By Uzma Ehtasham
The ceasefire between the United States and Iran may be holding, for now, but the air remains thick with menace. The verbal trench warfare, the calculated humiliations, the relentless ratcheting up of threats – all of it has wrapped the world in a kind of low‑grade dread that no diplomatic communiqué can quite dispel. This is no longer a regional quarrel. It has become a challenge to the very survival of a globalized civilization already reeling from pandemic, climate breakdown and inequality. Popes and secretaries‑general, religious leaders and public intellectuals have all pleaded with the two sides to grab hold of reason. Pope Leo has sharply criticized Donald Trump’s policies. António Guterres, the UN secretary‑general, has called the president’s warmongering a threat to world peace and endorsed Pakistan’s efforts to keep the Gulf from exploding.
His deputy, Amina J. Mohammed, shook the conscience of the world when she declared that beasts have taken over the planet and humanity has lost its way. What frightens people most is not the conventional fighting, terrible as that already is. It is the specter of the nuclear. If this conflict goes atomic, then every living thing on earth stares into the abyss. But even if the world dodges that apocalyptic bullet, the economic havoc already unleashed – galloping inflation, spreading famine, the strangulation of global trade – may sound the death knell for human survival in a slower, crueler manner. Iran, through Pakistan, has repeatedly sent ceasefire proposals to Washington. And repeatedly, President Trump has dismissed them with a show of theatrical dissatisfaction. The latest Iranian offer, quietly handed over only days ago, has met the same fate.
In response, Iran’s supreme leader, Ayatollah Mojtaba Ali Khamenei, declared that his nation has proven its superiority over its enemies. That kind of boast, in this tinderbox atmosphere, could easily reignite open warfare – precisely when the survival of humanity depends on clearing the air of precisely this uncertainty. Into this volatile scene stepped Dr Mahir, an IMF economist, speaking at a recent SDPI event. Her warning was characteristically blunt: the Gulf war has hit Pakistan and other developing countries with a “harsh and multidimensional economic shock”. Rising food and energy prices, she said, will make it impossible for nations like Pakistan to stay on their feet. That is not alarmism. It is a simple reading of the books. Consider the past six weeks alone.
The inflation graph in Pakistan has climbed more steeply than in some countries directly touched by the fighting. The government, meanwhile, has raised petroleum prices every week or ten days, handing profiteering cartels rare opportunities to loot the public. The Federal Bureau of Statistics reported this week that inflation has reached its highest level in twenty‑one months. A twenty‑kilogram bag of flour is 240 rupees dearer. Transport fares have jumped 30 per cent. Rents, electricity, water and gas bills have risen by up to 17 per cent. Essentials for the table have gone up between 10 and 20 per cent. For the poor and the unemployed, just drawing breath has become a struggle. The heat from the Gulf flames has reached the hearths of ordinary people thousands of miles away.
There is no mystery here. The standoff between Washington and Tehran, the rhetorical duels, the continued uncertainty despite a fragile truce – these have rattled the global economy to its core. And the heaviest blows fall on those countries already staggering under debt, import dependence and chronic inflation. Pakistan is one of them. Its foreign exchange reserves are thin, industrial growth sluggish, unemployment climbing remorselessly. When oil, gas, wheat and other staples become dear on world markets, an import‑dependent economy has no room to maneuver. The recent inflation data merely confirms the scale of the disaster.
What is often forgotten, in the fog of war talk, is that conflict does not only disrupt supply chains. It shatters confidence. Investment, foreign and domestic, freezes. Local businesses stall. The currency wobbles. Financial markets succumb to vertigo. For a country like Pakistan, where exports and external investment are vital to any hope of stability, prolonged global tension is a slow‑acting poison. And the slow, ego‑driven dance between Washington and Tehran – each side seemingly more concerned with saving face than saving lives – is the chief obstacle to a real resolution. The ceasefire may technically hold, but without serious confidence‑building, without patient and grown‑up diplomacy, the world will remain trapped under the shadow of uncertainty.
This places a double burden on Pakistan. On the one hand, its government has been quietly and competently playing a positive diplomatic role, shuttling proposals and trying to keep communication lines open – an effort that deserves more recognition than it has received. On the other hand, the same government must act urgently and effectively at home to shield its people from the tidal wave of inflation. So far, it has failed. The weekly petroleum price hikes, the passive tolerance of profiteering, the absence of a coherent relief strategy – these amount to a dereliction of duty. The powerful nations of the world, meanwhile, need to relearn an old lesson: war is not a sustainable solution to any problem. It breeds only ruin, hunger, price spikes and deeper uncertainty.
If the Gulf remains a powder keg, the consequences will manifest across dozens of developing countries – including Pakistan – as more poverty, more joblessness, more social upheaval. The parties to this conflict must, by some act of collective sanity, trim the nails of their pride. They must abandon the politics of ego and turn back toward peace. The people of Pakistan are already enduring an inflation‑driven calamity. If the global war atmosphere persists, that calamity will only intensify. The world must choose peace. And the government of Pakistan must choose immediate, effective economic relief for its citizens. Because if people are pushed relentlessly deeper into the mire, the response that comes back will not be patient sufferance – it will be the fury of the desperate.
(The writer is a public health professional, journalist, and possesses expertise in health communication, having keen interest in national and international affairs, can be reached at uzma@metro-morning.com)
