South Asian geopolitics: While most nations have armies, in Pakistan, the army has a nation. This statement, though frequently repeated, encapsulates a stark and profound truth about the role of the military in shaping Pakistan’s national identity, governance, foreign policy, and even its economy.
Now, however, a new narrative is emerging. One that pits the once-unquestioned dominance of the Pakistan Army against a rising and emboldened Pakistan Air Force (PAF), a shift catalyzed by a recent and unprecedented air conflict with India.
Since the creation of Pakistan in 1947, the army has played an outsized role in the country’s trajectory. It has governed the country directly for over 33 of its 78 years, with General Ayub Khan, General Yahya Khan, General Zia-ul-Haq, and General Pervez Musharraf all taking the reins of power and serving as Presidents. Even in times of civilian governance, it is the military that has wielded real power, particularly in matters of national security and foreign policy.
Pakistan’s foreign policy towards India, Afghanistan, and the United States has long been under the purview of the Army, particularly its powerful intelligence wing, the Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI). The Army’s control is institutional, not just traditional: since the formation of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Committee (JCSC) in 1972, it has almost exclusively been led by Army generals. The only exceptions are rare and have not altered the structural power dynamic.
The elevation of Field Marshal Ayub Khan and, more recently, Field Marshal Asim Munir, to five-star rank has only reinforced the Army’s symbolic dominance. Beyond symbolism, the Army has crafted a vast web of economic power through what analysts call “Milbus” or military business. Through entities like the Fauji Foundation, Army Welfare Trust (AWT), and Defense Housing Authority (DHA), the military controls businesses spanning real estate, banking, food production, construction, and logistics.
In her groundbreaking book, “Military Inc: Inside Pakistan’s Military Economy,” Pakistani scholar Ayesha Siddiqa estimated in 2007 that the military’s economic footprint was worth over USD 20 billion. That figure has only grown, with current estimates placing it above USD 50 billion, a staggering one-eighth of Pakistan’s $400 billion economy.
The Army is not merely a military institution in Pakistan; it is a cultural and social monolith. Army generals are national celebrities. Military parades and public holidays reinforce martial values. Civilians are often deferential to military authority, and dissent is frequently suppressed under the guise of national security.
Yet, this towering structure began to show its first real fissure not from civilian quarters or democratic pressures, but from within the military establishment itself.
The trigger was a short but significant four-day war with India in early May 2025. Named Operation Sindoor by the Indian side, it saw both nations engage in high-intensity combat operations, with a focus heavily tilted toward air power. Unlike past conflicts—the wars of 1948, 1965, 1971, and even the 1999 Kargil confrontation—this skirmish was largely fought in the skies.
While the Pakistan Army engaged on the ground and operated anti-air systems, it was the Pakistan Air Force that dominated the headlines and public imagination. Pakistan claimed to have downed six Indian aircraft, including three advanced Rafales, during the opening night of May 6.
India has neither confirmed nor denied the losses, and no concrete evidence has been provided by Islamabad. Yet, the narrative of a 6-0 air duel victory for Pakistan took hold in the public consciousness. It was a powerful moment for a country still nursing wounds from the 1971 loss of East Pakistan (now Bangladesh) and the defeat at Kargil.
Air Vice Marshal Aurangzeb Ahmed, in a rare joint press conference with Army spokesperson Lieutenant General Ahmed Sharif, stated: “Our Air Force has achieved a 6-0 victory against India.” The optics were telling—the Air Force, for once, shared equal, if not greater, billing with the traditionally dominant Army.
According to veteran journalist Rahul Bedi, writing for The Wire, the aftermath of Operation Sindoor may have tilted the internal balance of power within Pakistan’s military establishment. For the first time, the PAF was seen as more technologically adept and strategically forward-looking than its more numerous Army counterpart.
PAF operations integrated real-time electronic and signals intelligence (ELINT/SIGINT), airborne warning systems, and satellite data, including Chinese BeiDou and Gaofen imagery. The use of networked warfare capabilities gave them a significant edge, at least in perception.
Meanwhile, the Army’s ground-based air defense units reportedly suffered from slow response times and were vulnerable to Indian drone attacks. This operational shortfall became an embarrassment for the Army, highlighting a growing gap between branches that had long been assumed to operate in harmony.
In an apparent bid to reassert dominance, General Asim Munir was promoted to the rank of Field Marshal shortly after the conflict. This move, unprecedented in peacetime and symbolic in nature, was widely seen as a message to the Air Force and the public: the Army is still in charge.
However, this was counterbalanced by Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif’s decision to extend the tenure of Air Chief Marshal Zaheer Ahmed Baber Sidhu, a rare honor last granted to ACM Anwar Shamim in 1981. This dual move was both a nod to the PAF’s rising stature and a delicate balancing act aimed at maintaining cohesion within the military establishment.
In line with this shift, reports have emerged that Pakistan is set to acquire up to 40 J-35 fifth-generation stealth fighters from China by 2026. This would mark a significant modernization of the PAF’s capabilities and further entrench its role in national defense strategy.
In a country where defense procurement and strategy have long been Army-led domains, this pivot toward air power is notable. It signals not just operational changes but also a potential redistribution of influence and resources within Pakistan’s military-industrial complex.
The developments also raise questions about the long-standing civil-military imbalance in Pakistan. While civilian governments have often been beholden to the military, a more diversified military leadership could paradoxically open space for civilian oversight. A more empowered Air Force, traditionally less involved in domestic political maneuvering than the Army, could serve as a moderating force.
Still, analysts caution against overestimating the shift. The Army remains deeply entrenched in Pakistan’s political, economic, and social fabric. Its influence extends far beyond the barracks and the battlefield. Yet, the precedent set by the recent air conflict is hard to ignore.
In a country where the Army has long been synonymous with the state, the Pakistan Air Force’s sudden rise poses both an opportunity and a challenge. It introduces a potential check within the military itself, a dynamic rarely seen in Pakistan’s history.
If air power continues to dominate future conflicts with India, and if the PAF continues to demonstrate superior operational capabilities, it may well redefine the internal power structure of the armed forces.
The emergence of the Air Force as a legitimate peer to the Army changes the calculus in Rawalpindi and Islamabad. It may reshape how defense budgets are allocated, how strategic decisions are made, and even how civil-military relations evolve in the years ahead.
Operation Sindoor has, at the very least, challenged the Pakistan Army’s unassailable dominance. While the long-term implications are yet to play out, the immediate aftermath suggests a military establishment that is becoming more multipolar in character.
Pakistan may be inching toward a model where military power is shared, if not equally, then more equitably among its branches. The implications for governance, civil rights, regional stability, and strategic alignment are profound.
