IF geography determines a country’s destiny, then Pakistan’s location is a mixed blessing. On the one hand, we stand at a critical faultline between South Asia and Central Asia, in an area that has been fought over by invading armies and local forces for centuries.

On the other, our geopolitical location makes us prime real estate that has enabled successive Pakistani governments to extract significant amounts as rent from the West as well as from China.

From a frontline state in the Cold War to a major non-Nato ally of the United States, we have managed to balance our Western connections with our ties with China. This is because China has based its Pakistan policy on that old maxim: my enemy’s enemy is my best friend. As long as India and China remain at loggerheads over their disputed border, the latter will continue supporting Pakistan.

However, relations with our other neighbours remain rocky. India, of course, is a perennial enemy, and is the focus of decades of animosity. Divided by history, we have fought three major wars as well as a bloody battle in Kargil. Siachen continues to claim the lives of Indian and Pakistani soldiers facing each other across the highest battlefield in the world.

But while the hostility with India is at least understandable in terms of power politics and disputes over territory, rising tensions with Iran and Afghanistan are more perplexing. Surely we cannot afford to alienate all our neighbours excepting China. And even China is growing exasperated with what it views as our tolerance towards Uighur separatists based in Pakistan.

It is precisely this laid-back, laissez-faire attitude towards enemies of our neighbours based on our soil that is angering our friends. Iran has recently gone to the United Nations to secure the release of five border guards kidnapped by Jaish-e-Adel, a Sunni group operating along the Baloch-Iran border.

One of the guards has been reportedly murdered by the terrorists, and Iran is furious about the perceived lack of action by Pakistan to secure their release.

Afghanistan, too, has repeatedly expressed its frustration over Islamabad’s refusal to take on the Haqqani network in North Waziristan. This group has launched a large number of lethal attacks against Western and Afghan targets from across the border.

And yet despite many protests and demands for robust action from Kabul and Washington, successive governments in Islamabad have remained unmoved.

Clearly, with the exception of our frontier with India, our other borders remain wide open, crossed at will by jihadis, smugglers and common villagers. In part, this is a legacy of centuries of seasonal migrations, pilgrimages and local trade. I

n our Northwest, the Durand Line, an arbitrary border dividing Afghanistan from British India sketched by a civil servant in 1892, has never been recognised by any government in Kabul.

Whatever the legal rights and wrongs of the matter, the fact is that this border divides Pakhtun tribes who continue to ignore it. This lack of legitimacy and acceptance is reinforced by the daily crossings of tribesmen, and exploited by smugglers and jihadis alike. Kidnap victims from Karachi are driven across into Afghanistan, and militants on both sides come and go as they please.

Given the porous nature of this border, and the fact that the Pakistani state exercises virtually no control over the region, claims of sovereignty are difficult to sustain. When Arab and Central Asian militants join hands with local Taliban to slaughter thousands of Pakistanis, it is difficult to convincingly protest against drone attacks that target terrorists, and unfortunately occasionally kill civilians.

As a result of this lack of control over our territory and its resultant colonisation by jihadis from across the world, Pakistan has become a magnet for extremist Muslim radicals. Understandably, we are now seen as the epicentre of the global jihad. Afghanistan, in particular, bears the brunt of this lawlessness along its border with Pakistan.

Although the Iran-Pakistan border is relatively well marked, it is not effectively patrolled on our side. As a result, smugglers have operated freely between the two countries. The recent tragedy that saw dozens killed when smuggled Iranian petrol caught fire in a road accident underlines the extent of the illegal cross-border trade.

Extreme Sunni groups exploit this open border to launch operations in Iran, and retreat into Pakistan. A couple of years ago, an investigative report exposed the nexus between the CIA and Jundullah, an anti-Iran group operating from Pakistani Balochistan.

This kind of seemingly state-approved activity understandably infuriates Iran. The Iranians deal ruthlessly with any terrorists they capture, and cannot understand why Pakistan seems to turn a blind eye to their activities if it is not tacitly supporting them.

The rest of the world takes a similar view: if Pakistan chooses not to act against militants on its soil, then it must be complicit. Personally, I ascribe this lethargy and inaction more to incompetence than complicity, but this is probably a minority view. Nevertheless, when a state is unable or unwilling to exercise control over its territory, then it loses the claim to sovereignty.

For many years now, the state has gradually lost its writ over much of Pakistan, with the wild areas along our western borders spinning almost completely out of control. Understandably, our neighbours are losing patience with this state of affairs.