S.M.Hali
For decades, the Middle East’s security architecture was defined by external patrons—chiefly the United States—backstopping Gulf monarchies against regional threats. The recent Makkah Joint Defence Agreement between Turkey, Saudi Arabia, and Pakistan marks a striking departure: three Muslim-majority states pledging collective defence, signed in Islam’s holiest city. While the symbolism is profound, the strategic consequences are even more so. For Pakistan, the pact offers opportunities and pitfalls; for Iran, it raises anxieties that must be handled with care.
The pact’s core principle—that an attack on one will be treated as an attack on all three—echoes NATO’s Article 5. It signals the emergence of a Muslim-world security bloc combining Pakistan’s nuclear deterrent, Turkey’s advanced defence industry, and Saudi Arabia’s financial clout. For Riyadh, repeatedly targeted by Houthi drones and Iranian missiles, the agreement offers reassurance beyond Washington’s sometimes hesitant umbrella. For Ankara, it expands influence in the Gulf while showcasing its defence exports. For Islamabad, it promises prestige, investment, and a renewed role as guarantor of Muslim security.
Pakistan stands to gain considerable advantages. As the only nuclear-armed Muslim state, its inclusion elevates its stature as a central security actor in the Islamic world. Saudi financing and Turkish technology could spur Pakistan’s defence industry, creating jobs and boosting exports. Islamabad’s role as a bridge between Riyadh and Ankara enhances its bargaining power in wider Muslim-world diplomacy. Moreover, deploying troops, drones, and air-defence systems in Saudi Arabia provides Pakistan’s military with valuable exposure to Gulf theatres, strengthening its operational experience.
Yet the pact carries risks that cannot be ignored. Tehran may view Pakistan’s overt military commitment to Riyadh as hostile, potentially inflaming sectarian tensions along Pakistan’s western border. Iran could cultivate Shia groups to exert pressure, complicating Islamabad’s internal security. Intensified Houthi or Iraqi militia attacks could drag Pakistani forces into prolonged asymmetric conflict far from home. Domestically, public opinion remains wary of entanglement in Middle Eastern wars, with critics arguing that Islamabad is prioritizing Gulf security over its own economic and social challenges. Strategically, Pakistan risks overstretch, balancing commitments to China, the United States, and now a trilateral Muslim bloc, which could strain its diplomatic bandwidth.
For Iran, the pact is unsettling. Tehran already feels encircled by U.S. bases and Israeli outreach to Arab states. A trilateral bloc with nuclear backing and Gulf wealth intensifies this anxiety. Iran’s likely responses include strengthening proxies such as the Houthis, Iraqi militias, or Hezbollah to test the pact’s deterrence. It may reinforce its ability to disrupt energy flows through the Strait of Hormuz, countering the pact’s promise of secure shipping lanes. Diplomatically, Tehran could seek to fracture Gulf unity by courting Qatar or Oman, while deepening ties with Russia and China. Narratively, Iran may present the pact as a “Sunni bloc” aimed at marginalizing Shia influence, appealing to sympathetic audiences in Iraq and Lebanon.
The regional fallout of the pact risks sharpening bloc politics in the Middle East. While framed as defensive, it could accelerate polarization. The Beijing-brokered thaw of 2023 between Saudi Arabia and Iran may falter as Riyadh hardens its posture. Ankara’s alignment with Riyadh complicates its delicate balancing act with Tehran, potentially straining cooperation in trade and counter-Kurdish operations. The pact strengthens collective resolve to safeguard oil and LNG routes, reassuring global markets but raising the stakes of any confrontation in Hormuz. By signing in Makkah, the pact projects civilizational legitimacy, signalling to Washington, Tehran, and Tel Aviv that Muslim states can organize collective security independent of external patrons.
For Pakistan, the challenge lies in maximizing benefits while mitigating fallout. Islamabad must reassure Tehran through diplomatic channels, emphasizing that its role is defensive rather than aimed at encirclement. Confidence-building measures along the Iran–Pakistan border could ease tensions. Pakistan must avoid being drawn into Sunni–Shia polarization, preserving its credibility as a bridge in the Muslim world. It should channel Saudi investment and Turkish technology into domestic development, ensuring the pact delivers tangible benefits at home. Above all, Islamabad must preserve strategic autonomy, balancing its commitments to the pact with ties to China, the United States, and Iran, avoiding overdependence on any single axis.
The Makkah Pact is a milestone in Muslim-world security cooperation. For Pakistan, it offers prestige, investment, and influence, but also risks entanglement and backlash. For Iran, it raises anxieties of encirclement and marginalization, likely prompting proxy escalation and diplomatic counter-moves. The broader fallout may be a sharper polarization of the Middle East, with bloc politics reminiscent of the Cold War. If Pakistan can navigate these complexities—reassuring Iran, leveraging economic gains, and preserving autonomy—it may emerge stronger. But if mismanaged, the pact could embroil Islamabad in conflicts that strain its resources and destabilize its neighbourhood. The promise of collective defence must be matched by prudence, diplomacy, and a recognition that true security lies not only in deterrence but in dialogue.
The writer is a retired Group Captain of PAF. He is a columnist, analyst and TV talk show host, who has authored 16 books on current affairs, including ten on China
