WHY have the Afghan Taliban, once considered strategic representatives of Pakistan, become hostile towards the state that protected and supported them?
This question is gaining ground in Pakistan’s public discourse as tensions between the two sides deepen. Analysts look for explanations rooted in political and strategic realities, but the roots of this shift lie deeper in the Taliban’s ideological self-conception and the tribal codes that shape its worldview.
Long before the Taliban’s return to power in August 2021, some observers had predicted that the movement would quickly discard the perception of being a creation of Pakistan once it achieved its objective in Afghanistan. That prediction has proven accurate. The Taliban’s behavior reflects not only political pragmatism but also a deep-rooted sense of honor (nan either ghairat) within the framework of Pashtunwali, the traditional Pakhtun code of conduct that governs social and moral life.
In Pashtunwali, honor transcends mere pride or courage. It embodies integrity, loyalty and the defense of autonomy. It requires that promises be kept and hospitality respected, but it also requires independence from external control. Loyalty, in this sense, is a conditional, not permanent, servitude. It should not compromise one’s own dignity or sovereignty. For the Taliban, accepting continued sponsorship from Pakistan after the victory in Kabul would be seen as a violation of their honor, a sign of subordination incompatible with their self-image as victors and rulers.
Expecting loyalty in exchange for hospitality is common in many tribal and rural societies in South and Central Asia. However, within the same social codes, prolonged hospitality is often considered a burden and, in some contexts, even a curse. It exposes the inner character of both host and guest, creating emotional and material tensions.
The longer those relationships last, the greater the likelihood that dependency will turn into resentment. Shared resources and overlapping interests often become sources of disputes. This dynamic has been visible in many parts of the world where conflict has triggered mass migrations, whether among Afghan refugees in Pakistan and Iran, or among Rohingya communities in India and Bangladesh.
The Taliban have become even more hostile towards Pakistan than previous Afghan regimes.
In tribal social norms along the Pakistan-Afghanistan border, demanding loyalty in exchange for hospitality is also seen as treatment that distorts the moral context of both loyalty and hospitality. When loyalty is demanded, it stops being an act of honor and becomes a transaction. According to the Taliban, the TTP are their guests and brothers in arms who once fought alongside them against a common enemy.
That Pakistan now demands that it be disarmed, disbanded or handed over is perceived by the Taliban as a deal that would stain its code of honor. Betraying a guest or comrade under external pressure would violate the very moral fabric that sustains your tribal and ideological identity.
However, states operate under different rules. Its honor and its codes have their roots in politics and in interests of diverse nature, from security and economics to grand strategy. When such interests overcome the fear of stigma, states act pragmatically and much of the emotionalism associated with a nation’s image is eroded. This is what Pakistan did with the Taliban leaders: it applied pressure from multiple directions, attacks, economic embargoes, diplomatic and political incentives and, over time, helped create a new sphere of negotiation between the two actors.
What happened in Doha and Istanbul was a manifestation of that change, although the sequence of events offers only a sliver of hope for a long-term resolution of the dispute between the two sides.
A fundamental element to explain why and how the Taliban became hostile towards Pakistan lies in religious and ideological brotherhood. This argument has been analyzed in several ways, but a central factor is the dogma and ideological architecture that underpins the movement.
Pakistan nurtured and supported mujahideen groups during the 1980s and 1990s, and later the Taliban, with the aim of creating prototypes of madresah graduates and even cadres without religious education through public education channels who thought like Pakistanis and shared their anti-Indian perspective. The project was strategic: limit Indian influence in Afghanistan and ensure a friendly government on Pakistan’s western flank.
The project failed because the religious dogma adopted by the Taliban, many Pakistani madrasas and religious elites presented a different vision of the state. They see Pakistan as a political system with weak ideological credentials that should be replaced by a “proper” Islamic system. For this transformation, they consider political and armed struggle necessary.
This is the argument that many Taliban leaders continue to project to their audiences. Pakistani militant groups, once active in Indian-controlled Kashmir, Afghanistan, or used by the establishment for domestic political purposes, held the same view. Jihadist literature of the 1990s was replete with the notion that once Kashmir and Afghanistan were “liberated,” the next turn would be Pakistan itself. Even Harkat-ul-Jihad al-Islami, an early militant group, was involved in the failed 1995 military coup attempt aimed at overthrowing the government and establishing a theocratic state, not unlike the regime the Taliban have since built in Afghanistan.
For the Taliban, who have absorbed much of Al Qaeda’s political interpretation of Islam, loyalty is defined through their religious worldview, their tribal and social code, and the political ethics that these codes nurture. They interpret alliances and support during times of war as instruments of divine providence rather than acts of friendship. Therefore, help from states like Pakistan is considered part of God’s plan, not a favor that demands reciprocity.
The result is that Taliban-led Afghanistan has become even more hostile towards Pakistan than previous Afghan regimes, which at least operated within globally accepted diplomatic norms.
Within this worldview, any assumption among state elements here that the Taliban would remain loyal or act subservient now seems naïve. Those who nurtured these groups in the hope of creating a strategic ally failed to understand the ideological nature of their creation. In doing so, they not only empowered religious extremism beyond all control, but also damaged Pakistan’s very social fabric, embedding sectarian hatred and militancy as lasting legacies of that miscalculation.
The writer is a security analyst.
Published in Dawn, November 2, 2025
