After a lifetime of watching conflicts unfold, crises build and decisions being made in the shadows, I have learned to distrust one thing more than uncertainty itself: the illusion of certainty.
There was a time when strategic competition appeared to follow recognizable rules. States pursued identifiable interests. Alliances provided a measure of predictability. Deterrence imposed caution. Intelligence offered warnings. None of this made the world safe, but it created the reassuring belief that, with sufficient preparation, the next crisis could be anticipated. That belief is becoming increasingly difficult to sustain.
The strategic environment has changed fundamentally. Competition no longer takes place primarily on the battlefield. It extends across military, economic, technological, cyber, informational, institutional and cognitive domains. A state can now be weakened, constrained or coerced without a conventional invasion. Strategic advantage can be achieved without a decisive military victory.The world is not merely becoming more dangerous. It is becoming harder to read.
Great-power competition no longer follows a single axis. Conflicts rarely remain confined to the geography in which they begin. A war in one region can disrupt energy markets, food supplies, trade routes and political calculations thousands of miles away.
Technology has compressed decision-making time, while drones, artificial intelligence, cyber capabilities and information warfare have created possibilities scarcely imaginable a generation ago. Yet perhaps the most consequential battlefield is one that cannot be seen on a map: the information domain.
Narratives increasingly shape perceptions, influence political choices and determine how societies interpret events. The contest is no longer only over territory, resources or military positions. It is also over what people believe, whom they trust and what they regard as reality.
More importantly, different forms of crisis are beginning to interact in ways that are difficult to anticipate. A military confrontation can trigger an economic shock. An economic crisis can produce political instability. Political instability can be amplified by information operations. Each pressure can magnify the others. What appears manageable in isolation can become dangerous when several pressures converge.
For strategists, this presents a profound challenge. Partnerships and alliances are becoming more fluid. The distinction between competitor, partner and adversary is not always clear. Who is influencing whom, who is contesting whom, and who is being used by whom can become almost impossible to determine with confidence. South Asia is particularly exposed to these dynamics. Its longstanding rivalries, unresolved disputes, nuclear deterrence and internal vulnerabilities create a strategic environment in which full-scale war may be constrained while competition below the threshold of war continues.
Pakistan, in particular, cannot afford to view this changing environment only through the traditional lens of military preparedness. Its security will increasingly depend on the resilience of its economy, institutions, technological capabilities, information environment and national cohesion. In an era of hybrid competition, vulnerabilities within a state can become strategic pressure points for those seeking to influence its choices without firing a shot. This raises an uncomfortable question for every strategist: Are we spending too much time trying to predict the next crisis and too little preparing for the possibility that our prediction will be wrong?
Prediction will always matter. Intelligence, early warning and strategic foresight remain indispensable. But probabilities are not certainties. History repeatedly demonstrates that major crises often emerge not from a single dramatic development, but from the convergence of several developments that initially appeared manageable.
The answer, therefore, is not to abandon prediction but to complement it with resilience.
We need to reconsider what national security actually means.
Security is no longer simply the capacity to deter or defeat an armed attack. It is also the ability of a state and society to absorb shocks, preserve institutional functionality, sustain economic and technological strength, protect the integrity of the information environment, maintain public confidence and legitimacy, and continue making rational decisions under sustained pressure.National power has consequently evolved.
Economic statecraft is now an instrument of strategic influence. Information operations seek to shape perceptions and behaviour. Strategic narratives determine how events are understood and, ultimately, how political choices are made. Technology connects and amplifies military, economic, institutional, informational and cognitive power.
The central strategic question is therefore changing. It is no longer simply whether a state can win the next war, but whether it possesses the national resilience to withstand the next crisis,including the crises it failed to predict. For Pakistan and other states navigating an increasingly contested world, that distinction may prove decisive. Strategic resilience is no longer an option. It is an imperative.
—The writer, a retired Brigadier, is security analyst and author of book “Caught in the crossfire”.
