Operation Epic Fury — the latest round of military strikes against Iran — began when Iran was engaged in negotiations with the United States to renew restrictions on its nuclear programme.

This is not the first time the United States has bombed Iran during nuclear negotiations.

In June 2025, while its representatives were in talks with Iran over that country’s ability to produce nuclear weapons, Washington launched Operation Midnight Hammer, targeting three Iranian nuclear facilities in Fordow, Natanz and Isfahan.

Washington has been broader in its selection of targets in Iran this time around, even though one stated US goal has been to ensure that Iran does not gain nuclear weapons capability.

By launching strikes on Iran even as negotiations were underway, Washington may have secured short-term military gains at the cost of long-term diplomatic credibility. Its fallout is likely to reshape future nuclear agreements…

Conducting military strikes against a country that is engaged in negotiations to reduce its nuclear capacity sets a dangerous precedent. As a scholar of the global nuclear order, I believe that the conflict has jeopardised all future diplomacy to limit the spread of nuclear weapons.

The US military action during negotiations has also undermined Washington’s ability to conduct diplomacy to end the war. Iranian officials negotiating with mediators have expressed their concern that they “don’t want to be ‘fooled again’”, according to a report in [US-based news website] Axios, and that any new set of negotiations might just be a ruse to conduct more attacks.

Breaking trust

The key components of any negotiations are trust and good faith.

Parties coming to a negotiating table to discuss their nuclear programmes must trust that those across the table are acting in good faith. Past negotiations on nuclear arms control and risk-reduction measures between entrenched enemies, such as the US and the Soviet Union or even India and Pakistan, have seen trust as a key component of coming to the table.

Trust has its own diplomatic cachet. It allows negotiating states to be a little more vulnerable, thus facilitating the possibility of softened positions leading to landmark agreements.

In the 1960s, negotiations were held to establish a global agreement — the Treaty on the Non-proliferation of Nuclear Weapons — to prevent the spread of nuclear weapons. Nations without nuclear weapons had to trust that countries with them would not use their atomic arsenals to gain military advantage over them, as they committed to forswear the possession and development of these weapons. Today all but one of the non-nuclear countries of the world — South Sudan — are signatories to the treaty.

The consequences of Washington’s military strikes would be even more grave if a new nuclear deal between Iran and the US was truly within reach in the negotiations in Geneva days before the conflict started. This is because the reported concessions from Iran were substantial enough to have warranted a pause in Washington’s military strategy.

A day before Operation Epic Fury began, Oman’s foreign minister Badr bin Hamad al Busaidi, the principal mediator in the talks, announced that Iran had agreed to zero stockpiling. That is, Tehran would give up its enriched uranium, would down-blend — nuclear-speak for diluting — all material that was previously highly enriched to a neutral level, and be subject to “full and comprehensive verification” by the International Atomic Energy Agency.

If true, these terms could have made any new agreement between the US and Iran as consequential as the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action negotiated between the US and Iran under [former] President Obama’s administration [in 2015].

The violation of trust by the US will be keenly observed by North Korea. In early March 2026, that country conducted tests of what it called “strategic cruise missiles” — missiles it suggests could have nuclear capability — stating that its ability to attack from under and above water was growing and that it was arming its navy with nuclear weapons.

Any possibility of bilateral negotiations between the US and North Korea on its nuclear and missile programmes will now be marked by the unreliability of the US as a good faith negotiator.

Imperilled future

With its actions in Iran, the US has lost credibility as a leading international interlocutor in service of global non-proliferation diplomacy.

Key to a nation’s credibility during negotiations is the reputation that it builds from its past actions. Both instances of the US bombing Iran while negotiating with it will make it very unlikely that other countries will engage with Washington in future nuclear diplomacy.

Those countries that want to take part in nuclear diplomacy involving the US will likely ask that other, trusted countries participate as well. They will also likely seek security guarantees before engaging in negotiations. This will mean that China and the European Union — countries, alliances or institutions that might help keep the US accountable — will likely have to be a part of any such diplomacy.

Loss of trust in the US’ good faith will likely continue across future US administrations after the Trump presidency. This will be because of uncertainty over the credibility of international commitments made by the US. An agreement made by one administration could be reneged on by the next.

Another area of concern is that, in the future, a country on the threshold of gaining nuclear weapons might not arrive at the negotiating table fully ready to give up all parts of its nuclear programme. Even if a country does make concessions, it might choose to hold on to some part of its nuclear or missile programme as a guarantee against a future American military strike.

The future of negotiations over nuclear proliferation may yet expand beyond that focus to ballistic missiles as well. Recall that Trump began the latest conflict saying that Iran’s ballistic missiles were an “imminent threat” to the US and its bases abroad. Nuclear weapons programmes and ballistic missile programmes often go together. Countries with such missile programmes that are not allied with the US might also be future targets of bilateral diplomatic and military action.

The loss of trust and good faith has substantially reduced the ability of the US to diplomatically address not only broader nuclear and missile non-proliferation concerns but also its own national security needs. Under these circumstances, military action might be the most tempting option for Washington to secure these goals — and that is dangerous.

The writer is Assistant Professor at the University of Denver, USA

Republished from The Conversation

Published in Dawn, EOS, April 5th, 2026

The journey to Kasur in central Punjab reveals the shrine of Bulleh Shah (d. 1757) mid-renovation, caught in upheaval. Though the work is ongoing, the new architectural vision — a relentless remodelling — feels strangely restrictive.

The burial site is being encased within a massive, rectangular iron platform, a towering skeletal frame that currently encases the grave. What was once a simple structure is being replaced by something strangely overpowering.

Punjabi scholar Iqbal Qaiser describes this newness as the “shackling” of Bulleh Shah. His words carry the memory of the older structure: its two circular arches and a longer, corridor-like passage that mirrored the shape of a charkha [spinning wheel].

The arches symbolised reciprocity and balance; their curves embodied a grace that has now been stripped away. That characteristic silhouette once provided an entryway to the poet’s pastoral world.

The ongoing ‘renovation’ of the shrine in Kasur of Sufi poet Bulleh Shah is mired in a shocking lack of vision — choosing pomp and grandeur for a man of the masses, enforcing gender restrictions for a poet who often wrote in the feminine voice and forcing his grave to share space with a man history remembers very differently from him…

Those who have heard Bulleh Shah understand how the poet and the charkha are inextricably intertwined; his many poems in the kafi form repeat the rhythmic hum of the spindle, channelling the voice of a woman at the wheel in a tradition that stretches back to 16th century Sufi poet Shah Hussain.

This is the burial place where, in 1758, the mullahs refused the poet his right to a communal graveyard. As a saint-singer whose lyrics delivered scathing truths, Bulleh Shah was the enfant terrible of his time. Occupying a space outside religious identities — Hindu nahin, na Musalman [I am neither Hindu nor Muslim] — the poet posed a provocative challenge to the religious authorities.

The belief that Divinity transcends physical structures, mosques and temples, is a realisation many find hard to accept. Such defiance of tradition explains why he was deemed unworthy of proper burial ground and burial rites.

STRANGE BEDFELLOWS

Poet Taufiq Rafat, in his foreword to Bulleh Shah’s translations, notes a sharp irony: the privileged now pay handsomely to be buried near a man they once condemned as beyond salvation.

The irony of the site deepens on the nearby marbled floors, where the grave of Nawab Mohammad Ahmad Khan Kasuri (1903–1974) lies. While his tombstone marks him as a “shaheed” [martyr], history remembers him differently.

Kasuri was assassinated in a car ambush, allegedly ordered by former prime minister Zulfikar Ali Bhutto. He was also the magistrate who signed and witnessed the hanging of the revolutionary hero Bhagat Singh. While Bhagat Singh became a symbol of defiance against the British, supported by figures such as Quaid-i-Azam Muhammad Ali Jinnah and Jawaharlal Nehru, Kasuri was granted the title of “Nawab” for his service.

The story of Nawab Kasuri is one of the most consequential turning points in Pakistan’s political and legal history, particularly since it provided the ‘legal’ basis for the execution of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto. Following Bhutto’s hanging during Gen Ziaul Haq’s reign, Kasuri and his wife were granted this burial space.

Those who connect these stories are stunned by the paradox: a maverick saint, once denied funeral rites by the religious orthodoxy, now rests alongside a man whose legacy is defined by compromise and service to both the British Raj and a military dictator, one remembered by many as a traitor to his own people.

SUBVERTING WHAT HE STOOD FOR

A white placard with red, worn-out script announces: “Women are not allowed to enter the inner chamber, the burial place.” The sign could not be more incongruous, knowing that in Bulleh Shah’s poetry, the female voice is abundantly present.

At times, the poet takes on the persona of the legendary Punjabi folk heroine Heer; at others, that of an anonymous girl weary of gathering flowers in a field, or of a female lover, virahini, awaiting a tryst with her beloved.

The tomb of the poet who subverts essentialised binaries and performs as the feminine seeker is now guarded by the very boundaries he dismantled. Why is it that such limitations are imposed at the shrine of a man who wrote in the persona of a woman and rejected the classifications of class, ethnicity and religion?

One finds oneself wondering whether the conventional pronoun even fits — whether a more fluid understanding of identity better serves the figure he represents. While many may not have read his verse, the musical renditions of his poetry have struck a chord through generations. His lyrics speak to those who have loved and suffered social or class-based discrimination, using the poetic trope of the feminine.

AN OSCILLATING LEGACY

Bulleh Shah, born Abdullah, possesses a magnetic personality whose biography has been pulled in opposing directions — cast alternately as traditional saint and radical rebel. His legacy oscillates between myth and critique.

US scholar Robin Rinehart cautions readers against misinterpreting the poet’s works through the lens of exaggerated biography, using the term ‘The Portable Bullhe Shah’ (sic). Yet, within the poems, a miraculous space opens, where Bulleh Shah can be experienced directly, and the verses reveal a strikingly unconventional voice.

Permeated within his poems is a visceral, raw expression of love. Though meant for the ears, not the eyes, while reading Bulleh Shah’s poems, one can’t escape experiencing moments of fierce anarchic emotion.

Indian scholar Denis Matringe has explored the poetic and devotional genealogies from which Bulleh Shah draws — a fusion of Krishnaite Bhakti with Sufi thought. The popular ethos of his work weaves together an astonishing range of mystical traditions: Nath, Ismaili, Persian, Krishnaite and Sufi, mingled with the voice of the oppressed.

Poems like Main kusumba chun chun haari [I am weary of picking the safflower] resonate with the lived experiences of a common labourer. Lesser-known poems evoke pagan imagery, as seen in Ik tona achamba gawan gi/ Main rootha yaar manawan gi [I shall sing a wondrous spell to win back my lost beloved]. In these verses, the girl summons the moon, the night and magic, transforming the pain of separation into a vibrant world of the imagination.

In its most critical instances, this vernacular poetry condemns scriptural knowledge and religious orthodoxy: Dhar masaal dharai wasdai/ Thakur dawaray thug/ Vich maseet ko seetay rahaindai/ Ashiq rahan alag [In the temple, the idols are installed/ In the monastery, the swindlers stay/ Inside the mosque, the cold-hearted sit in silence/ But the lovers, they remain apart from it all].

ARCHITECTURE OF BETRAYAL

Punjab’s Auqaf and Religious Affairs Department suffers from a shocking lack of historical and cultural perspective. Squandering vast sums on extravagant, hollow architecture is fundamentally anti-people and a violation of the very spirit Bulleh Shah represents.

As a poet of the masses, Bulleh Shah’s legacy is betrayed by this new aesthetic, which displays the worst of conventional morality and an empty idealisation of pomp and grandeur.

What, exactly, is the agenda behind this renovation? Within his own poems, Bulleh Shah emerges as anything but a doctrinaire or majestic icon. Instead, he remains the subversive voice of the marginalised, such as Main choohrian sachay sahab de darbaron [I am but a humble sweeper in the courtyard of my Beloved].

As we travelled back from Kasur, Iqbal Qaisar expressed his hope that the glass cases housing Bulleh Shah’s sitar, godari [quilt] and topi [cap] would eventually be restored to their rightful place within the renovated shrine.

One must wonder whether Abdullah himself — the man behind the myth — ever wished to be remembered as a populist icon, let alone a deified one.

The writer is a PhD scholar working on Punjabi poets.

She can be contacted at ayesharamzan83@gmail.com

Published in Dawn, EOS, April 5th, 2026

“I was roaming around the streets when fate brought boxing to me,” exclaims Qudratullah, looking back at how he began boxing in Quetta. Qudratullah is currently one of the most underrated performers in the Pakistani sports arena.

Little did he know that, as a 16-year-old at the time, his hard work would result in him becoming an Islamic Solidarity Games medal-winner in a matter of four years. The 20-year-old took the bronze medal in Riyadh last month in the 51kg event. But this was not his first international medal.

He took his first international medal at the Belt and Road International Boxing Gala 57kg event that took place in China last August. And in December 2025, Qudrat secured a silver medal for his departmental team, the Pakistan Army, during the National Games, where 13 other sides were competing.

But the real success for this resident of Pashtunabad in Quetta, a city that has given numerous international boxers to Pakistan, has been that of fighting against the odds in day-to-day life too. Qudrat is following his passion in a society and a staunchly capitalist system that is designed to disempower him and keep him stuck in a cycle of poverty.

In a just world, a 20-year-old talented boxer who has won accolades for the country would not be working as a labourer just to make ends meet. But that is exactly what Qudrat does. He juggles regular training and keeping fit with working as a line cook at a local restaurant kitchen, where he makes parathas. He needs to work at least two jobs to make ends meet, take care of his family and stay fit as a professional athlete.

“At 16, I was working at a hotel as a labourer, when my coach and ustaad [mentor and teacher] Moulvi Ishaq Muhammad noticed me and he invited me to box,” explains Qudrat. “That was the luckiest day for me, as boxing chose me. The sport gave me a greater purpose.” He now trains at the Al Muslim Sports Academy in Karachi.

“I remember when I first went to the club, I just chose to show up and see what happens,” recalls Qudrat. “I didn’t have the shoes or the gloves, but my ustaad, Moulvi Ishaq, was kind to me. He gave me gloves and shoes, and he took care of me. He is the reason why I am getting these medals, because he believed in me. He did everything for me, and he never charged fees from me, which was a massive help.”

Moulvi Ishaq remembers the first time he saw Qudratullah. “I saw him, and I thought he had that fight in him.” Ishaq had been a boxer himself, boxing since 1990 and becoming the Balochistan champion, before switching to coaching and opening his own club in 2001.

“It is like a scholarship programme,” he says of his club. “I pick an athlete and see how he does at the local club level, then district level and when I see he has the talent and potential to become better at boxing, I support him in every way I can. Many boys from my club have gone on to compete at the national and international level, and departmental teams pick them. So it is a breeding ground of future champions from Balochistan,” says Ishaq, who has also served as the Wushu coach for Wapda.

But Qudrat also remembers how difficult it was for him to prove his mettle, even at the club level where many talented boxers trained. “It was a challenge. There were extreme economic constraints at home, but I needed to train hard. Overcoming such difficulties was the key for me. It really was about survival, and it still is about survival.”

The hard work, fuelled by the desire to make his life better, helped Qudrat make his national debut in 2022, as he competed at the U-18 and U-17 National Boxing Championship in Karachi. He ended up bagging silver medals in both the U-17 and U-18 events, to mark his arrival on the national circuit. Qudrat then competed at the 34th National Games that took place in Quetta, representing Balochistan. Today, he is a three-time All-Quetta champion in his weight category. All this while he has been working as a labourer when not training and competing.

This captured the attention of Maj Irfan Younis of the Pakistan Army and the secretary of the Pakistan Boxing Federation, who helped him get a departmental job with the Army. Qudrat made him proud by winning gold at the 4th Inter-Department National Boxing Championship 2024, which featured the crème de la crème of Pakistani boxers.

But 2025 was truly Qudrat’s year, as he was finally crowned the national champion at the 41st National Boxing Championship. He managed to take the Inter-Services Championship gold medal too, along with international successes in China and at the Islamic Solidarity Games in Riyadh.

“It has been a good year,” accepts Qudrat. “I know I competed well at the national events, but also in international events. I gave a tough time to my opponents, Cuban and Uzbek boxers in China, and these are the athletes who are training to compete at the Olympics.

“I feel I have the fight and the skill, though there is not much support for it. I joined the Army two years ago, and I can’t thank Major Irfan enough for it. He has helped me with international events, and we have delivered almost 100 per cent results.”

Qudrat adds a note of caution, however. “I say 100 per cent because I have won two medals in both international events I was sent to, but the truth is that we need government support in terms of money and facilities, along with expertise,” he says. “We need the systems that can help us, we need stability.”

Qudrat hopes for professional camps, international coaches and tours, and having enough money to solely focus on training for events without worrying about how to meet his day-to-day expenses on a shoe-string budget.

“I am running on self-belief,” he asserts. “In China, at the Belt and Road International Boxing Youth Gala, we had competitors from 26 countries and it was such a learning experience for me, it gave me confidence. Then I went to the Islamic Solidarity Games, where 57 countries were competing, so that was tougher, but I kept the faith that I could deliver. When push came to shove, I gave it my all and fought and survived in the ring. I am just grateful that Allah blessed me with success and the medal.”

Survival is more of a skill than an instinct in an unstable economic and political environment. Qudrat points out he is not the only one facing this issue. Many other boxers come from humble backgrounds like his. They have no money for gloves or shoes or kits, and yet they persevere.

“Poverty can be a blunt force to stop youngsters from progressing in life and pursuing careers in things they are passionate about,” he says. “My ultimate dream is to compete at the Olympics, but that needs a proper diet, and we need government support for that kind of preparation. Like, right now, I have a job with the Army, but I also need to work as a labourer because I need to make ends meet and then save something for myself for a rainy day.”

When asked if he has a special diet, he laughs and says that he has no specific diet, but he has the hunger to get to the top.

“I give half of my salary at home to my family. The other half that is left is for me to take care of myself as an athlete, take care of the expenses and then to save some, but it is not a lot of money. However, I will do everything I can to compete at the Olympics and win a medal too,” he says.

The writer is a sports journalist.

X: @NatashaRaheel

Published in Dawn, EOS, April 5th, 2026