Afghan Villages Bear the Human Cost of Pakistan’s Border Policy 

By Rahmatullah Achakzai 

KHOST/NANGARHAR — Along the jagged ridges that trace Afghanistan’s eastern frontier, the stakes of border control are not abstract. For generations, Pashtun tribes have traversed the lands now divided by the Durand Line with ease, conducting trade, seeking medical care, marrying across valleys, and moving herds with the seasons. That world is increasingly under siege by fences, checkpoints, and artillery.

This is the human story behind Islamabad’s militarised border policy—of barbed wire and missed connections, of livelihoods disrupted, and of ancient ties severed.

Fencing Off a Way of Life

In 2016, Pakistan initiated a large-scale plan to build a fence along much of the Durand Line, citing threats of militant infiltration and smuggling.  Since 2017 the barrier—ranging from barbed wire installations to more formalised checkpoints—has steadily spread.  

For many in the Pashtun borderlands, this isn’t just a physical construction—it’s a rupture. Long-held tribal lands have been cleaved; trails once trodden by shepherds and traders are blocked or redirected. Families living on either side of the Line—who once crossed with only identity cards or tribal acknowledgement—are now required to carry passports, visas, and pay customs fees.  

In Chaman, on Pakistan’s side, and Spin Boldak, on Afghanistan’s, two communities once bound by shared marketplaces and familial bonds now face hour-long queues, tightening regulation, and a loss of trade. “Crossing the border often takes days and weeks,” says one trader from Pakistan’s North Waziristan, whose routes to Ghazni and Kabul have been made nearly impossible.  

Shells, Missiles, and Displacement

Border militarisation has not taken the form of fences alone. Repeated cross-border shelling, missile strikes, and raids have turned many Afghan border villages into theatres of fear.

In Nangarhar and Kunar provinces, Pakistani forces have on multiple occasions used rockets or artillery targeting what they claim are militant strongholds; civilians caught in the crossfire have died, and entire communities have fled. Upward of 200 families were displaced in one operation in eastern Afghanistan when Pakistani forces fired into areas like Lalpur district.  

In 2019, Afghan sources reported dozens of civilian casualties and widespread destruction in Khost and Kunar from shelling attributed to Pakistani forces.  

Locals describe exploding shells raining down in the middle of nights, grazing lands destroyed, water sources contaminated, even livestock lost. Many are now internally displaced—settling in temporary camps, or moving to provincial towns with little formal support.

The Cost to Identity, Economy, and Community

The impacts are not only immediate and violent. They ripple into every aspect of life: economy, identity, social cohesion.

• Trade and livelihoods: Markets that once pulsed daily with goods, people, families have slowed or shut. Customs fees, bureaucracy, and the physical obstacles of fenced borders have made formerly routine trade both costly and unpredictable.  
• Social & cultural links: Weddings, funerals, tribal ceremonies used to bring together people from both sides. Now, families must plan around permits and checkpoints. Many say that in the old days, tribal loyalty meant crossing the border unchallenged—even hiding members of their tribe when state authorities sought them; today such movement comes with legal risk.  
• Loss of citizenship and identity complications: Some border-dwellers report loss of access to governmental services, confusion over identity documents, and even the loss of paperwork needed to claim citizenship or educational entitlements on either side. Fences have made informal but crucial cross-border relations more visible—and thus more regulated.  

Between Security Logic and Human Suffering

From Pakistan’s perspective, these policies are essential. Militancy, smuggling, and ungoverned borderlands remain serious security challenges. A visible, controlled frontier is part of Islamabad’s response. Fencing and cross-border operations are integral to that strategy.  

Afghanistan, including the former governments and current Taliban authorities, has regularly protested that these policies violate sovereignty and violate the rights of border communities. They argue that many of the agreements which Pakistan points to as legitimising its actions are contested or were never properly ratified. The Durand Line itself remains not officially recognised by Afghanistan as a final border.  

Urgent Need for Reconnection, Not More Division

The situation calls for reconsideration. Without mitigating action, the costs will only deepen.

Some possible steps:

1. Humanitarian corridors & eased crossings: Special permits, or regularised facilitated crossings, particularly for trade, medical care, education, and family ties—not just visas and passports that many border-dwellers cannot reliably secure.
2. Transparent impact assessments: Before new fencing or border infrastructure is built, there should be studies of how it will affect local villages—economically, socially, and culturally.
3. Compensation and assistance: Support for those displaced by shelling or fencing. Reconstruction of damaged homes, recovery of lost livestock, access to public services.
4. Dialogue with tribal elders: The border-affected populations should have a voice at the table—tribal leaders whose authority still matters locally—to assert concerns and suggestions.
5. International oversight or mediation: Given the cross-border nature, international human rights bodies, or neutral mediators, might help monitor abuses and ensure both states abide by obligations regarding civilian protection.

A Border Without Humanity?

For those living in these divided lands, the Durand Line is no abstract political issue—it is a daily reality. The fence and the guns reshape their fields, their markets, their families.

In the quest for security, these communities have found themselves trapped between maps and missiles. What is required—and long overdue—is a border policy that balances state interests with human rights, that respects culture and connection, not just walls and watchtowers.

Because if policies continue to treat people as obstacles or risks rather than human beings, they do far more than encircle: they erode what it means to belong.

Rahmatullah Achakzai is a journalist based in Balochistan, covering human rights, regional politics, and cross-border issues.

Note: The contents of the article are of sole responsibility of the author. Afghan Diaspora Network will not be responsible for any inaccurate or incorrect statement in the articles.