By Qamar Bashir

While the West devastated Afghanistan through decades of war, drone strikes, and foreign occupation, China took a different path—quiet, strategic, and respectful. As American troops dropped bombs and NATO scrambled for exits, China was building something far more enduring: relationships, trust, and long-term partnerships—not with governments or factions, but with the people themselves.

China never intervened in internal conflicts. It didn’t back one militia over another or try to redesign Afghanistan in its own image. Instead, it reached out to Afghan farmers, miners, traders, and workers—those who hold the real stake in a nation’s future. China didn’t issue ultimatums or demand allegiance. It offered trade, development, investment, and a shared vision rooted in mutual benefit. While others saw Afghanistan as a battlefield, China  saw it as a bridge. And now, that vision is taking form.

On May 21, 2025, a landmark “informal” meeting in Beijing brought together the foreign ministers of China, Pakistan, and Afghanistan. More than handshakes and smiles, it marked a strategic turning point: the decision to extend the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC) into Afghanistan. A decision that could not only reshape the region, but offer Afghanistan a real shot at peace—on Afghan terms.

CPEC, the flagship of China’s Belt and Road Initiative, has already transformed Pakistan with highways, ports, power plants, and rail links. Now, Afghanistan joins this evolving network—not as a dependent state, but as a vital partner. This is not just about infrastructure; it’s about integration. Roads will link not only cities, but economies. Corridors will connect not only markets, but destinies.

Importantly, the emphasis is not just on “hard” connectivity—rails, roads, ports—but also on “soft” connectivity: harmonizing regulations, easing trade, facilitating the movement of people, and respecting local customs and social structures. It’s a nuanced, sophisticated model. One that does not demand political alignment but offers economic alignment.

And within this spirit of integration, other dormant regional initiatives are regaining momentum—CASA-1000, TAPI, the Trans-Afghan Railway—each poised to support energy sharing, trade expansion, and regional mobility.

What sets China apart is its commitment to letting Afghanistan rebuild itself—on its own cultural, social, and religious terms. There is no political engineering. No social or cultural meddling. China is not offering a model to impose; it is offering a hand to uplift. And that matters in a land long scarred by foreign interference.

This new economic vision will allow Afghanistan to thrive the Afghan way. Under the guidance of its traditions, shaped by the values of its people, and led by the social fabric rooted in the Pashtunwali code, Afghanistan can now envision a future that is both modern and authentic.

In the same meeting, the three nations also addressed regional peace and stability with clarity and resolve. They jointly emphasized that no group or actor—whether Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) or the Eastern Turkistan Islamic Movement (ETIM)—would be allowed to use their territories to threaten regional security.

But this was not a military statement. It was a reaffirmation that true security is a product of stability and opportunity, not surveillance and subjugation. And for the first time in years, regional players are aligning not around ideology, but around infrastructure, integration, and mutual interest.

The commitment to non-interference in Afghanistan’s internal affairs—a principle stressed by all three parties—further highlights the maturity of this partnership. Where others tried to rule, this alliance seeks to support.

This development also sends a gentle but clear message to powers like the United States, the broader West, and even India: peace is not built through pressure or presence—it is earned through partnership.

India, in particular, is watching this shift with unease. Having long opposed CPEC due to its passage through Pakistan-administered Kashmir, New Delhi now sees its regional influence challenged by a deepening China-Afghanistan-Pakistan axis. Its strategic projects like Chabahar Port and regional outreach to Central Asia now face real competition.

But perhaps this is also a moment for reflection. What has military intervention achieved that peaceful development cannot exceed? What has isolation created that connectivity cannot heal?

Afghanistan, long viewed as a crossroads of conflict, is now being prepared to become a corridor of cooperation. With CPEC stretching into its heartlands, Afghan traders will gain access to global markets. Afghan workers will have new employment prospects. Afghan youth will see schools grow, roads built, and hope return.

This transformation won’t happen overnight—but it is no longer a fantasy. With $40–50 billion in projected regional investments, trade volume expected to multiply, and transit routes expanding across borders, Afghanistan is poised to become a pivot—linking South Asia to Central Asia, the Middle East, and beyond.

China’s approach isn’t just strategic—it is profoundly human. It understands that the way to build peace is to help people live with dignity. To give them something to lose—and thus, something to protect. And that’s exactly how China transformed Xinjiang—by investing in education, skills, industries, and livelihoods. Now, the same model is being softly replicated in Afghanistan.

With China’s integrated, respectful, and win-win approach, a new Afghanistan is within reach—one where terrorism fades into irrelevance, schools thrive, trade routes flourish, and airports once again welcome the world. Roads of international standard will connect the country to the region. Its corridors will pulse with economic life. Its cities will hum with opportunity.

And most importantly, this prosperity will belong to Afghans. It will be shaped by their traditions, guided by their values, lived according to their social norms, and honored through their timeless Pashtunwali code. No foreign model will be imposed. No social fabric will be rewritten. No cultural identity will be challenged.

This is not a distant hope. It is a near and unfolding reality. Under China’s guidance and with regional cooperation, Afghanistan is no longer the world’s forgotten battlefield. It is becoming its new bridge—linking civilizations, reviving ancient trade routes, and lighting a path toward shared peace and prosperity.

By Qamar Bashir

 Press Secretary to the President (Rtd)

 Former Press Minister at the Embassy of Pakistan to France

 Former MD, SRBC

 Macomb, Michigan, USA

by Muhammad Mohsin Iqbal

The tragedy that unfolded in Khuzdar, where innocent schoolchildren were mercilessly targeted in a despicable act of terrorism, has plunged the nation into mourning and deepened our resolve to confront the evil that stalks our land. This was not just an attack on young lives—it was a calculated strike against our future, a cowardly blow inflicted by an enemy that has repeatedly failed to subdue us on the battlefield and now turns to the slaughter of our children to quench its bitterness.

Why is it that the pure and innocent—the school-going children of Pakistan—are made victims of such heinous crimes? The nation still bears the scar of December 16, 2014, when terrorists stormed the Army Public School in Peshawar and massacred over 140 lives, most of them children. It was a day when the heavens wept, and the earth stood still in grief. Now, a similar nightmare has descended upon Khuzdar. The message from our enemy is unmistakable: if we cannot defeat you in combat, we will break you by murdering your young.

This strategy of targeting civilians and, worse, children, is not born of battlefield tactics but of desperation and inhuman cruelty. After the Peshawar attack, the Government of Pakistan presented a meticulously prepared dossier to the United Nations and other international bodies. That document provided clear, irrefutable evidence of Indian involvement in planning and supporting the terrorists behind the massacre. It detailed communications intercepted between operatives in Afghanistan and handlers linked to Indian intelligence agencies. It revealed funding channels traced back to Indian sources and the use of Afghan soil under Indian patronage for orchestrating the attack.

And yet, despite the gravity of these revelations, the international community remained disturbingly indifferent. The dossier, which should have led to firm diplomatic consequences and international condemnation, was quietly shelved. Justice was neither demanded nor delivered. If that evidence had been given the seriousness it warranted, if India had been held accountable in 2014, perhaps Khuzdar would never have happened.

Allah Almighty has warned in the Holy Qur’an:

“And do not kill the soul which Allah has forbidden, except by right…” (Surah Al-Isra, 17:33)

This divine commandment is not only a cornerstone of Islamic jurisprudence but a universal moral truth. The murder of innocent souls, particularly children, is an abomination that cries out to the heavens. The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) forbade the killing of women and children even during war. In an authentic Hadith, he said:

“Do not kill any child, any woman, or any elder or sick person.” (Sunan Abu Dawood)

Such teachings starkly contrast with the barbarity we witnessed in Khuzdar and earlier in Peshawar.

It is time we stand firm and loud against this injustice. Pakistan must revive the 2014 dossier and present it again, now alongside the new evidence emerging from the Khuzdar incident. The patterns are too similar, the motives too familiar, and the enemy too well known for this to be dismissed as coincidence. From covert operations in Balochistan to the funding of separatist and terrorist outfits, India has waged a shadow war against Pakistan for years, often targeting those least able to defend themselves.

The world is well aware of the states that have made brutality their policy. Whether in Gaza or Kashmir, whether it is Israel or India, it is the same thirst for horror that drives bullets into the hearts of children, women, and peaceful citizens. Yet, these powerful nations hide behind diplomatic cloaks and international alliances, while the blood of the innocent continues to flow.

Pakistan must now formulate a coherent and assertive policy that goes beyond statements of condemnation. We must unite our civil and military intelligence, strengthen border surveillance, and take the diplomatic offensive. The world must be shown—again and again—what our enemy is capable of, not with accusations, but with proof, dossiers, and undeniable facts. Let the Khuzdar tragedy become a rallying cry for international justice, not a forgotten headline.

At the same time, we must prepare to respond with the same strength and strategy that has led us to victory on the battlefield. The resolve that broke the back of terrorism after Peshawar must be renewed, and our security apparatus revitalized. We must never let our enemy believe that targeting children can break our will. It cannot—and it will not.

Let this also be a moment of soul-searching for the global conscience. How many more children must die before the world acts not out of politics, but out of principle? How many more coffins must be lowered before justice is no longer selective?

The Holy Qur’an says:

“Whoever kills a soul…it is as if he had slain mankind entirely. And whoever saves one—it is as if he had saved mankind entirely.” (Surah Al-Ma’idah, 5:32)

Our mission, then, is not only national but profoundly human. We owe it to the martyrs of Peshawar, to the victims of Khuzdar, and to every tear-stained mother’s prayer. The enemy seeks to instil fear; we must answer with unity, justice, and truth.

We can no longer afford silence. The blood of our children is louder than any speech, and it demands justice with a voice no nation can dare ignore.