Pakistan’s generals have always fancied themselves not just as military men but masterful puppeteers of global perception. Whether through carefully curated diplomatic overtures (Trump for Nobel), headline-grabbing interviews, or think-tank charm offensives, Islamabad’s public diplomacy — particularly under the stewardship of the military — has aimed to portray Pakistan as a rational actor, a peace-seeking state, and even a linchpin of regional stability.
On paper, this is smart diplomacy. But like all well-scripted theatre, the applause fades when the audience realises the plot doesn’t match reality.
Take the latest example: General Asim Munir reportedly offering U.S. basing rights in Pakistan — a strategic carrot dangled at precisely the right moment. With the Biden administration bogged down in the Middle East and pivoting to Asia, and Trump looming large in the 2024 race, Islamabad hoped to cast itself once again as Washington’s indispensable regional partner.
It’s a page straight from the Cold War playbook. When General Zia-ul-Haq offered support to the U.S. in Afghanistan in the 1980s, Pakistan was handsomely rewarded. Billions in aid. Strategic parity with India. A starring role in Washington’s war games. Munir’s move seems to echo that historical muscle memory.
There’s only one problem: the world has moved on. And Pakistan hasn’t.
Public diplomacy isn’t just about slick interviews or a few high-level dinners. It’s about credibility. And Pakistan’s is in tatters.
While its diplomats stress regional peace, the country continues to give shelter — tacit or otherwise — to militant proxies targeting India and Afghanistan. While it claims to be a bulwark against extremism, its textbooks and clerics still promote intolerance. And while it lectures on sovereignty, it remains economically beholden to China and politically hostage to the same military establishment that has sabotaged every civilian leader daring to assert independence.
The Munir-Trump flirtation, if substantiated, reeks of desperation more than strategy. Trump, a known transactionalist, might well take the offer — but what would Pakistan gain? Another decade of being a frontline state, cannon fodder for someone else’s war, while its economy crumbles and its institutions decay?
Public diplomacy only works when it’s backed by public policy. Iran’s attempts to paint itself as a victim of Western aggression fall flat because it supplies drones to Russia and represses its own people. Pakistan suffers from a similar credibility gap. Its attempts to cast itself as a peacekeeper ring hollow while its soil continues to be used for launching ideological and actual attacks.
Even the optics are starting to fray. Former Foreign Minister Hina Rabbani Khar — once the photogenic face of a “new Pakistan” — could not escape association with a regime whose actions belied her words. The same applies now. You can’t preach moderation while wearing the camouflage of a military autocracy.
Ultimately, Pakistan’s public diplomacy will fail not because it lacks talent — but because it lacks truth.
In the end, you can’t charm your way out of geography, economics, or history. You can only delay the reckoning.