Pakistan's Foreign Policy Flip-Flop or Calculated Balancing Act? The Iran–Saudi Arabia Tightrope Explained

By Yasir Rai | April 7, 2026

If you have been following Pakistan's foreign policy over the past few weeks, you might be feeling a little dizzy. One day, Islamabad is tweeting in solidarity with Iran, condemning US-Israeli airstrikes as violations of international law. The next, Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif is on the phone with Saudi Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, pledging "full solidarity and support." Then Pakistan is hosting a four-nation ministerial summit and positioning itself as the region's peacemaker.

So what is actually going on? Is Pakistan switching sides, serving its own interests, or simply doing what it has always done — playing every hand at once?

The answer, as is usually the case with Pakistan, is all three.

The Context: A War That Caught Pakistan in the Middle

On February 28, 2026, the United States and Israel launched joint strikes on Iran, killing Supreme Leader Ayatollah Ali Khamenei and triggering one of the most destabilising conflicts the Middle East has seen in decades. Iran retaliated with missile and drone attacks on Israel and multiple Gulf states, including Saudi Arabia. Within hours, Pakistan — a country that shares a 900-kilometre border with Iran and has millions of workers employed in Gulf countries — found itself caught in an impossible position.

This was not a conflict Pakistan chose to be part of. It was one it could not afford to ignore.

The Two Masters Pakistan Cannot Afford to Lose

To understand why Pakistan's foreign policy looks contradictory, you need to understand what it stands to lose on each side.

On the Saudi side, Pakistan signed a Strategic Mutual Defence Agreement with Riyadh in September 2025 — its most significant formal defence commitment in decades. The agreement, modelled loosely on NATO's Article 5, states that aggression against one party is considered aggression against both. Beyond the legal obligation, Saudi Arabia has been Pakistan's financial lifeline for generations. Riyadh has bailed Pakistan out during economic crises, invested in its energy and mineral sectors, and hosts millions of Pakistani workers whose remittances are a critical source of foreign exchange.

On the Iranian side, the stakes are just as serious, though different in nature. Pakistan shares nearly a thousand kilometres of border with Iran in Balochistan — one of its most volatile regions. Any conflict with Tehran risks cross-border escalation, a refugee influx, and the activation of Iran-aligned militant networks inside Pakistan. The Strait of Hormuz, through which most of Pakistan's oil imports pass, was partially closed by Iran's retaliatory actions — causing an immediate energy crisis at home. Pakistan also has an estimated 15 to 20 percent Shia population, and the assassination of Khamenei triggered widespread protests in major cities.

In short, Pakistan needed Iran to not be its enemy, and it needed Saudi Arabia to stay its ally. Choosing between them was simply not an option.

What Pakistan Actually Did — And Why It Looked Inconsistent

Pakistan's initial response was careful, if awkward. It condemned the US-Israeli strikes on Iran as "unwarranted" and, within the same breath, condemned Iran's retaliatory strikes on Gulf states as "blatant violations of sovereignty." Foreign Minister Ishaq Dar, who was attending an OIC meeting in Riyadh when the war broke out, immediately launched what he described as "shuttle communication" between Tehran and Riyadh — calling it Pakistan's duty to defuse tensions.

Then came the tweets. Pakistan's foreign office posted messages that read sympathetic to Iran's position — condemning the killing of a head of state and calling for international law to be respected. This drew sharp attention, especially given that Pakistan simultaneously reminded Iran, publicly, that it had defence obligations to Saudi Arabia.

The pivot toward Saudi Arabia became more visible as Iranian strikes on Gulf soil intensified. PM Sharif met MBS in Jeddah and expressed full solidarity. Phone calls with Gulf leaders followed. Pakistan's army chief, Field Marshal Asim Munir — who had already built a personal rapport with the Trump administration — met Shia clerics in Rawalpindi to manage domestic sectarian tensions, warning that "violence in Pakistan based on incidents in another country will not be tolerated."

To outside observers, this looked like Pakistan switching lanes. In reality, it was Pakistan doing exactly what its strategic situation demanded.

The March 29 Moment: Pakistan as Regional Mediator

The clearest signal of what Pakistan was actually trying to do came on March 29, 2026, when the foreign ministers of Saudi Arabia, Turkey, and Egypt flew to Islamabad — not Ankara, where the meeting was originally planned — for a four-nation consultative summit. Pakistan hosted talks, and the delegation released a joint statement calling for an immediate ceasefire, diplomatic engagement, and the restoration of shipping through the Strait of Hormuz.

Days later, FM Dar — despite a hairline fracture sustained during the Islamabad meetings — flew to Beijing, where Pakistan and China jointly announced a five-point peace plan for the Gulf and Middle East. The plan was shared with both Iran and the United States and received positive responses from across the region.

For Pakistan, this was the endgame all along. Not choosing sides, but becoming indispensable to both.

Why Pakistan Is Uniquely Positioned for This Role

Pakistan's mediating position is not accidental, and it is not just diplomatic ambition. There are structural reasons why it is suited to this role in a way that very few countries are.

It has a Shia population second in size only to Iran's, giving it credibility in Tehran. It is the ideological heartland of Sunni political Islam, giving it standing with Gulf states. It has no diplomatic relations with Israel, making it acceptable to Iran and Arab populations in a way that Western mediators are not. It has a functioning military relationship with both Saudi Arabia and the United States. And Field Marshal Asim Munir has direct lines to the Trump White House — Trump himself reportedly referred to him as his "favourite Field Marshal."

Add to this China's backing for Pakistan's peace initiative, and Islamabad suddenly finds itself at the centre of a diplomatic channel that no other country can replicate.

Is This Really a Course Change, or Is It Just Pakistan Being Pakistan?

Here is the honest answer: what looks like a course change is actually the most consistent thing about Pakistani foreign policy.

Pakistan has been doing this since the Cold War. In the 1950s, it joined US-led anti-communist pacts while maintaining ties with China. In the 1970s, it facilitated the Nixon–Kissinger back-channel to Beijing while preserving its relationship with Washington. In the 1980s, it was the frontline state in the US proxy war against the Soviet Union in Afghanistan. It has maintained an "all-weather" partnership with China even as it aligned with America.

What looks like inconsistency is, in fact, a deliberate strategy of keeping all doors open. Pakistan rarely commits fully to any one bloc. It manoeuvres between competing powers, extracting maximum leverage from the fact that everyone needs it a little — and no one can afford to lose it entirely.

The current situation is that playbook in its purest form. The tweets favouring Iran were about reassuring Tehran and managing domestic public opinion. The phone calls with MBS were about honouring treaty obligations and protecting billions in economic ties. The mediation summit was about converting that balancing act into actual diplomatic capital.

The Risks in This Strategy

None of this means Pakistan's approach is without danger.

The mutual defence pact with Saudi Arabia remains a latent pressure point. If Iran were to significantly escalate strikes on Saudi soil and Riyadh formally invoked the agreement, Pakistan would face a choice it has been trying to avoid: go to war with a neighbour it shares nearly a thousand kilometres of border with, or walk back a treaty commitment that underpins its Gulf relationships and economic survival.

There is also the domestic dimension. Pakistan's Shia community, estimated at a fifth of the population, is deeply agitated. Protests erupted in Karachi, Lahore, and Islamabad following Khamenei's assassination. Managing religious sentiment while publicly cozying up to Saudi Arabia — and implicitly, the US-Saudi axis — is a politically treacherous task.

And there is the credibility problem. Mediation only works if both sides trust the mediator. Pakistan's visible tilt toward Saudi Arabia, even when framed as treaty obligation, gives Iran reason to question whether Islamabad can truly play neutral broker.

The Bottom Line

Pakistan has not changed its foreign policy. It has revealed it.

What you are watching is a country with overlapping, contradictory alliances trying to survive a war it did not start, protect an economy it cannot afford to destabilise, and turn a crisis into an opportunity — all at the same time.

The tweets that seemed pro-Iran, the phone calls with MBS, the mediation summits, the five-point peace plans — these are not contradictions. They are the components of a single, self-interested strategy: stay indispensable to everyone, align fully with no one, and make sure that when this war ends, Pakistan is at the table.

Whether it works is another question entirely. But calling it a flip-flop misses the point. This is Pakistan doing what Pakistan does — and doing it under more pressure than it has faced in a very long time.

Keywords: Pakistan foreign policy 2026, Pakistan Iran Saudi Arabia war, Pakistan mediator Iran war, Pakistan mutual defence pact Saudi Arabia, Islamabad peace talks Iran, Pakistan balancing act Middle East, Ishaq Dar shuttle diplomacy, Asim Munir Iran war