Saudi–Pakistan Defence Wall Against Tyranny

By Qamar Bashir

The Doha summit forced the Muslim world to confront its greatest weakness. What was meant to be another ritual of solidarity for Gaza instead exposed the Ummah’s impotence in the face of systematic slaughter. The massacre of Palestinians, the destruction of homes, schools, and hospitals, and the displacement of millions have become recurring tragedies. From Bosnia to Burma, from Kashmir to Gaza, the blood of Muslims has been shed while their states, though wealthy and numerous, stood helpless. Doha stripped away excuses: the Muslim world possesses extraordinary resources, yet it has failed to transform them into a shield.

That is why the defence agreement signed between Saudi Arabia and Pakistan is a turning point. More than a symbolic pact, it represents a union of wealth and capability — the Gulf’s immense financial muscle combined with Pakistan’s proven strategic and military strength. For the first time, a major Muslim monarchy and the only declared nuclear state in the Islamic world have pledged to stand together against threats. The presence of the Saudi Crown Prince, Pakistan’s prime minister, and the army chief at the signing sent a signal that this was not a ceremonial gesture but a strategic compact with teeth.

Pakistan’s contribution is far deeper than military manpower alone. It is a declared nuclear power with both tactical and strategic arsenals, backed by a sophisticated research and industrial ecosystem. Its nuclear infrastructure includes laboratories, universities, and training institutes that have produced generations of engineers, scientists, and technicians capable of sustaining and advancing complex weapons systems. Beyond nuclear deterrence, Pakistan has demonstrated resilience and readiness against a far larger neighbour, India, proving its ability not only to repel aggression but to deliver punishing counterstrikes. This institutional depth, married to Saudi Arabia’s wealth, creates the basis for scaling both conventional and advanced capabilities — from missiles and drones to robotics and AI-driven defence systems.

Turkey brings another indispensable dimension: high-tech platforms, defence firms, and training institutions. Turkish companies have already joined the world’s top tier of arms exporters, producing drones, avionics, naval systems, and electronic warfare suites that have been battle-tested in Libya, Syria, and Ukraine. Its Bayraktar drones have redefined modern conflict, while its aerospace and shipbuilding capacity can scale rapidly when supplied with Gulf funding. Turkey also possesses advanced academies for training pilots, engineers, and technicians, making it the natural hub for developing the technical backbone of an Ummah force. President Erdoğan has long urged the creation of a collective Muslim defence mechanism, and Turkey has the industrial wherewithal to make that vision real.

The contours of such an Ummah force are clear. Gulf states can fund joint research and industrial hubs; Pakistan provides strategic depth and a trained scientific-industrial workforce; Turkey contributes high-tech systems, training, and logistics; while manpower-rich nations such as Egypt, Indonesia, and Bangladesh can field disciplined soldiers and peacekeepers. Together, this combination could deliver not just a defensive shield but an offensive rescue capability, able to respond wherever communities face annihilation, genocide, or ethnic cleansing.

This dual mandate — defence and rescue — is not adventurism but moral duty. Islam commands believers to protect the oppressed. The Qur’an tells us that saving a single life is as if saving all of humanity. The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) likened the Ummah to a single body: if one part suffers, the entire body responds. Islamic history itself is filled with examples where Muslim rulers defended non-Muslim communities from tyranny, offering sanctuary and protection. That moral foundation makes it incumbent on the Ummah to act not just for Muslims but for any oppressed people — Christian, Jewish, Hindu, or otherwise. The legitimacy of such a force rests on its universality and humanitarian mission.

But to achieve this, the Ummah must first break its chains of dependency. For decades, Muslim nations have hosted foreign bases justified as protective umbrellas. In practice, these installations often served other strategic purposes. When Gaza was bombarded and when sovereign airspace was violated, these bases stood silent. Worse, they sometimes enabled aggression rather than preventing it. No collective Muslim force can rise while strategic autonomy is compromised by dependency on external patrons. The Saudi–Pakistan pact challenges that old paradigm, but it must be followed by broader moves to reduce foreign military footprints and replace them with joint Muslim institutions.

Modern warfare also demands forward-looking investment. AI-guided drones, cyber capabilities, autonomous vehicles, and satellite surveillance now define the battlefield. If Muslim states pooled even a fraction of their estimated $3.5 trillion in sovereign wealth funds into defence innovation, they could leapfrog into the cutting edge of military technology. Pakistan’s research base, Turkey’s industrial ecosystem, and Gulf financing could together establish drone factories, AI defence labs, and secure space-based monitoring systems. This would not only strengthen deterrence but also reduce dependence on foreign suppliers, who often impose restrictions or cut supplies at critical moments.

The structure of such a force must be carefully designed. It should begin with an Ummah Defence Council to draft doctrine and oversee pooled financing. Within two years, a rapid deployment brigade could be fielded for humanitarian rescue and deterrence missions. Within five years, joint industrial hubs could begin producing interoperable drones, missiles, and electronic warfare systems. Within a decade, a fully integrated command structure, backed by advanced intelligence and space-based assets, could serve as the core of a formidable, autonomous Ummah shield.

Yet power without legitimacy can be as dangerous as weakness. This force must be accountable to peoples, not just rulers. Democracies should involve parliamentary oversight; monarchies should seek consultative legitimacy through representative bodies. Rules of engagement must prioritise civilian protection and humanitarian rescue. Without such safeguards, the project risks becoming another tool of oppression rather than a shield against it.

The stakes could not be higher. The humiliation of watching Israel, a state of fewer than ten million, impose its will on 57 Muslim nations with a combined population of two billion is intolerable. The continued slaughter of Palestinians, the ethnic cleansing of Rohingya, the marginalisation of Indian Muslims, and the insecurity of Muslim minorities worldwide are not just tragedies but indictments of Muslim leadership. If leaders fail to act, history will remember their silence more harshly than their speeches. Wealth will be seen as squandered opportunity, and populations will inherit only shame.

But if leaders seize this moment — if the Saudi–Pakistan pact becomes the nucleus of a wider force, if Turkey’s technology is scaled with Gulf capital, if manpower is organised into disciplined, accountable units — then the Ummah could finally reclaim its dignity. More than a shield, it could be a beacon: a force that defends the Middle East, deters aggressors, and rescues the oppressed anywhere in the world, fulfilling the Qur’anic injunction to stand with the weak and the Prophet’s teaching to protect victims of tyranny. That vision, if realised, would transform helplessness into strength, lament into action, and humiliation into dignity.

Doha revealed the weakness. Riyadh and Islamabad have begun the remedy. The rest of the Ummah must now decide: will this be another moment of rhetoric, or the beginning of a historic transformation? The answer will determine whether Muslims remain spectators of their own tragedies or become agents of their own security and defenders of universal human dignity.

Press Secretary to the President (Rtd)

Former Press Minister, Embassy of Pakistan to France

Former Press Attache to Malaysia

Former MD, SRBC | Macomb, Michigan, USA