News Desk
ISLAMABAD, — Pakistan’s government is facing renewed scrutiny after footage emerged of Prime Minister’s tourism coordinator, Sardar Yasir Ilyas, shaking hands with Michael Izhar-Kov, Director General of Israel’s Ministry of Tourism, during the World Travel Market in London earlier this month.
The encounter, captured on video and circulated widely on social media, has ignited accusations that Islamabad is quietly softening its stance toward Israel even as it publicly champions the Palestinian cause.
At a weekly press briefing, Foreign Office spokesperson Tahir Hussain Andrabi insisted the ministry had “no information” about the meeting, deflecting responsibility to Ilyas himself. “The gentleman you referred to is a public figure. I would request you to ask him about the meeting,” Andrabi said.
But the denial has done little to quell anger. Former Jamaat-i-Islami senator Mushtaq Ahmed Khan condemned the handshake as “a betrayal of Al-Aqsa, Gaza, and the Palestinians,” while writer Fatima Bhutto described it as “disgusting treason.” PTI leader Shireen Mazari added: “It is not when it happened but how it happened!”
The controversy comes at a moment when the international community has classified Israel’s military campaign in Gaza as genocide, a term that carries legal and moral weight under international law. Yet Pakistan’s official rhetoric has been cautious, often couched in diplomatic language that critics say amounts to sugarcoating.
Adding to the tension, Donald Trump announced his participation in what was going on in Gaza in Israel’s Knesset, a move interpreted by many observers as tacit endorsement of the military operations against Palestinians. For Pakistan, a country that has long positioned itself as a defender of Palestinian rights, the juxtaposition is stark: public condemnation of Israeli annexation efforts, but private gestures that suggest a willingness to engage.
Compounding the contradictions, Pakistan — much like Israel — had previously advocated for Trump to be considered for a Nobel Peace Prize, portraying him as a “champion of peace” during the Sharm el-Sheikh summit attended by the Pakistani Prime Minister. That framing, critics argue, now appears deeply at odds with the international community’s classification of Israel’s Gaza campaign as genocide.
Pakistan’s role in the proposed International Stabilisation Force (ISF)—a US-brokered initiative under the Gaza Peace Agreement—remains undecided. Defence Minister Khawaja Asif previously said deliberations were “in process,” while Andrabi clarified that “no decision has been taken as yet” and that the matter is still under discussion at the UN Security Council.
For critics, this ambiguity underscores Islamabad’s double game: presenting itself as a steadfast supporter of Palestinian sovereignty while leaving open the possibility of military participation in a framework many see as legitimizing Israeli control.
This is not the first time Pakistan has been accused of sending contradictory signals. Just last month, Islamabad joined 14 nations in condemning Tel Aviv’s attempt to impose sovereignty over the West Bank. Days later, the information ministry denied reports that Pakistan had removed the clause in its passports barring travel to Israel.
The government continues to insist it does not recognize Israel and supports a sovereign Palestinian state based on pre-1967 borders, with East Jerusalem as its capital. Yet the London handshake, critics argue, reveals a willingness to normalize contact—however unofficial—with Israeli officials.
When it comes to self-interest, Pakistan has consistently prioritized strategic alliances over moral consistency. The nation, founded by Muhammad Ali Jinnah — a Shia Muslim — yet largely composed of Barelvi Sunni Muslims, has often projected itself as the guardian of Muslim causes abroad. But critics argue that this posture collapses when weighed against Islamabad’s own geopolitical calculus. The most glaring example is Pakistan’s embrace of China as its “iron brother,” even as Beijing faces international condemnation for its treatment of Uyghur Muslims in Xinjiang. Just as with the Palestinian question, Pakistan’s rhetoric of solidarity is undercut by its willingness to mute criticism when national interests — economic, military, or diplomatic — are at stake.
For a country whose identity is deeply tied to Muslim solidarity, the optics of such encounters are perilous. Analysts warn that Pakistan risks alienating domestic constituencies and undermining its credibility in the Muslim world.
As one commentator put it: “You cannot claim to stand with Gaza while shaking hands in London. The contradiction is too glaring.”
