Over 35 years in public service, including the senior-most roles within Pakistan’s top law enforcement institutions, I have closely studied the evolving nature of terrorism in our region. The challenges we confront today, spanning security, politics, and society, are not recent phenomena. They are the culmination of long-standing historical currents, unresolved traumas, and deeply rooted socio-political transitions dating back to the mid-19th century.
This op-ed series, comprising of 7 parts, blends historical context with personal reflections and aims to trace how political resistance, ideological struggle, and imperial suppression evolved into what we now call terrorism. Understanding the origins of this phenomenon is not only essential for those of us who are tasked with securing Pakistan’s future, but also the need of the hour for our younger generation to grasp, since they have the maximum stake in a prosperous, peaceful Pakistan.
Contrary to public perception, Terrorism lacks a universally accepted definition. The United Nations has struggled to reach consensus because political violence is seen through contrasting lenses: a terrorist to one may be a freedom fighter to another. That said, the UN General Assembly defines terrorism as “Criminal acts intended to cause death or serious injury to civilians, or the taking of hostages, with the purpose of provoking terror, intimidating populations, or compelling governments.” It is a functional but contested definition.
The word “Terrorisme” originated during the French Revolution’s Reign of Terror (1793–94), where violence was used by the government to crush dissent. Ironically, the colonised world, would later witness this very tactic employed by European powers and the Indian sub-continent faced the brunt of it.
The story begins in 1857, when the Indian subcontinent experienced its first large-scale uprising against British rule. What started in Meerut over rumored animal fat in rifle cartridges snowballed into a vast and brutal rebellion. Though the British called it a "Sepoy Mutiny," Indian nationalists revered it as the "First War of Independence." It exposed a fragile fault line: that resistance and repression were now on a collision course, increasingly colored by religion. It is to be remembered that after the Battle of Plassey in 1757, this was the first serious challenge to the British raj which was so cataclysmic that the Crown took over the reigns of India from the East India company. Religious divisions, Islam, Hinduism, and Christianity, began to intersect with politics in dangerous ways. Although Muslims had ruled India for nearly a millennium, the British conquest realigned power structures. The 1857 revolt, despite being brutally crushed, lit the torch of resistance that would smolder and flare over the next 90 years.
One cannot examine this era without acknowledging the Wahhabi Movement led by Sayyid Ahmad Barelvi. Inspired by the puritanical teachings of Muhammad ibn Abd al-Wahhab in Arabia, Barelvi envisioned a pan-Islamic uprising. His battles in present-day Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, particularly in Balakot, where he was martyred in 1831, seeded the idea of an organised Islamic resistance. The term “Mujahideen” was first adopted during this period to signify the more than 100000 Muslims of present Khyber Pakhtunkhawa who fought under his command, well before its modern reincarnation. The Wahhabi ethos and its legacy continue to influence regional militancy today, albeit in transformed ideological packages.
The period between the failed uprising and independence saw numerous armed struggles, like “The Birsa Munda uprising” (1899-1900) in Jharkand, “the Rampa rebellion” (1922-24) in Andhra Pradesh and similar other guerilla campaigns across India which were dismissed as terrorism by colonial authorities. Yet these efforts are commemorated in subcontinental history as symbols of valor and liberation.
The Mopla Rebellion in Kerala (1921–22) is a stark example. Initially, a peasant uprising against exploitative landlords and colonial policies, it evolved into a religiously charged revolt. British retaliation was swift and severe: over 10,000 Moplas were killed, and the "Wagon Tragedy," where 61 prisoners suffocated in a locked railway car, became a symbol of imperial cruelty. The British labeled them extremists; local memory preserved them as martyrs.
Then came Bhagat Singh, a symbol of youthful defiance. At just 23, Singh had already become a towering figure of resistance. Provoked by events such as the Jallianwala Bagh massacre and the brutal assault on Lala Lajpat Rai which led to his death, Singh turned to revolutionary violence. Though his bombings were symbolic rather than lethal, the British hanged him in 1931. Singh’s story is vital to understanding how resistance can blur into acts now labeled as terrorism, depending on perspective.
These movements reveal a crucial pattern: when political and peaceful channels were denied, violence became a language of desperation. Religion, ideology, and national identity became catalysts, and the responses from colonial powers hardened these divides further.
When Pakistan emerged in 1947, it did so with a blood-soaked inheritance. Partition brought mass displacement, communal violence, and immediate conflict with India. Pakistani leaders were forced to build a nation while simultaneously defending it. From the outset, Pakistan was painted by Indian leaders as a “moth-eaten” state, an unnatural creation doomed to fail. These narratives fueled hostilities that persist to this day.
The seeds of ideological extremism were present from the beginning, not of our choosing, but inherited through historical events and regional geopolitics. External interventions, internal power struggles, and unresolved identity questions made Pakistan a fertile ground for radicalisation. The transformation of religious resistance into sectarian violence and political marginalisation into insurgency must be traced with historical precision to avoid superficial judgments.
This column is not a nostalgic recollection of the past. It is a framework to understand our present. From the Wahhabi insurrections to the War of Independence to the Khilafat Movement and anti-British guerrilla campaigns, the use of faith, ideology, and violence to contest state power is not new. What changed post-1947 is the fragmentation of that contest. No longer aimed at colonialism, violence turned inward, weaponised by non-state actors, foreign interests, and poor governance.
In subsequent parts of this series, I will examine how the ideological and militant landscape evolved in Pakistan, from the Afghan jihad to sectarian terrorism, from regional insurgencies to the post-9/11 paradigm. The goal is to understand the evolution of Terrorism in Pakistan, contextualise it, and identify the factors responsible for its metamorphosis so we can devise smarter strategies for peace and resilience.
Pakistan’s story is not one of failure; it is one of endurance. But to chart a better future, we must confront the past with clarity. Only by examining the origins of our security dilemmas can we arrive at a practical solution.