After decades of open hearted generosity toward Afghan refugees, Pakistan now finds itself struggling under the weight of its own compassion. What began as an act of humanity sheltering millions fleeing war, hunger, and chaos has evolved into a complex crisis draining the country’s economy, testing its security, and challenging its patience.
Across Pakistan, from Faisalabad’s textile factories to Quetta’s crowded bazaars, frustration is growing. Ordinary citizens question how much longer the country can shoulder this burden. With unemployment rising, inflation surging, and smuggling thriving, Pakistan’s kindness has begun to feel like a punishment.
The Afghan Transit Trade Agreement (ATTA), once seen as a symbol of regional cooperation, became a loophole for exploitation. Instead of reaching Kabul, truckloads of goods electronics, tyres, and textiles flooded back into Pakistan tax-free. Local businesses suffered, and industries collapsed under the pressure of cheap, untaxed imports. What was designed to help Afghanistan rebuild ended up hollowing out Pakistan’s economy.
The government’s decision to tighten borders in 2025 revealed the staggering extent of illegal trade. Legal imports rose by 78% in a single month, uncovering a black-market network that had cost Pakistan billions. Yet, the consequences go beyond economics. Intelligence agencies warn that smuggling profits are funding extremist groups, with connections to hostile foreign agencies and militant outfits such as Fitna al-Khawarij and Fitna al-Hindustan.
Once symbols of compassion, some refugee settlements have turned into hubs for criminal and terror networks. Law enforcement agencies have linked weapons, drugs, and terror financing to operatives working under Afghan identity. The growing insecurity, coupled with financial losses, has made the continuation of open door policies unsustainable.
Now, Pakistan’s repatriation plan though criticized by international observers is largely supported at home. For most Pakistanis, it’s not a question of cruelty but survival. Business owners see it as an economic necessity; citizens view it as a long-overdue step toward reclaiming national stability and dignity.
Officials in Islamabad are also asking hard questions: if Afghanistan now enjoys partnerships with countries like India and speaks of self-reliance, why can’t it take responsibility for its citizens? Pakistan offered shelter, employment, and safety for decades, yet finds itself repaid with smuggling, terrorism, and border tensions.
The sentiment is clear and growing stronger: Pakistan’s compassion has limits. “If Kabul has found comfort in Delhi,” one analyst remarked, “it should also find a home for its people there.”
For Pakistan, this is no longer just about kindness it’s about self preservation. The government insists the repatriation drive is not an act of hostility but of necessity. No nation can compromise its security or economy in the name of unending hospitality.
After forty years of generosity, Pakistan’s message to Kabul is firm and final: compassion cannot come at the cost of sovereignty. The time has come for Afghanistan to stand on its own and for Pakistan to protect the house that once sheltered others.
