There is no denying that Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) and other extremist outfits remain among the gravest threats to Pakistan’s sovereignty, territorial integrity, and political stability. Emboldened by transnational jihadist networks such as the Islamic State and al-Qaida, the TTP in particular continues to challenge the writ of the state via its brand of militant Deobandi radicalism. Pakistan’s response, as always, is to wage yet another military campaign, this time Operation Sarbakaf in Bajaur, formerly part of the Federally Administered Tribal Areas (FATA) but now a district in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa Province.
Why is the political and military leadership of the country repeating the same policies that have failed to defeat militancy for the last two decades?
Launched in July 2025, Operation Sarbakaf is being billed as a “precise, intelligence-based” campaign aimed at militants affiliated not only with the TTP but with the Islamic State Khorasan Province (ISKP), the Afghanistan-centered affiliate of the transnational terrorist group. The offensive followed a sharp escalation in militant violence, including targeted assassinations of political figures such as Awami National Party leader Maulana Khan Zeb and former senator Hidayatullah Khan, as well as a series of deadly ambushes and IED attacks on government officials.
While the ongoing operation’s potential to actually eradicate militancy remains dim, it is succeeding in racking up a devastating human cost. Over 100,000 people in Bajaur have been displaced, forced to live in overcrowded schools and sports complexes that were converted into makeshift shelters. Civilian deaths, such as the recent killing of a mother and her two children in Mamund Tehsil by mortar fire, have fueled anger and despair. The angry response from locals is a stark reminder that military victories mean little when public trust is shattered.
Pakistan has had plenty of opportunities to learn this lesson. After 9/11, Pakistan’s government officially aligned with Washington in Operation Enduring Freedom. It provided the U.S. with logistics, bases, intelligence sharing, and even helped capture key al-Qaida leaders such as Abu Zubaydah and Ramzi bin al-Shibh. Yet there were hard limits to Pakistan’s role in the War on Terror. Pakistan harbored al-Qaida founder Osama bin Laden until a U.S. operation – conducted, notably, without Islamabad’s knowledge – succeeded in assassinating him. Pakistan also continued to allow Afghan Taliban leaders like Jalaluddin Haqqani and Gulbuddin Hekmatyar to operate openly on its soil. This selective approach embodied Pakistan’s policy of distinguishing between “good” and “bad” militants – those useful for its Afghan strategy versus those threatening Pakistan’s internal security. This dual policy gave militancy room to grow in Pakistan’s tribal belt.
After the Taliban’s regime fell to the U.S. invasion of Afghanistan, fleeing al-Qaida and Taliban fighters regrouped in Pakistan’s tribal areas with the help of sympathetic tribes and local commanders. Over time, these elements forged alliances with Pakistani militant leaders, such as Nek Mohammad Wazir and others in South Waziristan. Militants who had once fought in Afghanistan now turned their guns on the Pakistani state, giving birth to the Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan, which was formed when Baitullah Mehsud united disparate militant groups in 2007.
The TTP’s stated aim was twofold: to resist NATO in Afghanistan and wage “defensive jihad” against Pakistan’s military. Over time, their goal expanded to overthrow the secular Pakistani state and establish an Islamic emirate aligned with radical Deobandi ideology.
Since then, Pakistan has cycled through a series of military operations designed to root out the TTP from its base in the country’s northwest. Among these were operations al-Mizan (2002-06), Rah-e-Rast (May-July 2009), Rah-e-Nijat (June-December 2009), Zarb-e-Azb (2014), and Radd-ul-Fasaad (2017). Each military action scattered militants but failed to dismantle the TTP and other groups; each declared “victory” while leaving the root causes of militancy untouched. In fact, through successive rounds of civilian displacements and a heavy-handed security presence, these operations only further alienated the local population.
Bajaur itself bears witness to this cycle. In 2008 and 2009, major offensives displaced hundreds of thousands of people, leveled schools and homes, killed innocent civilians, and caused severe mental health trauma to locals. Pakistan’s military declared a decisive victory in Bajaur, implying the outcome was worth the costs. Yet the insurgency returned.
The Afghan Taliban’s takeover of Kabul in 2021 provided the TTP with fresh momentum. The former began releasing prisoners from jails, including thousands of imprisoned terrorists and their leaders belonging to al-Qaida, ISKP, and the TTP. According to the Global Terrorism Index 2025, Pakistan is now the world’s second-most terrorism-affected country, behind only Burkina Faso. Terrorist attacks in Pakistan doubled from 2023 to 2024, rising from 517 to 1,099.
Terrorism in Pakistan is not the cause but the consequence of deeper structural failures, including rampant poverty, weak governance, political exclusion, youth bulges, and religious extremism. The former FATA epitomizes these failures. Amnesty International reported that thousands of FATA residents have been detained on the mere suspicion of supporting militants, deepening resentment toward the state. As one Bajaur resident put it after the military declared victory in its 2009 operation: “The Taliban commanders … are still at large and we don’t know when they will come back and the government will start another operation. We have demanded of the government to rebuild our houses and shops which got destroyed or damaged during the operations.”
That sense of alienation is the soil in which militancy takes root again and again. Pakistan’s reliance on brute force without parallel investments in deradicalization or rehabilitation has ensured that each military operation sows the seeds of the next insurgency.
Externally, Pakistan continues to look abroad for answers. The recent U.S.-Pakistan Counter-Terrorism Dialogue brought some diplomatic gains, such as Washington designating the Baloch Liberation Army a terrorist outfit. Yet cooperation remains selective: the U.S. prioritizes ISKP, while Pakistan bleeds from TTP attacks.
Islamabad also faces the challenge of balancing its ties with Kabul and Beijing. Pakistan wants to press the Afghan Taliban for more concrete progress on counterterrorism, while China is content to pursue economic gains in the vague hope that development will solve the problem. Given China’s role as Pakistan’s most important ally, Islamabad is reluctant to alienate Beijing by bucking its preferred policy in Afghanistan.
What Pakistan needs now is not another military operation in Bajaur but a paradigm shift. Security cannot be achieved through force alone. A sustainable counterterrorism strategy must rest on challenging extremist narratives through education, religious scholarship, and media. Religious scholars from mainstream Deobandi, Barelvi, and Shia traditions should be mobilized to issue joint fatwas delegitimizing the TTP’s ideology, while curricula should prioritize civic education, pluralism, and critical thinking.
The military, too, must adapt. When military operations are necessary, they cannot be pursued unilaterally; consensus must be built with communities in affected areas. Smaller, surgical operations using drones, precision munitions, and local intelligence networks should replace indiscriminate artillery or airstrikes. Civilian casualties must be documented transparently, with full compliance with international humanitarian law. Displaced families should receive immediate compensation, along with documented resettlement plans that guarantee housing, schools, and healthcare in their districts. Reintegration must be treated as a national security priority, not a development afterthought.
For two decades, Pakistan has cycled through military operations, brief periods of calm, and resurgent violence. Bajaur is not the exception; it is the rule. Even back in 2009, locals told Amnesty that they had lived through no fewer than five separate anti-militancy operations, each time being told by the government that the problem had been solved.
Unless Islamabad shifts from short-term militarization to structural reform and ideological engagement, each new “victory” will prove as short-lived as the previous ones.