Shah Hussain and Dr. Abdur Rehman

In Pakistan’s national imagination, the military is not simply a defence institution but a central architect of the state’s identity and security discourse. Nowhere is this more evident than in the borderlands of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, particularly South Waziristan, where the Pakistan Army’s discursive power has redefined the meaning of security, loyalty and nationhood. Using the framework of Discursive Institutionalism, this essay analyses how language, symbols and narratives produced by military institutions shape perceptions of legitimacy, authority, and belonging in a historically marginalised conflict zone.

Discursive Institutionalism asserts that institutions sustain power not only through formal rules or material control but through the production and circulation of ideas. It focuses on how discourses — structured systems of meaning — guide policy actions, shape social norms, and define what is considered rational or legitimate. In South Waziristan, the Pakistan Army’s discourse on counterterrorism, national unity, and development has functioned as a tool of governance, constructing a new socio-political reality in which security is equated with obedience to state authority.

Following years of militancy and displacement after 2001, the Army’s narrative of “bringing peace through development” became central to its local operations. Reconstruction projects under the “Winning Hearts and Minds” strategy were not only infrastructural but ideological. Schools, hospitals, and roads were framed in official communication as symbols of liberation rather than control. Local communities were encouraged to perceive the military as protectors and nation-builders. This narrative reshaping — through media campaigns, community gatherings, and school curricula — embedded a new discourse in which military intervention represented order, while dissent was linked to chaos or terrorism.

In South Waziristan, this discursive transformation had profound implications for local identity and political expression. Traditional leaders, such as tribal elders and religious scholars, found their authority challenged by a new linguistic order where terms like “terrorist,” “patriot” “loyal citizen” and “rehabilitation” were defined and enforced by the military establishment. The tribal code of Pashtunwali was gradually subordinated to the state’s lexicon of counterterrorism and national integration. Through ceremonies, speeches, and symbolic acts such as flag-hoisting and peace marches, the Army reinforced the idea that the restoration of normalcy depended on alignment with its vision of security.

Discursive Institutionalism helps explain how this process extended beyond coercion into persuasion and internalisation. The local population began to reproduce segments of the official narrative in everyday speech, accepting certain ideas as self-evident truths. The concept of “shaheed” (martyr) was broadened to include both soldiers and civilians, uniting them under a shared vocabulary of sacrifice. Similarly, the Army’s portrayal of South Waziristan as a “success story of rehabilitation” constructed a sense of progress that validated continued military presence.

However, beneath this discursive dominance lies a complex tension. While many residents acknowledge improvements in infrastructure and security, others perceive the narrative as exclusionary — silencing discussions on displacement, collective trauma and governance deficits. Alternative voices, including local journalists and activists, face structural barriers in contesting the official version of peace. The absence of inclusive dialogue has limited the scope of democratic expression in the region.

In conclusion, the case of South Waziristan demonstrates how the Pakistan Army’s discursive power operates as a form of institutional governance. By defining the language of security, it shapes both policy and perception, blurring the line between consent and control. Discursive Institutionalism thus reveals that power in Pakistan’s conflict zones is not exercised solely through force but through the ability to construct meaning. For sustainable peace, the state must open the discursive space to multiple voices, allowing local narratives to coexist with national ones. Only then can security evolve from a monologue of authority into a dialogue of inclusion.