Pakistan's Impossible Choice Between Iran and Saudi Arabia

900 kilometers. That's the length of Pakistan's border with Iran—a frontier that has become a source of profound anxiety since February 28, when US-Israeli strikes killed Iran's Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei.

As Iranian missiles and drones rain down on Gulf states in retaliation, Pakistan finds itself caught in an impossible position. The culprit? A mutual defense agreement with Saudi Arabia signed just six months ago.

When Treaties Meet Reality

The Strategic Mutual Defense Agreement, inked in Riyadh on September 17, 2025, by Pakistani Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif and Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, seemed straightforward at the time. Its central clause was unambiguous: "Any aggression against either country shall be considered aggression against both."

Modeled on NATO's Article 5, the pact represented Pakistan's most significant formal defense commitment in decades. What neither side anticipated was being tested under these circumstances—with Iran, Pakistan's neighbor and trading partner, launching sustained attacks on Saudi Arabia and other Gulf states.

Umer Karim from Riyadh's King Faisal Center called it "the outcome of a miscalculation." Pakistani leaders, he argued, never expected to choose between Tehran and Riyadh, especially after China brokered their 2023 rapprochement.

The irony is stark. Pakistan has historically avoided such commitments. In 2015, it declined Saudi Arabia's direct request to join the Yemen coalition, with parliament resolving that the country "must remain neutral." This time, current army chief Asim Munir took the plunge—and now faces the consequences.

Shuttle Diplomacy Under Fire

When Khamenei was killed, Pakistan's response was swift and carefully calibrated. It condemned the US-Israeli strikes as "unwarranted" while simultaneously denouncing Iran's retaliatory strikes on Gulf states as "blatant violations of sovereignty."

Deputy Prime Minister Ishaq Dar, attending an Organization of Islamic Cooperation meeting in Riyadh when the conflict erupted, launched what he called "shuttle communication" between Tehran and Riyadh. He personally reminded Iranian Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi of Pakistan's defense obligations to Saudi Arabia.

"We have a defense pact with Saudi Arabia, and the whole world knows about it," Dar told parliament on March 3. Araghchi, he said, sought guarantees that Saudi soil wouldn't be used to attack Iran. Dar claimed he secured those assurances from Riyadh and credited the exchange with limiting Iranian strikes on the kingdom.

The diplomacy seemed to work—briefly. Iran's ambassador to Saudi Arabia even welcomed the kingdom's pledge not to allow its territory to be used against Iran. But reality intervened. On March 6, Saudi Arabia's defense ministry confirmed intercepting three ballistic missiles targeting Prince Sultan Air Base. Hours later, Pakistan's Field Marshal Asim Munir was in Riyadh, discussing "measures needed to halt" Iranian attacks "within the framework" of their mutual defense pact.

The Domestic Powder Keg

Pakistan's dilemma extends far beyond diplomatic calculations. The country's 15-20% Shia minority—roughly 40 million people—has erupted in protests following Khamenei's assassination.

In Gilgit-Baltistan, 23 people died in demonstrations, prompting a three-day curfew and army deployment. In Karachi, 10 people were killed during pro-Iran protests at the US consulate. The violence reflects deep sectarian divisions that have plagued Pakistan for decades.

More concerning is the Zainabiyoun Brigade, a Pakistan-origin Shia militia trained and funded by Iran's Revolutionary Guard Corps. Though officially banned by Pakistan in 2024, the group's networks remain intact. Thousands of its fighters, hardened in Syria's civil war, could potentially shift from defensive to offensive operations on Pakistani soil.

Amir Rana from Islamabad's Pak Institute of Peace Studies warns of the spillover effects: "Iran has significant influence over Shia organizations in Pakistan. And then you have Balochistan, which is already highly volatile. If there's confrontation, the fallout would be severe."

The Credibility Test

Aziz Alghashian from the Gulf International Forum pointed to Pakistan's 2015 Yemen decision as precedent: "The limitation of the Saudi-Pakistan treaty is clear. Treaties are only as strong as the political calculations and political will behind them."

But Ilhan Niaz from Quaid-e-Azam University disagrees. If Saudi Arabia formally requests Pakistani military assistance, "Pakistan will come to Saudi Arabia's aid," he argues. "To do otherwise would undermine Pakistan's credibility."

The stakes extend beyond bilateral relations. Pakistan has 1,500-2,000 troops already stationed in Saudi Arabia and millions of workers across the Gulf. The economic implications of choosing sides are staggering.

Yet Pakistan also has "vital national interests" in Iran's stability, as Niaz notes. "The collapse of Iran into civil war, its fragmentation into warring states, and the extension of Israeli influence to Pakistan's western borders are all developments that greatly worry Islamabad."

Walking the Tightrope

As Iranian attacks on Gulf states continue, Pakistan's balancing act grows more precarious. Field Marshal Munir's presence in Riyadh signals the military's recognition that the defense pact cannot be ignored indefinitely. Yet any military action against Iran would inflame domestic tensions and potentially destabilize Pakistan's volatile western provinces.

The China-brokered Saudi-Iran rapprochement that once seemed to offer Pakistan strategic breathing room now appears fragile. As missiles fly and diplomatic channels strain, Islamabad faces a choice that could reshape its regional relationships for decades.