Pak’s Iran war double-dealing will add to economic misery

A couple of weeks ago, the Congress mocked the Narendra Modi government saying that Pakistan becoming one of the intermediaries between the belligerents in the ongoing war in West Asia was a “severe setback” and “rebuff” to India. Notwithstanding India’s undoubted military successes in Operation Sindoor, the sad reality is that thereafter Pakistan’s diplomatic engagement and narrative management has been “markedly superior to that of the Modi government.” There is some grain of truth in the statements made by leaders of the principal opposition party, but Islamabad’s supposedly “superior” diplomatic gambits are not without pitfalls. For the truth is that even a short-term success of any move made by a nation is contingent upon its economic strength; and it is here where the shoe pinches. On the verge of bankruptcy, it is battling high inflation (petrol prices above Pakistani Rs 350, three Pakistani rupees being one Indian rupee) and zooming external debt. The United Arab Emirates (UAE), which has suffered missile and drone strikes by Iran, is incensed by Pakistani duplicity in the region—something that Rawalpindi and Islamabad are adept at.
Pakistanis tried to appear neutral but the UAE feels that they are tilted towards Tehran. This has dire consequences for Pakistan, given its precarious economic situation. It may have to repay $3.5 billion to UAE this month, according to a report in a local newspaper. While about $450 million will be paid in the next few days, $2 billion and another $1 billion will be given later in the month. Whatever the Congress may say, the reality is that both India and Pakistan messed up in their response to the Iran war. India was seen supporting Israel because of Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s visit to Tel Aviv just before the war and our refusal to condemn the killing of Ayatollah Khamanei, but later balanced its response. Pakistan’s generals and politicians thought they are so clever that their double-dealing would never be called out. While the Modi government’s flip-flops didn’t cost the nation much—the problems like LPG would have been there even without foreign policy flaws—the consequences for Islamabad have been massive, and that could become calamitous for the regime.
The loss of confidence among Pakistan’s key partners like the UAE not only threatens immediate financial support but also undermines long-term strategic relationships. Combined with domestic economic pressures, this could lead to a vicious cycle of instability, where diplomatic isolation exacerbates economic hardships, and vice versa. In extreme scenarios, such pressures could even challenge the internal cohesion of the state. Ultimately, the comparison between India and Pakistan in this context highlights a fundamental truth-diplomacy is only as strong as the foundation upon which it rests. While both countries may have faltered in their initial responses to the West Asia crisis, the outcomes are shaped by their respective capacities to recover and adapt. India, despite criticism, retains the economic and institutional strength to recalibrate its approach without incurring lasting damage. Pakistan, on the other hand, faces the danger that their diplomatic gambits—however clever they may appear—could unravel under the weight of economic reality. In this sense, the narrative of Pakistan’s “superior” diplomacy is, at best, incomplete. It can be episodic but not sustainable, but in international relations what ultimately matters is sustainability.

