When Generosity Gets Weaponized

The Afghan refugee crisis has shaped the political, social, and economic landscape of Pakistan for almost five decades . More than any other event, it has intertwined the destinies of the two nations, creating bonds of compassion but also layers of misunderstanding. Today, as political rhetoric in Pakistan increasingly labels Afghans as Ehsan Faramosh (ungrateful) or Mohsin kush (betrayers), it is important to revisit this history with honesty rather than anger, and with a balanced awareness instead of selective memory.

Afghans do owe a deep sense of gratitude to the people of Pakistan. Millions of Afghan families found shelter in their towns and cities at a time when Afghanistan was engulfed in a brutal war against Soviet occupation. Ordinary Pakistanis, especially the people of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa and Balochistan, opened their doors, shared their limited resources, and treated Afghan children as their own brothers. This human compassion, rooted in culture, faith, and shared history, should never be forgotten, and it will not be. Nations are not defined only by policies; they are defined by the moral choices of their people. Pakistani society, at the human level, made the right choice.

But political narratives are rarely as honest or compassionate as the people who live inside them. While acknowledging the generosity of Pakistani citizens, it would be historically inaccurate and deeply unfair, to present Afghan refugees as a purely one-sided burden that Pakistan carried out of selfless charity. Refugees were not only guests; they became part of a geopolitical equation that delivered Pakistan immense advantages for decades.

The presence of Afghan refugees during the Soviet invasion transformed Pakistan from a regional state into a frontline global actor. International donors poured in billions of dollars, humanitarian agencies established large operations, and powerful global alliances took shape around Pakistan’s strategic position. The country received not only financial assistance but also political legitimacy, international relevance, and crucial strategic depth. The refugee crisis justified continuous aid flows, strengthened Pakistan’s diplomatic leverage, and placed it at the very center of Cold War politics. These are not Afghan claims, they are well-documented historical facts that cannot be erased, neglected, or concealed.

In this context, accusing Afghans and labeling them as security threats or ungrateful today, ignores the mutual benefits that shaped the relationship. Gratitude is not a one-way road, and memory should not be selectively edited to fit political narratives crafted unilaterally. If Afghans must acknowledge Pakistan’s hospitality and they should, then Pakistan must also recognize how Afghan displacement enhanced its geopolitical standing and brought substantial international support.

In my view, the current narrative crisis is not between Afghans and Pakistanis as people; it is between historical reality and political storytelling. Governments often highlight their sacrifices while downplaying the strategic gains they obtained. Pakistan’s official rhetoric today emphasizes the economic burden of hosting refugees but seldom acknowledges the decades of foreign assistance, strategic leverage, and political capital it gained as a result. Conversely, Afghans sometimes focus on the hardships they endured in exile and on how their legitimate struggle was exploited, while underestimating the social generosity extended to them by Pakistani communities. Both extremes distort the truth.

A mature, balanced understanding requires acknowledging the full picture: yes, Pakistanis showed remarkable hospitality; yes, Pakistan benefited enormously, economically, diplomatically, and strategically, from hosting Afghan refugees and supporting Afghan struggle during the past Cold War; no, Afghans are not “betrayers” for refusing to accept political narratives that erase these complexities; and no, gratitude does not mean lifelong political indebtedness. Hospitality loses its moral value when it is weaponized.

A kindness repeatedly invoked as a tool of blame or humiliation no longer remains a kindness, it becomes a psychological debt imposed on an entire nation. Afghans should never deny the compassion they received from Pakistanis, but neither should Pakistan convert this tragic chapter of history into a perpetual political instrument. Honesty demands balance, not selective memory. The future will only be stable if both nations move beyond emotional accusations and anchor their narratives in factual clarity.

Crimes and unlawful activities can occur anywhere, but these are individual acts, not collective identities. It is unjust to hold an entire refugee population responsible for isolated criminal behavior, especially when refugees themselves were among the most vulnerable groups in Pakistan. Afghan refugees, as a whole, were never the source of Pakistan’s internal security dilemmas and should not be treated as such. The roots of those challenges lie in political choices, strategic doctrines, and long-term state policies that predate and extend far beyond the refugee presence. Blaming displaced civilians for structural decisions made by the state is neither fair nor analytically accurate.

If Pakistan wishes to address its security dilemmas, it must examine its own doctrines honestly, rather than holding refugees responsible for the state’s choices. Similarly, if Afghans wish to preserve regional goodwill, they must acknowledge the emotional weight such a prolonged refuge has placed on Pakistani society and take concrete steps to permanently resolve the issue of refugees living in Pakistan. Self-reflection must flow in both directions. Ultimately, the future of Afghanistan Pakistan relations depends on breaking free from narratives that serve politics rather than people. Both nations must move from emotional accusation to rational engagement. The refugee chapter is not a story of saints and sinners; it is a story of shared suffering, shared responsibility, and shared benefit. Recognizing this complexity is not only intellectually honest, it is essential for rebuilding trust.

Afghans and Pakistanis have more in common than their governments often admit. Families, languages, trade networks, and histories are intertwined far more deeply than political speeches in Kabul and Islamabad suggest. True healing begins when Pakistan stops weaponizing refugees, the closure of Durand Line gates, trade, and transit, and instead treats these issues as lessons for mutual understanding and cooperation. Kabul should also ensure the orderly repatriation or relocation of refugees and must engage constructively with Pakistan on shared security concerns and Cross-Durand Line issues, while emphasizing dialogue and mutual respect. Healing will only be sustainable when both nations act responsibly, address past grievances honestly, and prioritize long-term stability over short-term political advantage.

A future built on dignity, honesty, and mutual respect is still possible, but only if the selective memory that poisons the present is finally confronted. The Afghanistan Pakistan relationship cannot be reborn through blame. It can only be reshaped through truth. And truth begins with this simple principle: no nation has a monopoly over suffering, sacrifice, or generosity. History belongs to both.

Afghanistan–Pakistan Concerns: A Call for Reciprocal Security

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