Pakistan's Counterinsurgency Strategy: Past Mistakes and Future Options

For decades, Pakistan's COIN strategy has relied on an outdated, force-heavy approach— high-intensity military operations, swift tactical victories, and brief moments of stability

For decades, Pakistan's counterinsurgency (COIN) strategy has relied on an outdated, force-heavy approach— high-intensity military operations, swift tactical victories, and brief moments of stability, only for insurgencies to resurface with greater adaptability. This cycle of violence, a damning indictment of a flawed playbook, exposes the limitations of relying solely on kinetic force while neglecting the socio-political realities that sustain militancy.

While battlefield successes may suppress threats momentarily, they fail to address the root causes of insurgency, ensuring that extremist networks remain resilient, ready to exploit state missteps and return with renewed force. The same fundamental errors persist— overlooking grassroots intelligence networks, sidelining indigenous populations, and ignoring the grievances that allow militant narratives to take hold.

The pattern is unmistakable. From the tribal districts to Balochistan, every phase of insurgency has revealed the inadequacy of an approach that prioritizes military solutions over a holistic COIN framework. Pakistan's security establishment has yet to internalize a critical lesson: counterinsurgency is not won through firepower alone but through a multi-pronged strategy that combines intelligence-driven operations, political engagement, economic empowerment, and social integration.

Global case studies— from the U.S. failures in Afghanistan to the Sri Lankan military’s mixed success against the Liberation Tamil Tigers of Eelam— prove that sustainable peace is only possible when states address the underlying conditions that fuel rebellion. If Pakistan fails to recalibrate its strategy, it risks becoming trapped in a perpetual war— fighting the same enemies, using the same ineffective tactics, expecting different results.

The resurgence of terrorism is not an anomaly; it is the inevitable outcome of Pakistan's short-sighted COIN strategy, which continues to prioritize military might over comprehensive counterinsurgency principles. Insurgencies do not thrive in a vacuum— they are fed by political exclusion, economic despair, and the absence of state legitimacy. Military campaigns may kill insurgents, but they do not kill insurgencies. Without addressing the systemic injustices that drive people into the arms of militant groups, every so-called “victory” remains an illusion— a temporary pause before the next insurgent wave. Pakistan must abandon its fixation on body counts and adopt a strategy centered on dismantling militant ecosystems at their very roots.

A fundamental shift is imperative. A counterinsurgency strategy that does not integrate the people as allies is destined to fail. If Pakistan wishes to break free from the shackles of perpetual conflict, it must rewrite its COIN playbook— into one that prioritizes not just the defeat of militants, but the reclamation of hearts and minds.

Counterinsurgency, by definition, is not just about eliminating insurgents; it is about winning over populations, dismantling support networks, and ensuring long-term stability. Modern COIN strategies have evolved from colonial-era doctrines that combined military suppression with efforts to win “hearts and minds.” The British in Northern Ireland, the Philippines against the Moro insurgents, and even American campaigns in Iraq and Vietnam have demonstrated that insurgencies are not purely military conflicts but socio-political struggles demanding multifaceted responses. Yet, Pakistan’s strategy remains disproportionately tilted toward kinetic operations, failing to incorporate crucial political, economic, and psychological dimensions.

The British success in Malaya against communist insurgents in the 1950s provides a striking contrast to Pakistan’s flawed approach. Instead of relying solely on brute force, the British combined military operations with political reforms, economic incentives, and local empowerment, thereby cutting off the insurgents’ support base. The Malayan Emergency was won not through indiscriminate bombings or mass arrests but by creating conditions that made insurgency an unattractive option. In contrast, Pakistan’s counterinsurgency campaigns, whether in Swat, North Waziristan, or Balochistan, have rarely been followed by meaningful political engagement or economic rejuvenation. The absence of a post-conflict rehabilitation plan means that areas cleared of militants remain vulnerable to re-infiltration, turning every military success into a transient, illusory achievement.

Successive military operations— Zarb-e-Azb, Radd-ul-Fasaad, and now Azm-e-Istehkam— have undoubtedly eliminated key militant strongholds and disrupted terror networks. However, long-term peace remains elusive. The recent hijacking of the Jaffar Express in Balochistan, which claimed the lives of 21 hostages and four security personnel, is a chilling reminder that insurgents are far from being defeated. Their ability to carry out such high-profile attacks exposes a fundamental flaw in Pakistan’s approach: the state has been fighting symptoms while ignoring the disease. The persistent unrest in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa and Balochistan raises an uncomfortable question— has Pakistan learned anything from its past failures, or is it merely recycling the same ineffective tactics under different names?

The choice before Pakistan is stark and unforgiving: persist with a failing strategy that breeds more conflict or adopt a new path grounded in inclusivity, justice, and political reconciliation. Anything short of this is a betrayal of the sacrifices made, a failure of leadership, and a guarantee that today’s