How Pakistan emerged as an unlikely broker of peace in the Gulf

PRAISE FROM the belligerents was lavish. Early on April 8th Donald Trump said he had agreed to a two-week ceasefire with Iran following talks with Shehbaz Sharif, Pakistan’s prime minister, and Asim Munir, the country’s military strongman (pictured in the posters above). Later that day, the truce already appeared in doubt as the two sides disagreed over whether it covered Israel’s fighting in Lebanon.

But they did agree that Field-Marshal Munir, in the words of one diplomat in Islamabad, had played a “humdinger”. Abbas Araghchi, Iran’s foreign minister, said the truce had come about thanks to the “tireless efforts of Sharif and Munir”. After five weeks of fighting that have shaken the global economy, and having come within hours of Mr Trump’s deadline for consigning Iran “back to the stone ages”, delegations from the two countries agreed to meet face-to-face on April 11th in Islamabad, Pakistan’s capital.

It was a remarkable feat for a country that, even by its own troubled standards, has endured a turbulent few years. In 2022 flooding and rising fuel prices brought Pakistan close to financial collapse. It only narrowly avoided a default, after securing loans from the IMF (for a world-record 25th time), China and the Gulf. Only last May it fought a four-day air war with India. And this year it has been fighting the Taliban in Afghanistan, blaming it for terrorist attacks including a bombing in Islamabad in November. Yet Pakistan has emerged on the world stage as a peacemaker.

That is partly thanks to a process of elimination. Iran deemed other options, like Turkey or Egypt, too close to Washington. Pakistan became Mr Trump’s favoured choice—a natural one, in some ways, as it not only shares a 900km-long border with Iran but has represented the country’s interests in Washington for almost 50 years (Iran has had no embassy in America).

That trust has been recently cultivated. Only two years ago, Iran and Pakistan themselves exchanged missile strikes, each attacking militant insurgent groups sheltering across the border. But after that conflict Field-Marshal Munir opened communication with Iran’s Revolutionary Guards. And Mr Sharif received Ebrahim Raisi, then Iran’s president, in Islamabad. After America and Israel bombed Iran in June 2025, Pakistan was outspoken in its support of its fellow Muslim country. Maleeha Lodhi, a former ambassador to America, says that was critical to rebuilding trust.

The field-marshal has also transformed Pakistan’s ties with America. Back in 2018 Mr Trump complained that America had given Pakistan billions of dollars of aid in return for “nothing but lies & deceit, thinking of our leaders as fools”. Yet he has a weakness for men in uniform, and has been won over by his “favourite field-marshal”. Last year, after crediting Mr Trump with negotiating a ceasefire between it and India (much to India’s annoyance), Pakistan nominated Mr Trump for the Nobel peace prize. It has also deepened ties with Mr Trump’s inner circle by positioning Pakistan as a hub for cryptocurrency and critical minerals.

In recent weeks Field-Marshal Munir has been much on the phone to Mr Trump and his deputy, J.D. Vance—with calls running “through the night”, says the Pakistani army. Contact with Iran has been co-ordinated by Pakistan’s intelligence service. The main role has been to pass messages, but, say diplomats in Islamabad, also to help the two sides understand each other, notably by explaining Iran’s thinking to a White House that grasps it poorly. Meanwhile Pakistan’s foreign minister, Ishaq Dar, has pursued shuttle diplomacy, receiving visits from the foreign ministers of Saudi Arabia, Turkey and Egypt and going to China. But efforts have been led by Field-Marshal Munir.

Besides the country’s aspiration to play a bigger role on the world stage, Pakistan has a keen self-interest in ending the war. It is one of the countries most exposed to higher energy prices, and a long conflict would endanger its economic recovery. But its mediation efforts come at a cost. Angered by Pakistan’s engagement with a regime that was raining missiles on it, the UAE decided on April 4th not to roll over a $3.5bn loan, leaving the finance ministry scrambling for other sources of funds.

Pakistan has been keen to prevent the war from escalating and drawing in Saudi Arabia, with which it signed a defence pact last year. Field-Marshal Munir has urged the Saudis to show restraint, and on April 7th criticised Iran for targeting them with missiles. Ms Lodhi says that if the war had lasted much longer, such tensions might have become impossible for Pakistan to manage. Indeed, says Khurram Husain, an analyst based in Karachi, there have long been worries that maintaining relationships with America, China, Saudi Arabia and Iran would see Pakistan pulled in different directions. But for now, Pakistan seems to have made itself a bridge.

In recent days, it has pushed America and Iran to agree to a two-phase process, involving a ceasefire followed by face-to-face talks. If the first talks do go ahead, the Iranian delegation in Islamabad will be led by Mohammad-Bagher Ghalibaf, the speaker of Iran’s parliament. The Americans will be led by Mr Vance. Despite the gulf between the sides, diplomats in Pakistan detect some momentum, with both sides bruised by six weeks of war. “Our sense is that there is a willingness to come to terms,” says Jalil Abbas Jilani, a former Pakistani foreign minister. The rest of the world can only hope. ■