During his recent visit to Libya, Pakistan’s Field Marshal addressed a high-level gathering that included senior Libyan leaders and top military officials. What he presented was not a routine diplomatic message but a strategic doctrine shaped by Pakistan’s own experience of war, sanctions, and external pressure. He reminded the audience that Pakistan learned long ago that dependence on foreign military technology becomes dangerous when a nation faces an existential threat. In moments of conflict, supplier states often convert technology into leverage—delaying or freezing spare parts, blocking software updates, halting ammunition supplies, or suspending technical support. When national survival hangs in the balance, such dependency can prove fatal.
That is why Pakistan deliberately chose to minimize reliance on imported technology and began developing its own air defence systems, land warfare platforms, naval capabilities, cyber and electronic warfare tools, and—above all—independent and secure communication systems. This was a long and difficult journey, born not of luxury but of necessity.
The Field Marshal explained that this strategy was decisively tested during the twelve-day confrontation with India, when Pakistan’s integrated cyber, communications, missile defence, and air combat systems were exposed to real battlefield stress. According to him, Pakistan did not lose a single aircraft, while neutralizing India’s most advanced platforms, including Rafale, MiG-29, and Tejas fighters. Indian command-and-control networks were disrupted through cyber operations, and even India’s S-400 missile defence system failed to deliver the deterrence New Delhi had anticipated. These developments, he said, demonstrated that Pakistan had achieved technological parity—and even superiority in certain domains—despite facing a much larger and wealthier adversary.
What transformed his address into a historic moment, however, was not the recounting of battlefield resilience but the offer that followed. The Field Marshal declared that Pakistan is now prepared to share its indigenous defence technologies with Muslim countries seeking strategic autonomy, self-respect, and credible deterrence. These technologies, already tested in combat, would not be used as political leverage but as a means to strengthen the collective defence of the Muslim world. In his most emphatic words, he advised Muslim leaders: “Ensure your armed forces are strong enough to protect your sovereignty, your dignity, and your independence. Without that strength, no country can ever truly claim to be independent.”
This message resonates far beyond South Asia. In the Middle East, nearly every state hosts U.S. military bases, finances their operations, and relies heavily on Western defence umbrellas. Yet recent conflicts—such as the Israel-Hamas war and the Israel-Iran escalation—have revealed an uncomfortable reality. These installations, systems, and manpower were not mobilized to defend host nations; instead, they were primarily activated to shield Israel. Wealthy Gulf states thus face a paradox: they fund foreign troops on their soil, yet remain strategically exposed when their national interests diverge from those of Washington.
In this context, Pakistan’s offer becomes transformative. Saudi Arabia’s expanding defence partnership with Pakistan reflects a growing strategic awakening. A combination of Pakistani technology, combat experience, and human capital—supported by Middle Eastern financial strength—could reshape the regional security order. If replicated across other Muslim states, this framework could reduce or eliminate the perceived need to host foreign military bases as guarantors of sovereignty. Equally important, jointly developed or indigenous systems would remove external leverage during crises: no blocked spare parts, no sudden software restrictions, and no political strings attached at the moment of war.
It is inevitable that such a shift would alarm existing power centres. Israel would view any dilution of its technological edge as a direct challenge, while the United States—Israel’s principal guarantor—would likely apply diplomatic and economic pressure to discourage Muslim states from pursuing autonomous defence solutions. Narratives may emerge questioning Pakistan’s capabilities or dismissing its industrial scale as inadequate. Yet, as the Field Marshal implied, credibility is proven on the battlefield—not in marketing brochures. Pakistan’s systems have already faced real-world combat and performed under fire.
The argument also rests on a deeper reality: technology evolves fastest where capital and experience converge. With Gulf investment, Pakistan’s defence industries could rapidly innovate, expand, and tailor systems to regional threat environments. For Pakistan, the benefits would be equally significant. Defence exports would generate much-needed foreign exchange, strengthen geopolitical influence, and position the country as a provider—rather than merely a consumer—of security within the Muslim world.
The Field Marshal acknowledged that breaking existing dependencies will not be easy. Many Muslim states are deeply embedded in Western defence ecosystems, bound by treaties, procurement pipelines, and political expectations. Escaping that orbit will require courage, foresight, and coordination. Yet strategic independence always begins with a decisive first step, and Pakistan’s offer represents such a moment.
From a broader perspective, this proposal could finally enable Muslim nations to stand on their own feet in matters of defence. It could foster an ecosystem in which capability replaces dependency, dignity replaces insecurity, and sovereignty becomes more than a symbolic concept. Pakistan is not promising miracles; rather, it is offering tested technology, operational knowledge, and a philosophy of self-reliance—shaped by lived experience against a larger, wealthier, and better-equipped adversary, survived without external rescue.
Undoubtedly, powerful forces will resist this shift. Israel and its allies may exert pressure, some Muslim leaders may hesitate, and attempts at diplomatic intimidation or disruption are likely. Yet the Field Marshal’s message cuts through the doubt: true independence is impossible without strong, sovereign, and self-reliant armed forces.
Pakistan’s outreach is therefore more than a defence export initiative. It is a strategic doctrine—one that seeks to align technology, sovereignty, and dignity across the Muslim world. If embraced, it could mark the beginning of a new era in which Muslim nations no longer rely on others to guarantee their security, nor fear political manipulation in moments of crisis. The road ahead is difficult, but history has always favored those who choose self-reliance over dependency, courage over caution, and dignity over fear. For the Muslim world, this may be the first genuine opportunity in generations to defend itself on its own terms—and to respond to aggression with confidence and capability rather than hesitation and dependence.
