Wars reshape not only battlefields but the political calculations of states watching from the sidelines. The conflict between the United States and Iran has already strained Western arsenals and unsettled the security architecture of the Middle East. For Pakistan, however, the most dangerous ripple is not military. It is political.

At the very moment when clarity is essential, Pakistan’s leaders are sending contradictory signals to the world — signals that risk pulling South Asia deeper into the shadow of nuclear uncertainty.

The danger is not that Pakistan has taken a position. States must take positions. The danger is that two different positions are being projected at the same time, one by the government and another by the opposition, and both are being interpreted abroad through the lens of nuclear deterrence.

Pakistan’s government has tilted cautiously toward the Gulf monarchies. Islamabad maintains long-standing security ties with Saudi Arabia, relationships that have historically included military cooperation and strategic consultation.

When the regional crisis intensified, Foreign Minister Ishaq Dar confirmed that Pakistan had invoked its defence understanding with Saudi Arabia and persuaded Iran to refrain from targeting Saudi sites. The Prime Minister went a step further, affirming that Pakistan would stand by Saudi Arabia “before it is needed” — “no matter what, no matter when.” The statement left little room for ambiguity and marked a significant strategic signal, taken without parliamentary debate or a clear public explanation of its implications.

At the same time, Pakistan’s leadership conveyed condolences to the family of Ali Khamenei and congratulated Mojtaba Khamenei after the transfer of Iran’s supreme leadership.

If the government’s signal was cautious, the opposition’s was dramatically louder.

On 10 March, Tehreek Tahaffuz Ayeen-i-Pakistan held a press conference in which its Secretary General Salman Akram Raja urged Pakistan to “act like a nuclear state.”

The phrase may have been intended as a call for diplomatic assertiveness. But politics does not exist in isolation from context. The statement came days after the killing of Iran’s Supreme Leader in a strike widely attributed to the United States and Israel, an event that sent shockwaves across the Muslim world.

If Pakistan is bound by security arrangements that could draw it into regional conflict, those commitments should be debated openly in Parliament rather than invoked quietly by the government or amplified rhetorically by political rivals

If Pakistan is bound by security arrangements that could draw it into regional conflict, those commitments should be debated openly in Parliament rather than invoked quietly by the government or amplified rhetorically by political rivals

At the same press conference, opposition leader Raja Nasir Abbas described the attack on Iran as an assault on the Muslim Ummah and called Iran the frontline of defence for the entire Muslim world. Meanwhile, Babar Awan demanded that Pakistan suspend participation in what he described as a Western-aligned regional “Board of Peace.”

When nuclear status is invoked in such an atmosphere, the audience — both domestic and international — hears a far more dangerous message than the speaker may intend. Policymakers across the region interpret such rhetoric as a suggestion that Pakistan should brandish its nuclear deterrent in support of Iran.

Invoking nuclear status while simultaneously calling for dialogue does not project sophistication. From a nuclear-armed state, it signals confusion, and confusion itself becomes a threat signal.

Pakistan’s geography makes such rhetoric particularly hazardous. It shares a long border with Iran, maintains deep strategic ties with Saudi Arabia, hosts one of the world’s largest Shia Muslim populations, and operates a nuclear missile programme already under scrutiny in Washington. In this environment, nuclear rhetoric clarifies nothing. Instead, it multiplies suspicion.

If Pakistan appears to tilt toward Riyadh, Iran could begin to view Islamabad as a hostile actor, effectively adding a nuclear-armed neighbour to its list of adversaries alongside the United States and Israel. If Pakistan appears to tilt toward Tehran through symbolic nuclear signalling, Saudi Arabia and its Gulf partners will draw equally troubling conclusions. There is no safe direction in which to point nuclear rhetoric in this conflict.

The domestic risks are equally serious. Pakistan’s sectarian landscape remains fragile. Language portraying Iran as the Ummah’s frontline defence may resonate emotionally, but it also risks inflaming Shia–Sunni tensions at home. Such rhetoric rarely remains confined to press conferences. It spreads quickly through mosques, social media, and street politics — and once sectarian passions ignite, they cannot easily be contained.

Nuclear rhetoric carries costs that extend beyond diplomacy. In December 2024, the United States imposed sanctions on several Pakistani entities, including the National Development Complex, citing concerns about ballistic missile development. Washington already views Pakistan’s missile programme through the lens of proliferation risk. Any perception that Pakistan might employ nuclear signalling in a live Middle Eastern conflict would deepen American mistrust, strengthen arguments for additional sanctions, and risk financial isolation.

Pakistan’s economy, dependent on IMF support, Gulf remittances, and Western export markets, can ill afford such pressure.

The phrase “act like a nuclear power” need not imply recklessness. Properly understood, it means recognising that nuclear capability imposes an obligation of restraint. A responsible nuclear state seeks de-escalation, maintains disciplined messaging, and uses its strategic weight to facilitate dialogue rather than amplify conflict.

Nuclear weapons exist to deter existential threats to the state, not as instruments for sectarian signalling in conflicts beyond Pakistan’s borders, nor as tools for domestic political mobilisation.

Pakistan cannot afford to enter this crisis, even rhetorically, without a coherent national position. The government’s cautious alignment with Saudi Arabia and the opposition’s nuclear rhetoric toward Iran together create a strategic incoherence that regional powers — Iran, Saudi Arabia, India, the United States, and China — are carefully observing.

Ironically, the most constructive proposal raised during the week came in the 11 March resolution of Tehreek Tahaffuz Ayeen-i-Pakistan calling for Parliament to be taken into confidence regarding Pakistan’s defence commitments. If Pakistan is bound by security arrangements that could draw it into regional conflict, those commitments should be debated openly in Parliament rather than invoked quietly by the government or amplified rhetorically by political rivals.

In a world already strained by war, confused signals from a nuclear-armed state are not merely embarrassing. They are dangerous.

Pakistan’s survival — economic, strategic, and social — depends on speaking with one voice and ensuring that voice stands clearly for restraint, mediation, and the protection of Pakistan’s national interest above all sectarian loyalties.

That, ultimately, is what it means to act like a nuclear power.

© The Friday Times