ByKHALID KHAN Political Analyst

Ever since Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif announced the formation of a committee to revive the traditional tribal jirga, a sense of unease has been palpable. Thinkers within the tribal society are anxious, voicing concerns that this may signal an attempt to undo the seven-year-old merger and return to the old, familiar ways.

Once again, the Pashtun tribes find themselves at a historic juncture. Back then, just as now, public opinion was divided—some championing integration, others defending the legacy of self-governance. This piece attempts to weave tribal struggles with historical truth, pointing the way forward.

It was the British Raj that planted ideas of honour, resistance, and freedom into the minds of Pashtun tribes—a psychological weapon of control that has since taken deep root. Though the British had little difficulty in controlling the region militarily, they chose to embed a myth: that the tribes were invincible. They wanted the world to fear them and the tribes to revel in their perceived strength.

But behind the scenes, the British employed a shrewd formula: empowering local elders, emboldening religious figures, and enforcing the draconian Frontier Crimes Regulation through Political Agents. The result was a manufactured resistance, carefully managed and fully contained.

Roads, the arteries of development, were left unbuilt—not by oversight but by design. Even tribal consent was engineered to stall progress. Except for the defiant Faqir of Ipi, most tribal voices had already been silenced. The tribal region was used as a buffer against Russia—a geopolitical chess piece that remained so under Pakistan as well.

Eventually, modernity called for the merger of these areas into Khyber Pakhtunkhwa. Yet the dream turned sour. Institutions failed to take root, governance remained symbolic, and the promised transformation never arrived. Even now, the tribal belt sits uneasily with the rest of the country—its presence patched on like borrowed cloth.

Politics, too, failed to take hold. There was no Bacha Khan to sow reform, nor was there a Sammad Khan to organise the struggle. In the absence of political maturity, underdevelopment took root.

Yet global dynamics are shifting, and the tribal belt now lies at the heart of a strategic opportunity. Pakistan has entered into an understanding with the United States over vast untapped minerals—deals that promise trillions of dollars in investment and technology transfer. Youth will find work. Towns will prosper. A new chapter could begin.

But America needs stability, order, and strong governance. Peace must be more than a slogan. The state must function—truly function. But seven years of neglect have left gaps. Terror still simmers. Cross-border infiltrations continue. Even if the army holds the line, civil governance is largely absent.

What Americans envision is a Dubai-like future: smooth highways, uninterrupted power, modern hospitals, parks, leisure zones, and all the urban comforts. But time is short, and expectations are high. The merger will not be reversed, nor will a dual system be implemented. And yet, visible respect for democracy and human rights is non-negotiable—not because the U.S. believes in them wholeheartedly, but because global optics demand it. This time, America comes not for war but for business.

Once extraction begins, the real turmoil may start with land disputes, ownership claims, and inter-tribal tensions. The existing judicial system is too broken to provide timely justice. Neither side has the luxury of patience.

What follows will be a controlled compromise: a steering body—a union of U.S. actors, Pakistani bureaucracy, and the military—to ensure smooth operation, not perfection but satisfaction.

And there must be a jirga—not one of verdicts and punishments, but of understanding and negotiation. A forum that maintains peace facilitates deals and keeps dissent at bay. It will be the state's tool for tribal management—transactional, not traditional.

This is not a return to the past. It's an evolution—a strategic, necessary redesign of an old institution—reborn for a new and uncertain future.

ABOUT THE WRITER:

Khalid Khan is a senior journalist, poet, and writer based in Peshawar, Pakistan. He covers terrorism, the tribal belt, Afghanistan, politics, and human rights, blending sharp analysis with human-centred storytelling across national and international media.