Faith, Force, and Foreign Policy: Pakistan at the Crossroads of Normalisation

The Disappearance That Spoke Louder Than Words

On 3 October, Karachi-based activist Jameel Behram, known for his outspoken pro-Palestinian advocacy, was reportedly abducted by unidentified men. His disappearance sent a message more powerful than any policy declaration: public dissent on Palestine is now being reclassified as a national security threat. Pakistan appears to be entering the same phase Arab states passed through before normalisation — managing domestic sentiment, curbing activism, and reframing resistance as instability.

Trump’s Claim: The “Muslim World” Is On Board

This incident, shocking yet predictable, did not occur in isolation. It unfolded within a broader geopolitical choreography that has accelerated since Donald Trump announced his Gaza peace plan — a plan he claimed carried not only Arab backing, but the endorsement of the wider Muslim world.

“Under the plan, Arab and Muslim countries have committed, and in writing, in many cases … but I actually would take their word for it — they’re, in many cases, great men.”

For most listeners, it was classic Trump: self-assured and theatrical. But for those watching Pakistan’s diplomatic moves, it revealed something far more consequential — the quiet incorporation of Islamabad into Washington’s post-Gaza strategy.

Meetings in Washington: Symbolism Over Substance

Just weeks before Trump’s statement, Pakistan’s army chief, Field Marshal Asim Munir, had met him twice — first privately and then in the Oval Office alongside Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif. Official briefings described these meetings blandly as “strategic discussions.” Yet in Washington’s language, such meetings signal convergence, not conversation.

The optics gave Trump exactly what he wanted: proof that the Gaza plan had the support not only of Arab monarchies but of the Muslim world’s most militarised state. The handshake between Trump and Munir turned Pakistan’s silence into symbolic endorsement.

The Saudi–Pakistan Security Axis

Soon after, the Saudi–Pakistan security pact was signed, officially to enhance co-operation in defence production, counterterrorism, and intelligence. On paper, it was a bilateral deal. In practice, it was triangular: Washington → Riyadh → Islamabad.

By binding Pakistan’s military closer to Saudi Arabia — Washington’s anchor partner in the region — the US gained indirect leverage. It no longer needs to pressure Islamabad openly to normalise with Israel; it can do so quietly through Riyadh, which now acts as a regional relay for the narrative of “Muslim unity for peace.” The “Muslim world” Trump boasted of now has structure, hierarchy, and enforcement — and Pakistan is being positioned within it.

Trump’s Nobel Bid and Pakistan’s Quiet Endorsement

Amid this alignment came the 2025 Nobel Peace Prize campaign for Trump, reportedly backed by several Middle Eastern and Muslim-majority states, including Pakistan. The gesture served as a form of moral armour — reframing his Gaza plan as a humanitarian breakthrough rather than a geopolitical manoeuvre.

For governments being nudged towards normalisation, the nomination offers cover: celebrating “peace” rather than admitting compliance.

Mushtaq Ahmad Khan and the People’s Resistance

Yet the story within Pakistan tells a different truth. Senator Mushtaq Ahmad Khan, who joined the Freedom Flotilla Coalition earlier this year to deliver aid to Gaza, offered a searing rebuke upon his return. Detained by Israeli forces and later released, he told national television audiences that Trump’s so-called peace plan was nothing more than “a project of slavery,” condemning both Western complicity and the silence of Muslim rulers.

“Why is our parliament silent?” he demanded, describing his treatment at sea and during detention. His words captured what remains of Pakistan’s ideological compass — the people’s instinctive defiance even as their leaders negotiate compliance.

Pakistan’s Ideological Identity and Military Sentiment

Yet beneath all this choreography lies an immovable truth: the people of Pakistan will never accept recognition of Israel or the betrayal of Palestine. Across society — from students and scholars to clerics, traders, and workers — solidarity with Gaza is a living conviction, not a political posture. It is woven into Pakistan’s ideological identity. For a state that draws legitimacy from Islamic sentiment, moving against that current will require coercion.

That coercion may encounter deeper resistance within the armed forces themselves. Many mid-ranking and senior officers — who have been politically restrained by the current chief marshal’s leadership and who carry institutional memory of Pakistan’s founding stances — will find it hard to accept recognition of Israel as a legitimate state. For some, this could be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. Pakistan’s military culture is saturated with religious symbolism — much of its hardware and programmes carry Islamic names and references — and the large Pakistani diaspora, who watch Gaza’s suffering closely, treat the issue as personal as much as political. Al-Aqsa remains the focal point of the aqeeda for millions, shaping how Pakistanis, at home and abroad, view any rapprochement with Israel.

Managing Dissent, Manufacturing Consent

That defiance, however, is being contained. The abduction of Jameel Behram is not an isolated act but a harbinger of what’s to come — the quiet normalisation of repression. More Jameel-style disappearances, arrests, and intimidation will likely follow as the state manages public emotion to accommodate elite diplomacy.

Pakistan’s rulers may succeed in engineering silence, but not consent. The society they govern remains ideologically and emotionally aligned with Gaza — even as the state drifts towards the camp of normalisation.

The Coming Reckoning

Pakistan has not yet recognised Israel, but the architecture of normalisation is being built in plain sight — through diplomatic symbolism, security integration, narrative control, and moral rebranding. What once defined Pakistan’s foreign policy — its unflinching solidarity with Palestine — is being refashioned into the language of “stability” and “pragmatism.”

This may, however, be the beginning of real change. If the Pakistani establishment moves to formally accept the state of Israel, it could provoke not quiet adaptation but popular pushback — a deep rupture between rulers and ruled. That pushback could, in turn, catalyse a broader reckoning within Pakistan’s power structure. For a nation founded on ideological conviction, the question of Palestine may yet decide not only its foreign policy, but a new leadership.