Pakistan’s offer to help the United States recover weapons left behind in Afghanistan reflects a blend of strategic necessity, diplomatic recalibration, and accumulated fatigue from decades of regional instability. The gesture aims to curb the flow of advanced arms empowering militant groups, reopen a functional channel with Washington, and subtly position Pakistan as an interpreter between the US and China. Yet the commentary argues that without normalising relations with India and abandoning destabilising impulses, Pakistan’s broader security aspirations will remain constrained.
Pakistan’s military offer to help the United States recover weapons left behind in Afghanistan is not just a strategic move; it carries the weight of long memory and lived experience. It comes from a country that has absorbed the human costs of regional wars for decades—through instability, displacement, and the quiet grief of families who have buried soldiers and civilians alike. At one level, this offer is about security: reducing the flow of dangerous weapons that threaten Pakistan’s own people. At another, it is about dignity: reclaiming agency in a relationship that has often been transactional and unequal. More deeply, the initiative reflects Pakistan’s evolving understanding of its place in a world increasingly shaped by US–China rivalry. Washington’s interest in Islamabad today is not only about Afghanistan, but also about Beijing. The US wants to understand what China seeks in Pakistan, why it invests so heavily in rebuilding Pakistan’s defense, and how Chinese military systems operate in real conditions. Pakistan, uniquely close to both powers in different ways, becomes a quiet interpreter between two giants that no longer fully trust each other. This commentary argues that Pakistan’s offer is an attempt to transform its identity in international politics—from a reactive state shaped by crisis to a reflective actor offering stability, insight, and communication. It is driven by realism, but also by fatigue: fatigue from being misunderstood, from being needed only in moments of war, and from carrying burdens that rarely make headlines. In this sense, the gesture is as human as it is strategic. However, such diplomatic reconciliation with Washington and Beijing may not secure peace for Islamabad, until it repairs its relations with New Delhi.
Introduction
In international politics, gestures often matter as much as grand strategies. In this context, it is useful to analyse the offer of Pakistan, as reported primarily in Afghan media, to help US reclaim its weapons left behind in Afghanistan. Both the US[1] and Pakistan believe[2] that these weapons are falling into the hands of militants and add to the security worries of both the countries in the region.
Pakistan’s military reportedly offering assistance to the United States in its efforts to recover weapons left behind[3] in Afghanistan is one such gesture—quiet, technical on the surface, but heavy with symbolic and strategic meaning. Since 2001, Pakistan–US relations have oscillated between partnership and suspicion, shaped by what Stephen Walt in The Origins of Alliances describes as the uneasy logic of threat-driven cooperation. When the shared threat fades, so too does the glue that holds alliances together.
After the US withdrawal from Afghanistan in 2021, Washington disengaged from the region politically and militarily, while Pakistan, initially confident that Taliban would naturally come under its spell, was faced with unexpected consequences of the withdrawal: a volatile border, emboldened militant networks enjoying the goodwill of the Taliban, and an influx of advanced weaponry into non-state hands. Estimates by security analysts and military observers suggest that tens of billions of dollars’ worth of equipment—ranging from small arms to night-vision devices and armored vehicles—were abandoned or captured.
For Pakistan, this was not an abstract geopolitical issue; it translated into higher casualty risks for soldiers, police, and civilians. Thus, the offer to help recover US equipment is less about pleasing Washington and more about stabilising Pakistan’s own security environment while reopening a diplomatic channel that had grown cold. It is a move rooted in necessity, not sentiment.
Weapons without Borders, Insecurity without Limits
Weapons do not remain neutral objects once they cross into fragile political spaces. As Mary Kaldor argues in New and Old Wars, modern conflict is increasingly shaped by the circulation of arms among non-state actors, blurring the line between battlefield and civilian life.
Afghanistan’s abandoned US military equipment has followed precisely this pattern. Reports of militants using advanced rifles, optics, and communication gear along Pakistan’s western border are not symbolic—they are operational realities. For Pakistan, assisting in the recovery of these weapons is a form of defensive realism. Kenneth Waltz in Theory of International Politics reminds us that states act primarily to preserve their security under anarchy. This initiative is not charity toward Washington; it is self-help. Each recovered weapon potentially removes a future ambush, a future bombing, a future funeral.
The argument is straightforward: cooperation becomes rational when insecurity is shared. Pakistan’s military understands that flow of unregulated weapons increases the operational capacity of militant groups like the TTP and ISKP. Helping the US locate and neutralise these weapons is therefore a cost-effective extension of Pakistan’s own counterterrorism strategy. But there is also a moral dimension. In border villages, insecurity is not measured through strategic doctrines but in terms of whether children can walk to school safely. This human cost gives Pakistan’s offer an urgency that academic abstractions alone cannot capture.
This initiative reflects what Hans Morgenthau in Politics Among Nations called interest defined in terms of power, stripped of ideological illusions. Pakistan is not attempting to revive the emotional language of partnership that once characterised the War on Terror era. Instead, it is offering functional cooperation in a narrow domain where interests overlap.
The United States, though less militarily engaged in South Asia, still cares deeply about the proliferation of its advanced weaponry. These arms carry technological, reputational, and strategic risks. If such equipment is reverse-engineered, sold, or used in future conflicts, the consequences extend far beyond Afghanistan.
From Pakistan’s perspective, this creates a leverage. As Glenn Snyder writes in Alliance Politics, smaller powers often gain influence not through dominance but through strategic indispensability. By positioning itself as a problem-solver in a complex post-withdrawal environment, Pakistan regains diplomatic relevance without demanding sweeping commitments.
Yet, this reset is intentionally kept at a modest level. It avoids the overreach of past alliances that burdened Pakistan with impossible expectations and Washington with unreliable outcomes. It is cooperation without dependency, engagement without entanglement. In a region exhausted by grand failures, this show of restraint demonstrates Islamabad’s diplomatic opportunism seeking to improve relations with the US by all means, as it is determined to hedge against India.
No bilateral relationship between states is purely rational; it is also partly emotional, shaped by memory, disappointment, and fatigue. Pakistan–US ties have suffered from what Robert Jervis in Perception and Misperception in InternationalPolitics describes as “historical baggage,” where past grievances distort present intentions. Pakistan remembers abandonment after the Soviet-Afghan war and sanctions in the 1990s. The US, on its part, remembers duplicity, unmet expectations, and strategic frustration. This offer from Islamabad, therefore, is not just logistical—it is an attempt to speak in a calmer, more credible tone.
However, trust will not be rebuilt by a single initiative. At best, this move creates what Hedley Bull in The Anarchical Society called a thin layer of order within an otherwise competitive system. It reduces uncertainty, slightly narrows suspicion, and creates space for dialogue. One must also remember that behind every diplomatic decision are officers, diplomats, and analysts who have spent decades watching this relationship rise and fall. This initiative feels like a quiet acknowledgment of shared exhaustion. It says: perhaps we cannot fix everything, but we can fix something.
Intelligence, Influence, and Strategic Mediation
America’s renewed interest in Pakistan is inseparable from its deepening strategic anxiety about China. As John Mearsheimer argues in The Tragedy of Great Power Politics, rising powers inevitably provoke counter-balancing behaviour, and today China occupies the same structural position that the Soviet Union once did in American strategic thinking.
Pakistan, positioned at the intersection of Chinese military, economic, and technological engagement, becomes not merely a regional actor but a potential strategic lens through which Washington can better understand Beijing. China’s sustained investment in Pakistan’s defence infrastructure—ranging from joint production of fighter aircraft like the JF-17, to naval modernisation, missile technology cooperation, and cyber and surveillance capabilities—has transformed Pakistan into a living laboratory of Chinese military doctrine in practice.
For the United States, this is invaluable. Pakistan is not just China’s partner; it is a testing ground where Chinese systems are operationalised under real security conditions. As Andrew Scobell notes in China’s Use of Military Power, Beijing prefers indirect projection of power through trusted partners rather than overt forward deployment. Pakistan fits this model with remarkable precision.
Washington’s curiosity goes beyond weapons. It wants to know why China is so invested in Pakistan. Is it about access to the Arabian Sea? Is it about securing western China? Is it about minerals, rare earths, and energy corridors? Or is Pakistan the geopolitical hinge through which China hopes to stabilise its Belt and Road ambitions?
David Shambaugh in China Goes Global emphasizes that China’s overseas engagements are never purely economic; they are strategic hedges against vulnerability. Pakistan offers China depth, insulation, and strategic leverage in South Asia. Here, Pakistan’s role becomes quietly powerful.
It is perhaps the only state that can speak to Washington not in abstractions, but from experience—about how China negotiates, what it prioritises, how it transfers defence technology, and how its military culture operates. This is not espionage; it is strategic translation. In international politics, those who understand two rival systems become indispensable bridges. Humanly speaking, this places Pakistan in a rare position of responsibility.
Pakistan is no longer just choosing between powers; it is managing perceptions between them. Pakistan’s offer to assist the US on Afghanistan-related security matters therefore also serves a larger, unspoken function: signaling that Islamabad remains open to dialogue with Washington even as its partnership with Beijing deepens.
As Hedley Bull reminds us in The Anarchical Society, order is maintained not only by power but by communication between power centers. Pakistan, by virtue of its proximity to China and its history with the United States, becomes one of the few actors capable of sustaining that communication. In an era increasingly defined by suspicion, that role is not small—it is strategic.
Conclusion
Pakistan’s offer to assist in recovering US weapons from Afghanistan is not about rewriting history; it is about learning from it. It reflects a quieter kind of confidence, one that does not seek applause or dramatic alliances, but seeks usefulness and respect. By addressing the immediate danger posed by abandoned weapons, Pakistan protects its own people. By reopening a practical channel with Washington, it restores a sense of mutual responsibility. And by acknowledging its unique relationship with China, it accepts a role that is both delicate and powerful.
Pakistan stands at a crossroads between two worlds: one shaped by its long, complicated partnership with the United States, and another shaped by its deepening strategic bond with China. Few countries carry such a position without being pulled apart. Yet this moment shows Pakistan trying to turn that pressure into purpose. It is saying, in effect, that it can be more than a battlefield for others’ rivalries—it can be a place where understanding begins.
This is a story of a nation seeking to be seen not just for its crises, but for its capacity to contribute to stability. It is a reminder that states, like people, want to be trusted, respected, and heard. Pakistan’s gesture is small in appearance, but it carries a quiet hope: that in a world growing more divided, someone still has the courage to build bridges rather than walls.
The devil, however, is in the details. Pakistan’s security is not either a function of US-China relations or its effort to strike a strategic balance between the two. It’s quiet confidence and diplomatic opportunism currently at work may not yet deliver on the security front, if it does not normalise its relations with India that continues to pose a critical strategic challenge stifling its aspirations. The negative impulses arising out of its temptation to use terrorism as an instrument vis-à -vis India engender a polluted security environment where its clever attempt to build ties with two competing consequential powers (read US and China) may not help moderate the persisting internal security threats it is confronted with.
Dr. Syed Eesar Mehdi is a Research Fellow at the International Centre for Peace Studies, New Delhi, India.
Endnotes
1. Rick Noack, Alex Horton, Haq Nawaz Khan and Shaiq Hussain, “U.S. weapons from Afghan war give Pakistani militants a deadly advantage”, Washington Post, 14 April 2025
2. “US Weapons used in Jafar Express Attack?”, Wion TV, 13 March 2025, at
3. Rana, “Pakistan Offers U.S. Cooperation to Recover American Weapons Left in Afghanistan”, RANA TV, 13 January 2026.
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