by S. Haider Mehdi (News & Analysis, Crescent International Vol. 55, No. 5, Muharram, 1447)
As the world watched with bated breath the most combustible escalation yet between Israel and Iran, one country’s role stood out—not because of its strategic brilliance or moral clarity, but for its bizarre, humiliating, and potentially catastrophic missteps. That country is Pakistan. And at the center of it all was one man: General Asim Munir, the self-appointed strongman who has seized effective control of Pakistan’s state apparatus under the guise of a civilian democratic framework, essentially a farce.
Two events in particular will likely become enduring symbols of Pakistan’s public posture in this crisis, both unprecedented in their audacity and baffling in their execution.
The lunch that shook Islamabad and Washington
On June 16, 2025, in the midst of a rapidly escalating geopolitical crisis, Pakistan Army Chief, General Asim Munir, was hosted for a private lunch by US President Donald Trump at the White House. The optics were staggering: a military dictator dining with an American president, in complete disregard for standard diplomatic protocol, while the world stood on the edge of a regional inferno.
No Pakistani civilian leader was present. No joint statement was issued. The visit was cloaked in ambiguity.
The question immediately arose: Why was Pakistan’s military chief in Washington during a global flashpoint involving Iran and Israel? The White House initially issued no formal invitation. Some Pakistani state channels claimed Munir had been invited to attend a military parade marking the 250th anniversary of the US Army’s establishment—a claim the Trump regime later flatly denied.
Yet the visit proceeded.
And then came the most humiliating act in Pakistan’s recent diplomatic history.
The Nobel grovel: A national embarrassment
Barely 24 hours after Munir’s lunch with Trump, the Government of Pakistan issued a stunning public statement: it had formally nominated Donald Trump for the Nobel Peace Prize. This unprecedented act of sycophancy was not only diplomatically unfounded—it triggered international ridicule and domestic fury. No country in modern history had so obsequiously debased itself for a foreign leader whose global reputation is mired in controversy.
Why would a nuclear-armed Muslim country, home to 240 million people, humiliate itself in such spectacular fashion? Why would it prop up a man who was—at that very moment—secretly orchestrating a military escalation against Iran, a Muslim country and Pakistan’s immediate neighbor?
The answer, it now appears, lies in the cold logic of strategic deception.
Trump’s Deception Doctrine and Pakistan’s role
According to credible sources with direct access to high-level deliberations in both Washington and Islamabad, the lunch was no mere courtesy call. Trump had already made the decision—alongside Israel—to strike Iran. But he needed to test the regional waters. And above all, he needed to ensure that Pakistan, with its 170 nuclear warheads and historic links with both Iran and China, would remain neutral—or better yet, pliantly cooperative.
The objective was twofold:
This made a personal meeting with Asim Munir essential. As head of Pakistan’s de facto power center—the military—Munir could offer what no civilian Pakistani prime minister could: binding assurances, discreet coordination, and suppression of dissent within Pakistan’s borders.
Thus, the Nobel Peace Prize nomination was not an act of goodwill. It was part of a three-pronged deception campaign carefully choreographed by Trump to lull Iran into strategic miscalculation.
The deception had three major components:
Together, these acts created an alternate reality—one where the US was aloof, Israel was restrained, and Pakistan was at peace with the process.
All of it was false.
Was Asim Munir Deceived—Or Deceptive?
The central question remains: Was Asim Munir duped by Trump, or was he an active, willing participant in the theatrics of deception?
The answer depends on how one views Munir’s reputation. Among his own peers, he is nicknamed “The Deceiver”—a man widely regarded as cunning, ambitious, and unconstrained by ethics or law. His rise to power involved orchestrating the forced removal of elected prime ministers, overseeing mass political crackdowns, and presiding over the most repressive media censorship in Pakistan’s history.
Given this profile, it seems unlikely that Munir was blindsided.
More plausible is that he calculated Pakistan’s cooperation—or at least silence—in exchange for international legitimacy, continued IMF support, and American political favor. In doing so, he bartered away Pakistan’s moral standing, betrayed a neighboring country in its darkest hour, and invited long-term strategic isolation in the Islamic world.
Consequences of Munir’s treachery
For Iran, this betrayal is likely to have long-term consequences. Trust in Pakistan—always fragile due to sectarian, geopolitical, and economic divergences—may now be irrevocably broken. Tehran will likely pivot even further into the China-Russia axis, accelerating the strategic decoupling of West Asia from traditional US regional clients.
For Pakistan, the damage is far worse.
Not Pakistan’s Shame—But Asim Munir’s
It is critical, however, to separate the state of Pakistan from the criminality of its unelected military ruler.
The Pakistani people were neither consulted nor informed. Their parliament had no role. Their judiciary is gagged. Their press muzzled. This was not a decision arrived through consensus—it was the decision of one man, ruling in violation of Pakistan’s Constitution, and backed by an authoritarian military-intelligence complex.
What unfolded was not Pakistan’s betrayal of Iran, but Asim Munir’s betrayal of both Pakistan and Iran—a betrayal rooted in megalomania, foreign dependency, and illegitimate power.
The larger lesson: When democracy dies, decency dies with it
In the final analysis, this episode is a case study in the catastrophic dangers of military authoritarianism.
A single unelected man—accountable to no one—was able to drag an entire nuclear state into the orbit of a foreign war, abandon a neighboring Muslim country under attack, and debase his own country before the world for nothing more than personal survival and geopolitical flattery.
Had Pakistan been a functioning democracy, with an elected government, free media, and an empowered Parliament, such treachery would have been impossible.
The lesson is clear—and urgent: Until Pakistan dismantles the stranglehold of its military over civilian governance, it will remain a pliable pawn on the global chessboard, capable of neither morality nor strategy.
In the great tragedy of the Israel-Iran conflict, Pakistan’s role may not be that of a combatant, but it is no less ignominious. History will remember not just the missiles launched, but also the masks worn—and torn.
And in that reckoning, General Asim Munir will stand alone: the man who dined with deception and served his nation on a platter of shame.