bad, Kishwar-e-hasin shad bad, Tu nishaan-e-azm-e-ali shaan, Arz-e-Pakistan! Markaz-e-yaqin shaad bad.” That sacred pledge of resolve, faith, and devotion remains embedded in my soul, driving my lifelong conviction in the destiny of our homeland. Over a professional career spanning three decades across Asia, Europe, Africa, North America, and Russia, I have observed the mechanics of statecraft, economic transformation, and human capital under diverse political systems. Through these global experiences, one reality has become undeniably clear: the Pakistani nation possesses an extraordinary, high-caliber intellectual capacity that matches—and frequently surpasses—the finest minds anywhere in the world. From the scientific and medical sectors in Europe to the dynamic technology ecosystems of the United States, Pakistani professionals consistently perform at the highest echelons of innovation, corporate leadership, medicine, engineering, and public service. United States Presidents have repeatedly and publicly commended the invaluable contributions of the vibrant Pakistani diaspora to American infrastructure, economic vitality, and technological advancement. When placed within transparent, rule-of-law-based systems, Pakistani talent routinely excels. The foundational problem facing Pakistan today is not a deficit of human intelligence or natural resources, but a deep-seated structural crisis within its governing institutions. The primary obstacle preventing Pakistan from realizing its true global standing is systemic corruption, the deliberate destruction of meritocracy, and a reckless deficit of vision among its political leadership. For decades, the national political landscape has been dominated by self-serving figures who lack both statesmanship and the basic literacy required to navigate the twenty-first century. We live in an era defined by artificial intelligence, digital economies, and high-tech governance, yet the traditional political leadership remains largely ignorant of technologies like AI, machine learning, and modern public administration. Their approach to power focuses heavily on short-term patronage, wealth accumulation, and personal preservation, while ignoring the core developmental needs of the population. This total lack of strategic vision directly fuels the socio-political unrest observed across key regions, including Azad Jammu & Kashmir, Balochistan, and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa. The grievances in these areas are fundamentally economic and administrative, born from decades of neglect, broken promises, and predatory governance. Greedy political elites have consistently exploited local resources and suppressed institutional development, leaving local populations disenfranchised and impoverished. When regional populations are denied basic justice, modern infrastructure, quality education, and economic dignity, instability naturally follows. The issues facing these provinces cannot be resolved through superficial political arrangements or force alone. They demand genuine administrative devolution, economic fairness, and an absolute end to elite political exploitation. Pakistan’s growing population, rapid urbanization, and regional economic disparities further justify a serious evaluation of its overall administrative structure. Creating smaller, manageable administrative units or new provinces can bring government directly to the people. However, redrawing boundaries alone is not a magic solution. If corrupt practices, political interference, and weak institutional capacity persist, new administrative divisions will only multiply secretariats, ministries, and state expenditures without improving the daily lives of citizens. Any restructuring must be guided by objective criteria, rigorous economic planning, and transparent public participation, ensuring that power shifts completely down to local municipal and union council levels. To break the longstanding cycle of administrative decay, Pakistan requires an aggressive shift in its approach to governance and elite accountability. The country must adopt an uncompromising strategy similar to the Saudi Arabia model initiated by Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman (MBS)—a decisive, systemic crackdown on institutional corruption and elite financial impunity. Every asset, real estate portfolio, and offshore account illegally acquired abroad by corrupt politicians, bureaucrats, and public officials must be systematically traced, frozen, and confiscated under international legal frameworks. Returning these stolen billions to the national treasury is not merely a moral imperative; it is an urgent economic necessity. A nation cannot thrive while its financial reserves are continuously drained to fund luxury lifestyles in foreign capitals. Achieving financial integrity and self-reliance is the essential prerequisite for building true national strength. History demonstrates that economic power is the absolute mother of military power and national sovereignty. No state can maintain a robust, modern defense apparatus over the long term without a self-sustaining economy, a strong currency, and a productive technological base. By recovering looted public wealth and redirecting it toward national infrastructure, energy independence, industrial output, and digital education, Pakistan can rapidly eliminate its dependence on foreign debt and assert its sovereignty on the global stage. True economic independence grants a nation unyielding leverage in international affairs. The path forward demands an urgent transition to AI-driven good governance and digital administration. Human discretion in public procurement, land record management, tax collection, customs clearance, and civil service recruitment must be systematically replaced with automated, algorithmic systems that eliminate bribery and political patronage. Artificial intelligence platforms can optimize public spending, track state resource distribution in real time, monitor civic projects, and guarantee complete transparency across every tier of government. When civil service recruitment, performance evaluations, and judicial tracking are governed by objective data frameworks rather than political influence, absolute meritocracy will return to state institutions. Furthermore, national development requires a structured investment in human capital. Establishing dedicated leadership academies and technical institutes will ensure that the next generation of public administrators is versed in high-tech policy design, data analytics, global trade dynamics, and financial management. Nations such as Singapore, South Korea, Estonia, and Rwanda have proven that rapid transformation does not require unlimited natural wealth. It demands disciplined execution, unyielding meritocracy, technologically integrated institutions, and transparent leadership.

In the winter of 1979, a neighbour’s house caught fire. The Soviet Union had marched into Afghanistan, and the flames of war were licking at the walls of Kabul. From across the ocean, a distant power arrived at Pakistan’s door. It did not come with soldiers. It came with money, guns, and a promise: *”Let us fight this fire together. Use your roof. Use your roads. We will stand with you. We will not let the fire reach your house.”* Pakistan opened its door. What else could it do? The Soviet army sat on its western border. The world was divided into two camps, and neutrality was a luxury no frontline state could afford. For ten years, Pakistan became the staging ground for a war that was not its own. It hosted three million refugees. Its cities swelled. Its tribal areas became training grounds for fighters armed and funded by outside money. Weapons arrived by the shipload through Karachi. Pakistani officers coordinated strategy. Every bullet fired at a Soviet convoy in the Hindu Kush passed through Pakistani hands. The distant power paid the bills. It sent the Stinger missiles. It called the resistance fighters “freedom fighters” and Pakistan a “frontline state.” But the war was never truly about Pakistan’s safety. It was about bleeding the Soviet Union in a distant mountainside, using Pakistani soil as the operating theatre and Afghan bodies as the currency. Then, in 1989, the Soviet Union withdrew. The fire in the neighbour’s house went out. And the distant power that had promised eternal friendship turned its attention elsewhere. The billions dried up. The diplomatic interest evaporated. Afghanistan, the battlefield, was left to warlords who turned the weapons on each other. Pakistan was left with three million refugees who would not go home, a Kalashnikov culture that would not disappear, and a border that would never again be quiet. The weapons that had been given to fight the Soviets did not rust. They remained. They moved into streets, into disputes, into corners of the country where the state had never fully reached. The guest who had brought the fire extinguisher had started a blaze that spread to the host’s own house — and then moved to a new neighbourhood. The distant power won its strategic objective at the cost of Afghan and Pakistani soil, then walked away. Its own cities were never bombed. Its own children never became refugees. Its economy never staggered under the weight of someone else’s war. Pakistan, which had signed no formal treaty of alliance but had acted as an ally in every meaningful sense, was left holding the pieces. This is what happens when alliances are forged in the middle of a fire. The stronger partner does not need your victory. He needs your usefulness. He needs you to hold the front, to absorb the blow, to stand in a place where he does not wish to stand. And when the war ends, he will shake your hand and go home — while you remain amid the embers, wondering why the fire you helped extinguish has reignited in your own courtyard. History records a curious pattern. The alliances that have endured — the ones that outlasted their founders and shaped the world for generations — were almost never built while the house was burning. NATO was forged in 1949, not because the bombs were falling on Paris, but because the memory of war was still fresh and the desire to prevent it was shared. The parties had time to read the text, to negotiate the terms, to build institutions that could survive a change of government on either side. An alliance born in the middle of a fire is a different creature entirely. It is an emergency measure. And emergency measures have a way of becoming permanent arrangements that no one planned and no one fully controls. When you sign while the heat is at your back and the smoke is in your eyes, you do not have time to ask who owns the hose, who pays for the water, and who walks away when the flames are out. The Afghan episode is not ancient history. It is in our own lifetime. It is written in the smoke that still rises from our western border. And it is written in the simple fact that the weapons once aimed at a northern invader eventually turned inward, because no one had written a clause for what happens after the guest leaves. Pakistan has every right to defend itself. Pakistan has every right to seek friends in a dangerous world. But history offers a quiet observation for those who are listening: **the strongest alliances are built in peacetime, not borrowed in panic.** The fire is real. The neighbour’s house is burning. Yet the hand that offers protection in the middle of a war is holding a different ledger than the hand that offers partnership in the middle of calm. That is not a warning against friendship. It is simply what the record shows.