Politics

Border clashes recall Pakistan's tricky history with the Taliban

The flare-up is no isolated episode. Rather, it is the most dangerous chapter in a fraught, decades-long relationship that began during the Soviet-Afghan War in the 1980s.

Abdul MAJEED / AFP

A man walks across a bus stand at the Pakistan-Afghanistan border town of Torkham on October 13, 2025, amid cross-border clashes between the two countries.

Border clashes recall Pakistan's tricky history with the Taliban

Kaswar Klasra

last update on 16 Oct 2025

On a moonless Saturday night, the mountains of Nushki thundered with fire, the still air cracking under the weight of Pakistani artillery as the army unleashed a counterattack across the Afghan frontier. Flames rose from what were described as “Taliban command positions,” including the Ghazni headquarters, believed to have been a hub for cross-border infiltration.

Security officials called the operation “swift, clean, decisive”. According to Pakistan’s Inter-Services Public Relations (ISPR), multiple Taliban positions were hit after “unprovoked” cross-border firing earlier that day from Afghan territory across Angoor Adda, Bajaur, Kurram, Dir, and Chitral. “They wanted to test our patience,” a senior Pakistani military source told Al Majalla. “They got their answer.”

By dawn, smoke from the destroyed command post curled above the border hills. Authorities said 23 soldiers were killed, as were more than 200 Afghan fighters, most affiliated with Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP). Islamabad says Fitna al-Khawarij (extremist insurgents) orchestrated the assault with Indian intelligence support.

Taliban spokesman Zabihullah Mujahid rejected the accusations and condemned the strikes as “a violation of Afghanistan’s sovereignty”. He said: “Afghanistan will not allow anyone to breach its territorial integrity. Our forces acted in defence, not aggression. We urge Pakistan to pursue dialogue, not bombardment.”

By Sunday, intermittent shelling still echoed through the highlands of Kurram. Major crossings—Torkham, Chaman, Angoor Adda, Kharlachi, and Ghulam Khan—were sealed, freezing cross-border trade, which is the main income source for thousands of families on the frontier.

Abdul MAJEED / AFP — Truck drivers enjoy a meal as they sit by their stalled vehicles along a street at the Pakistan-Afghanistan border town of Torkham on October 13, 2025, amid cross-border clashes between the two countries.

A complex history

The flare-up is no isolated episode. Rather, it is the most dangerous chapter in a fraught, decades-long relationship that began during the Soviet-Afghan War in the 1980s, when Pakistan hosted the Afghan jihadists fighting the Soviet occupiers. Under General Zia-ul-Haq, Pakistan’s Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI)—with American and Saudi funding—trained and armed tens of thousands of Afghans.

Many of those battle-hardened men would later form the nucleus of the Taliban in the mid-1990s. When this ideologically rigid regime came to power in the 1990s, Islamabad quietly supported it as a stabilising force in its western backyard. When the US invaded Afghanistan in 2001, Pakistan allied with Washington, but continued sheltering remnants of the Taliban leadership.

When the Taliban returned to power in Afghanistan in August 2021 after America's chaotic withdrawal, Islamabad initially celebrated, for it assumed that it now had a friendly partner in charge, giving Pakistan "strategic depth". Hope was short-lived, however. Rather than bringing peace, the Taliban unleashed instability.

TTP, long based across the Afghan frontier, found new safe havens. Hundreds of its dispersed fighters regrouped in provinces like Kunar, Nangarhar, and Paktika. Their attacks inside Pakistan surged. According to Pakistani officials, more than 1,000 security personnel have been killed in TTP-linked violence since 2022, because TTP leaders operate freely from Afghan territory, often with local Taliban protection.

"The TTP is the single largest obstacle to peace," said a senior Pakistani counterterrorism official. "They are no longer just a militant outfit; they are a regional proxy used to bleed Pakistan." The Taliban denies the charges. "There are no TTP bases in Afghanistan," Mujahid said. "If Pakistan has evidence, it should share it. The Islamic Emirate does not support anyone's war."

There are suggestions of growing links between the TTP and foreign intelligence networks, notably India's Research and Analysis Wing (RAW)

Indian involvement

There are suggestions of growing links between the TTP and foreign intelligence networks, notably India's Research and Analysis Wing (RAW). Islamabad accuses New Delhi of covertly financing and arming insurgents through intermediaries in Afghanistan—a charge India vehemently denies.

The latest escalation unfolded as the Taliban's Foreign Minister Amir Khan Muttaqi paid a rare visit to India, where New Delhi signalled plans to "upgrade diplomatic engagement." For many in Islamabad, the timing was no coincidence. "India is playing a long game," said Mustansar Klasra, a South Asia analyst. "After investing billions in Afghanistan… (it) is trying to re-establish influence. Its intelligence agencies exploit instability on Pakistan's western front to create pressure."

Pakistan's military now has a two-fold dilemma: an openly hostile India to the east and an unpredictable Taliban to the west. Both could shelter armed threats, such as the Balochistan Liberation Army (BLA) and the TTP. The BLA's recent uptick in attacks in Balochistan shows "coordination with TTP cells," according to Pakistan's military authorities. The spectre of Indian involvement fuels Pakistan's fears about being encircled.

There is a bitter irony for Pakistan—having once nurtured the Afghan jihad, it is now attacked by the movement's ideological offspring. It's reward offering Kabul diplomatic recognition, humanitarian aid, and electricity would appear to be cross-border militancy, because the Taliban leadership—which is dominated by hardliners from Kandahar—does not wish to confront fellow Islamists like the TTP, who they see as brothers-in-arms.

For Islamabad, this reeks of betrayal. "We expected gratitude," a retired Pakistani diplomat said. "Instead, we got guns across the border. History has come full circle." For Kabul, this is about sovereignty. Having fought to expel foreigners from Afghanistan for decades, the Taliban now sees any Pakistani demand as interference. "Afghanistan wants friendly ties, but not at the cost of its independence," Mujahid said. "We expect the same respect from our neighbours."

Pakistan still hosts around three million Afghan refugees. Many were born and raised in Pakistan, straddling identities and loyalties. But as tension ramps up, the refugees and their children find themselves caught between history and hostility. Islamabad recently deported thousands of undocumented Afghans. This reflects growing frustration but also exposes a moral dilemma: how to protect national security without abandoning humanitarian responsibility.

What's at stake?

At stake is bilateral trade and connectivity. Cross-border markets at places like Torkham and Chaman have fallen silent. Those planning huge infrastructure projects such as the China–Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC) and CASA-1000 energy corridor worry, because success depends on a secure western frontier. If the fighting spreads, the costs could ripple far beyond the region.

These days, Pakistan's army is led by Field Marshal Asim Munir, one of the country's most powerful military chiefs in recent memory. He has adopted a doctrine of rapid deterrence, shifting from passive defence to pre-emptive precision. Pakistan "will not start wars, but will not absorb attacks either," its military says.

Afghanistan's rulers have called for calm but remained defiant. The ideological distance between Rawalpindi's generals and Kandahar's clerics is widening. A shared faith does not always translate into shared interests. Regional powers—including Iran, Qatar, and Saudi Arabia—have offered mediation, but trust is thin. "Both sides feel wronged," said a Western diplomat in Islamabad. "What began as a border clash risks evolving into a geopolitical rupture."

For now, at least, the guns are quieter. Yet the silence somehow feels temporary, a fragile pause between two neighbours whose fates have been intertwined since the days of the Mujahideen. The mountains of Nushki stand as they always have: scarred, watchful, awaiting the next spark.

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