When Mullah Abdul Ghani Baradar, Afghanistan’s Deputy Prime Minister, directed Afghan traders to reduce their dependence on Pakistan and seek alternative routes for trade, it was more than just an economic instruction. It was a political statement — a calculated response to the growing chill between Kabul and Islamabad. The order to shift imports, particularly medicines, to suppliers in other countries was framed as an economic realignment, yet it revealed something deeper: a fracture in a relationship that once seemed unbreakable, forged by geography, religion and shared history but now corroded by mistrust and competing interests.
For decades, Pakistan served as Afghanistan’s most vital commercial lifeline. Almost 60 percent of Afghan imports and exports once moved through Pakistani soil, primarily via the Karachi port and overland through the Torkham and Chaman crossings. But the tides have changed. Kabul’s new directive reflects an emerging strategy of economic independence — or at least the appearance of it — even as its landlocked position continues to tether it to its neighbors. Afghanistan, under Taliban rule, is trying to project self-reliance by opening trade channels through Iran’s Chabahar port, the Central Asian republics, and increasingly, China. Yet for a country with limited infrastructure and ongoing international isolation, such ambitions are easier declared than delivered.
The more interesting question is whether Pakistan will feel the shock of this economic break-up. On paper, perhaps less than expected. Over the last two years, Islamabad has quietly prepared for this possibility. Recognizing the volatility of its western border, Pakistan began diversifying its regional trade strategy as early as 2023, establishing new pathways that bypass Afghanistan altogether. The National Logistics Corporation (NLC), a government-run freight company, took the lead. In a landmark operation, NLC dispatched Pakistan’s first commercial cargo to Kyrgyzstan through China under the United Nations’ TIR (Transports Internationaux Routiers) system — a global framework designed to simplify and secure international transport.
That single shipment represented more than a logistical success. It was a statement of intent: Pakistan was no longer content to have its trade destiny dictated by Afghan politics or Taliban unpredictability. From that point onward, Pakistan expanded its outreach. Goods began moving towards Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan, tapping into Central Asia’s emerging markets. The routes through China, particularly via the Khunjerab Pass and the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC), became arteries for a broader commercial vision — one that could eventually stretch from Gwadar to Bishkek, and even further to Moscow and Europe.
In many ways, this gradual decoupling from Afghanistan was inevitable. The relationship between the two countries has long been fraught with suspicion. Islamabad accuses Kabul of harboring militants who launch attacks inside Pakistan, while the Taliban government claims Pakistani airstrikes and border restrictions are strangling Afghanistan’s economy. Each side insists it is acting in self-defence, yet both continue to bleed politically and economically from the fallout. Against this backdrop, trade was bound to become another casualty.
Still, the human cost cannot be ignored. Thousands of small traders, transporters, and laborers on both sides of the Durand Line have been thrown into uncertainty. The bustling border towns that once thrived on cross-border commerce — Spin Boldak, Chaman, Torkham — now bear witness to long queues of stranded trucks, empty warehouses, and frustrated traders unsure where to turn next. For many Afghans, Pakistan remains the most accessible and affordable market, particularly for essentials such as wheat, cooking oil, cement, and pharmaceuticals. A sudden rupture in these supply chains risks creating inflationary pressure and shortages that Kabul’s fragile economy can scarcely withstand.
Pakistan, meanwhile, is attempting to pivot eastward and northward. By deepening its engagement with Central Asia, it is seeking not just new markets but also geopolitical leverage. These routes offer more than trade; they promise connectivity — a chance for Pakistan to position itself as a gateway between South and Central Asia, between the Arabian Sea and Eurasia. If successful, this could transform its regional relevance. The TIR system, which allows goods to move seamlessly across borders under international guarantees, could give Pakistani exporters the predictability they have long lacked when dealing with Afghan customs and transit hurdles.
Yet optimism must be tempered by realism. Pakistan’s alternative routes are still developing. The Khunjerab Pass remains closed for months due to harsh weather. CPEC’s northern stretches are operational but not yet fully efficient. And Central Asian markets, while promising, are limited in size compared with Pakistan’s historical trade volume with Afghanistan. Replacing a neighbor’s market is not simply a matter of finding another road; it is about building enduring demand, trust, and reliability — all of which take time.
Diplomatically, both countries appear trapped in a cycle of grievance and retaliation. Pakistan’s accusations that Afghan soil is being used by the banned Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) have grown louder. The Taliban, in turn, blame Islamabad for border closures, deportations, and what they call “economic coercion.” In this tense atmosphere, even minor trade decisions acquire symbolic weight. Baradar’s directive, therefore, was as much about politics as economics — a signal to Pakistan that Afghanistan is not without options, even if those options remain limited and costly.
But there is another side to the story — one that speaks to regional interdependence rather than rivalry. The truth is that neither country can afford complete disengagement. Pakistan’s access to Central Asia is most practical through Afghanistan’s geography, just as Afghanistan’s access to the sea remains tied to Pakistan’s ports. Geography is destiny, and for both nations, destiny is shared. The challenge, then, is to navigate this interdependence without succumbing to hostility.
In recent years, several international actors, including China, Turkey, and Qatar, have encouraged Pakistan and Afghanistan to normalize trade relations. These efforts have yet to bear fruit, but they point towards a recognition that regional prosperity hinges on cooperation, not confrontation. The alternative is stagnation — or worse, renewed conflict spilling into commerce.
Pakistan’s pivot to Central Asia is a prudent hedge against instability. However, it is not a complete solution. Trade diversification can buffer the economy, yet peace and prosperity in the borderlands will depend on something less tangible but more crucial: political understanding. Without it, every new road and corridor will remain vulnerable to the old problems — mistrust, militancy, and miscalculation.
So, has Pakistan found an alternative to Afghanistan? Technically, yes. However, in the broader sense, the two remain bound by history, geography, and necessity. The routes may change, the goods may move elsewhere, but the region’s stability will still depend on whether Kabul and Islamabad can learn to coexist as partners rather than rivals. For now, both are moving in opposite directions — one seeking independence, the other diversification — yet neither can truly succeed without the other.
In this shifting landscape, Pakistan’s challenge is not merely to find new markets but to build new relationships based on respect and pragmatism. For Afghanistan, the challenge is to balance its desire for autonomy with the realities of its dependence. The roads from Karachi to Bishkek may be opening, but the path to lasting regional harmony remains, as ever, under construction.
