By: Filza Asim

The Strategic Mutual Defense Agreement (SMDA) signed earlier this month was meant to be a message of unity: Pakistan and its partners are committed to confronting terrorism, not accommodating it. Yet almost immediately, a counter-narrative emerged, one designed to malign Pakistan’s security institutions and exploit a human tragedy in Tirah for narrow political ends.

India, the BLA, the TTP and now Imran Khan’s PTI have found common cause in portraying Pakistan’s counter-terrorism struggle as illegitimate. Within hours of the SMDA’s signing, PTI spokesmen, allied social media networks, and PTM activists began claiming that 30 civilians were killed in Tirah by jet airstrikes. Emotion spread faster than verification, and the tragedy was converted into political capital.

This campaign was cynically reinforced from behind bars. On September 21, 2025, Imran Khan — a convicted leader stripped of credibility had his message smuggled out to supporters, declaring he would “not bow down” and calling for nationwide protests on September 27. Far from a show of courage, it was a calculated ploy: to cloak his own failures in defiance and to weaponize tragedy for political survival. PTI’s digital machinery and its sister networks, including PTM, instantly pounced on the Tirah incident, twisting it into propaganda against Pakistan’s security forces. In doing so, Khan once again proved that his politics thrive not on peace or stability, but on chaos, disinformation, and the blood of innocents.

But this is not an isolated act of political opportunism. PTI’s 12-year dominance in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, its consistent refusal to back operations in “sensitive” tribal zones, and its decision in 2021 to resettle militants under the guise of “negotiations” have left deep vulnerabilities. Imran Khan’s long-documented sympathies for Taliban narratives rooted in his ideological affinity for Afghanistan have repeatedly subordinated Pakistan’s security priorities to his own political calculus. Tirah is only the latest example of how that legacy plays out in practice.

The PTI–PTM story of 30 civilian deaths raises more questions than it answers. And those questions are not peripheral; they go to the very heart of its credibility.

First, the numbers: the police have confirmed 24 dead. Lists and funerals have been published for 10 named victims. Where are the identities of the other 14 people? Who received their bodies and who performed their funerals? PTI cannot produce these names because they do not exist in the way their narrative claims. This vacuum, however, has been filled with amplification by PTI’s digital machinery and sympathetic social media networks often in coordination with radical Indian institutions and proxy outlets eager to undermine Pakistan’s security forces. The result is a concerted campaign of disinformation, where tragedy is transformed into propaganda, and the truth of counter-terrorism operations in Tirah is deliberately obscured.

Second, local accounts describe debris patterns and eyewitness detail suggesting that the explosion began inside a dwelling or compound consistent with a detonation at an IED-manufacturing site, not an external air-burst. If jets had struck, where is the crater? If homes were hit by a high-order air weapon, the forensic evidence would be obvious. PTI and PTM deliberately ignore these facts because they destroy their propaganda.

Third, residents and recordings must be cross-checked: was the sound of high-flying jets heard locally, or is “aircraft noise” being manufactured by PTI’s social media cells to sell a story abroad? Tirah is not a silent plain where aircraft can slip by unnoticed; it is a narrow valley, surrounded by rugged mountains where the sound of fighter jets reverberates for miles. If there had been an airstrike, the roar of aircraft would have been unmistakable to every villager, and a massive crater would mark the ground. Instead, what investigators and locals found was debris blown outward, clear evidence of an internal blast, consistent with an IED facility detonating from within. The absence of both the noise and the crater is not a minor omission; it is proof that PTI’s claim of an “airstrike” is fiction designed for propaganda.

Fourth, if the state is to pay compensation, who exactly are the beneficiaries in the cases of the unconfirmed dead? If only 10 people are named, who will receive the one crore rupees for each of the other 14? And if entire households were truly annihilated, who receives the 25 crore rupees? PTI has no answer, because it was never about victims, it is about weaponizing grief for political mileage.
The reality is simple: PTI is using Tirah to polish its politics. The job of the state is to eliminate terrorism. If there were no terrorists in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, this explosion would not have occurred. But instead of helping to root out terror networks, PTI continues to sacrifice national security for the sake of one man.

Consider the Chief Minister’s claim that the province “has no control” over what the military does. After the 18th Amendment, however, law and order is the constitutional responsibility of the provincial government. Shouldn’t PTI first be asked what it did to eliminate terrorism during its 12 years of governance in KP? Passing the buck today is both dishonest and dangerous.

Why does this matter beyond one valley? Because, officials point out, PTI’s political calculus has long privileged mobilization over mitigation. Critics allege that during PTI’s years of influence in KP, formal reconciliation and ad hoc settlements allowed elements of the Fitna al-Khawarij (FAK) to resettle in border districts. Why does PTI oppose targeted operations against Fitnah al-Khawarij? Because these militants are a political tool. They were settled in KP during PTI’s rule. They provide a parallel power base in border areas. PTI resists the presence of security forces because it undermines their hold.

The connection is not speculative. PTI’s own rhetoric provides cover, its protests weaken resolve, and its alliances with PTM amplify propaganda. The result is a systematic attempt to shield terrorists from decisive action while pretending to champion “civil rights.”
Those critics now accuse the party of treating these elements as political instruments: opposing security-force presence, resisting operations, and then using any civilian cost that follows as a propaganda cudgel. The Tirah episode, they say, is a case study: PTI’s descent into lashon ki siyasat — politics of corpses. Just as PTM once paraded bodies in Tirah for political mileage, PTI now adopts the same script. By picking up the tragedy of locals killed by their own cohabitation with terrorists, PTI paints the state as the aggressor and absolves the real culprits: the terror networks operating within communities.

The pattern was also visible in Bannu on September 2, when militants stormed a Frontier Constabulary base in a 12-hour battle that claimed six security personnel and six militants. Instead of acknowledging the sacrifice of shuhada, PTI voices cast blame elsewhere. Yet it is KP’s government that must answer for how such networks continue to regroup. Governance failures, not federal inertia, create the gaps terrorist’s exploit.

This strategy is not only reckless but cruel. It reduces human suffering to political currency and emboldens militants who thrive on confusion and division.

Some of PTI’s behavior reflects deeper roots. Imran Khan’s ideological affinity for Afghanistan and his early sympathy for Taliban narratives is well-documented. Since the early 2000s, he has argued for appeasement, a posture critics say amounts to providing political cover. Over 12 years of PTI’s influence in KP, one of Pakistan’s gravest strategic mistakes was made: refusing to allow full-scale operations in contested zones under the pretext of “political sensitivity.”

This was not governance; it was abdication. Niazi received a relatively peaceful Pakistan but brought terrorism back through his indulgence of Fitnah al-Khawarij. In 2021, his government even allowed the resettlement of around 45,000 militants in the province. Today, PTI resists every serious effort to conduct operations against them, using protests and propaganda to paralyze public resolve.
This pattern has international consequences. After the SMDA was signed, foreign partners watched for evidence that Pakistan is prepared to act decisively and transparently. Instead, they saw competing narratives some pushed by hostile external actors and some by domestic politicians that feed skepticism about Pakistan’s control of its own territory. India’s information operations have predictably seized the moment; so too have regional extremists who benefit when public trust in counter-terrorism collapses. The result is a double blow: the state is forced to spend energy rebutting falsehoods, and international cooperation is complicated by questions of credibility.
There is also a moral dimension: the sacrifices of Pakistan’s shuhada must not be turned into bargaining chips. The state and society cannot allow the dead to be instrumented for partisan advantage. Pakistan’s soldiers, policemen, and tribal allies have given their lives in this fight. Their sacrifices will not be allowed to go to waste for the sake of selfish politicians. Locals of terrorism-struck areas face a clear choice: continue to cohabit with militants and suffer, or rise and expel them. Political forces that provide narrative cover to terrorism will be treated as facilitators and dealt with sternly. What cannot stand is a politics that accelerates confusion while shielding those who profit from it.

To be explicit about responsibility: after the 18th Amendment, provincial governments carry primary duties over law and order. If militants were resettled in KP under any administration’s watch and security sources and local elders allege this occurred on a large-scale provincial authorities must explain why. Why were contested zones declared “politically sensitive” and thereby left immune from full operations? Why were local security structures allowed to atrophy? These are not rhetorical questions; they are demands for governance that the people of KP, who bear the brunt of violence have a right to ask.

There are concrete steps the state, civil society and the international community should insist upon now. First, a transparent, forensic inquiry into the Tirah explosion whose findings are published in full. Second, an independent roll-call of the deceased to resolve the unanswered questions about identities and burial records. Third, immediate protection and compensation protocols that follow the rule of law, distributed to verified next of kin, not channeled through partisan intermediaries. Fourth, urgent measures to remove militant sanctuaries in accord with judicial oversight and human-rights protections so that communities do not have to choose between cohabitation with terror and exile.

Finally, the political element must be named and neutralized. PTI’s pattern of “politics of corpses” using traumatic events for political mileage while opposing the very operations that prevent such tragedies has corroded public trust. Whether through statements that demonize security efforts, boycotts of oversight committees, or amplified social-media disinformation, those who facilitate narratives that obstruct counter-terrorism should be held accountable through lawful means. That includes public investigations and legal scrutiny of networks that knowingly spread falsehoods or protect violent actors.

The Tirah explosion is a test not just of operational competence but of national coherence. Pakistan faces adversaries who seek to delegitimize its institutions and profit from division. The SMDA was meant to demonstrate Pakistan’s resolve; to make it meaningful, the country must close the gap between policy and practice. That begins with answers to the simple questions about the dead in Tirah, and extends to a national refusal to allow politics to shield terror. The world will judge Pakistan by how it responds: with truth and accountability, or with the spectacle of competing lies. The choice must be clear.

*Opinions expressed in this article are the writer's own and do not necessarily reflect the editorial policy of The South Asia Times