Stock Market Investors: Sad One Day, Jubilant the Next

The Pakistan Stock Exchange (PSX) continues to mirror the country’s volatility — euphoric one day, anxious the next. Despite its recent upward trajectory, warnings of a potential correction were largely ignored. When the inevitable dips arrived, they rattled investors, particularly amid heavy selling by mutual funds.

The start of the week was a rollercoaster. On Monday, the benchmark index plunged by 4,600 points as rising border tensions with Afghanistan, political instability in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, and violent protests in Punjab weighed heavily on sentiment. Yet, within 24 hours, the market staged an extraordinary rebound — gaining nearly 7,000 points on Tuesday and recovering most of its earlier losses.

According to Yousuf M. Farooq, Director of Research at Chase Securities, the rebound was driven by an overnight easing of domestic unrest and improving signals on the Afghanistan front. His observation underscores how sentiment-driven and headline-sensitive the market remains, reacting more to news flow than to fundamentals.

Analysts agree that valuations still look attractive, with several sectors trading below their intrinsic worth. However, they also caution that risks persist. Any slippage on the current account or fiscal front could quickly reverse the recent gains. The macroeconomic environment remains fragile, and the market’s wild swings are a reminder that stability in the PSX cannot be achieved without stability in policy and politics alike.

In short, the stock market’s mood swings are less about numbers and more about nerves. Until investors see a consistent policy direction and improved economic fundamentals, the PSX will continue to oscillate — keeping investors, as always, sad one day and jubilant the next.

Gold Producers Mine, Speculators Shine

Gold’s shine now comes not from the mines but from trading screens. Speculators have turned the world’s oldest store of value into its newest illusion. When this paper empire collapses, even the glitter may not be enough to hide the dust.

Gold has long stood as the ultimate symbol of stability and value. But in today’s financialized world, even this ancient asset has been corrupted by speculation. Its price is no longer shaped by miners or jewelers, but by traders and investment funds sitting in New York and London.

Through paper-based instruments — futures, derivatives, and exchange-traded funds — the real gold market has been replaced by a digital mirage.

The volume of “paper gold” traded daily now exceeds the physical supply many times over. Most of these trades never result in delivery; these are mere wagers on price movements, structured to enrich financial institutions that thrive on volatility. Yet it is these speculative markets that set the global benchmark, dictating prices for producers who dig real gold out of the earth.

When prices rise, consumers are blamed for hoarding; when they fall, producers are accused of oversupply. The truth is far simpler — and more sinister. Speculators, hedge funds, and bullion banks create artificial swings to profit from chaos.

This is not a free market; it is financial exploitation disguised as efficiency. The nations that mine gold, particularly in Africa, Asia, and Latin America, remain economically captive to benchmarks manipulated in the West.

This distortion mirrors what has already happened in the oil trade. Real producers carry the burden; paper traders pocket the rewards. Unless gold pricing returns to physical delivery and transparent regional exchanges, the world risks another systemic shock — one that could undermine confidence not only in gold, but in the global financial order itself.

Gold’s value lies in its physical reality — in what can be touched, stored, and trusted. Once that link is broken, even the world’s most trusted metal becomes just another speculative bubble. And when it bursts, the glitter will fade — leaving behind nothing but dust.

 

Pakistan-IMF: Partnership Built on Dependence

In my recent reflections on Pakistan’s economic dilemmas, one truth stands out — our relationship with the IMF has never been economic, it has always been political. What began as assistance for growth soon turned into a calculated trap of dependency. The IMF didn’t reform Pakistan’s economy; it reprogrammed its sovereignty.

Pakistan’s long association with the IMF has never truly been about stability; it has been about control. What started in the name of “support” evolved into a vicious cycle of borrowing, serving both foreign powers and the ruling elite at home.

During the Cold War, IMF lending was less about economics and more about strategy. Pakistan’s geography made it a convenient pawn in Washington’s global game of containment. Loans came with neatly crafted “conditionalities,” but the real aim was to keep Pakistan’s economy tethered to Western influence.

The much-advertised structural reforms were cosmetic. Land reforms never touched the feudal elite, tax reforms spared the powerful, and privatization transferred wealth to cronies. Instead of fostering industrial growth, policies promoted consumer industries — assembling fast-moving consumer goods rather than producing capital or export goods. The result: an illusion of progress built on imports and consumption.

With every bailout, the dependency mindset grew stronger. The IMF was always available, and policymakers were always willing. A belief took root — that salvation lies in foreign help, not self-reliance.

After the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in the late 1970s, Pakistan was declared a “frontline ally.” The US poured in funds and influence, effectively turning Pakistan’s economy into a Cold War instrument. IMF support neatly aligned with Washington’s geopolitical interests, ensuring compliance rather than reform.

Over the decades, this external control merged with internal manipulation. Regime changes — military or civilian — often bore foreign fingerprints. Today, the IMF stands not as a partner in reform but as a symbol of economic subservience — proof that Pakistan’s journey from aid to autonomy remains unfinished.

Trump and world leaders sign Gaza peace accord

According to the media reports, US President Donald Trump joined more than 20 world leaders in Sharm El-Sheikh on Monday for high level talks on Gaza’s future as the first phase of the Israel-Hamas ceasefire agreement took effect. The exact contents of the agreement have not yet been made public by the White House.

Noticeably absent from the signing ceremony and discussions in Egypt were representatives of Israel and Hamas, whose ceasefire—brokered by the United States—formally began last week after two years of war in Gaza.

Among those attending the Gaza Peace Summit were Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas, French President Emmanuel Macron, German Chancellor Friedrich Merz, British Prime Minister Keir Starmer, Qatari Emir Shiekh Tamim bin Hamad, Turkish President Erdogan, former British Prime Minister Tony Blair, and senior officials from Saudi Arabia, Jordan, and the United Arab Emirates.

The leaders posed for a group photo in front of a backdrop reading “Peace 2025” before a formal signing ceremony tied to the ceasefire deal.

Trump, Egyptian President Abdel Fattah el-Sissi, Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, and Qatari Emir Sheikh Tamim bin Hamad Al Thani signed the document on behalf of the participating nations, with world leaders seated behind them.

“This took 3,000 years to get to this point. Can you believe it? And it’s going to hold up too. It’s going to hold up,” Trump said as he signed the document.

In his remarks, Trump called the signing “a turning point for the region,” describing it as the culmination of months of diplomacy.

“This is the day that people across this region and around the world have been working, striving, hoping, and praying for,” he said.

“With the historic agreement we have just signed, those prayers of millions have finally been answered.”

 

Trump’s Knesset Speech: A Performance of Power and Paradox

US President, Donald Trump’s much-anticipated address to the Israeli Knesset was as dramatic as expected — part peace declaration, part political theatre. He declared the Gaza war “over,” calling it the “historic dawn of a new Middle East.” Yet beneath the triumphal tone lay a familiar Trumpian paradox - big claims, limited substance, and a heavy dose of personal politics.

Trump’s first major announcement — declaring the Gaza conflict “a painful nightmare finally over” — aimed to project him as the peacemaker who ended a bloody chapter. But the reality on the ground tells a murkier story: Gaza remains shattered, its future uncertain, and Israel’s hold over its security unresolved.

For all his talk of peace, Trump’s narrative was built more on optics than on outcomes.

In one of the most controversial moments, he called on Israel’s president to pardon Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, dismissing his corruption charges as “trivial.” That plea blurred the line between diplomacy and political favoritism. It was a gesture that played well to Netanyahu’s loyalists but jarred with those who still value judicial independence.

Equally striking was Trump’s unexpected olive branch to Iran. Saying the US was ready for a deal “when Tehran is,” he tried to reposition himself as the only leader capable of balancing hostility with negotiation. Yet the statement raised eyebrows — could Trump really reconcile his pro-Israel stance with outreach to Iran, a country that views Israel as its sworn enemy?

He also insisted Gaza must be “completely demilitarized” and that Israel’s security “will never be compromised.” The phrasing underscored his alignment with Israel’s long-standing narrative: security first, sovereignty later.

In the end, Trump’s Knesset speech was less about the Middle East and more about reclaiming his image as the global dealmaker.

It blended symbolism with self-promotion, leaving unanswered whether his “new dawn” will bring genuine peace or simply another round of political grandstanding.

Why Trump Took So Long to End Israeli Killing in Gaza?

As Gaza bled, Washington watched. For weeks, bombs rained on civilians while the so-called champion of “peace through strength” stayed silent. Donald Trump, quick to boast of brokering deals, turned hesitant when the cost of morality threatened his politics. His long silence over Israel’s brutality was not confusion — it was complicity.

Trump’s trademark swagger vanished when Gaza burned. The self-proclaimed deal-maker watched from the sidelines as Israel’s relentless bombing turned a crowded strip into a graveyard. His hesitation wasn’t diplomacy — it was political calculation dressed as caution.

He delayed action because he feared offending the Israel lobby and evangelical base that bankroll and bolster his politics. Their loyalty mattered more than the lives lost under Israeli bombs.

Washington’s silence was not indecision; it was endorsement. By refusing to restrain Tel Aviv, Trump aligned moral blindness with political convenience.

Behind the scenes, his advisers argued that Israel remains America’s indispensable proxy in the Middle East, and any pressure might embolden Iran or upset Gulf partners.

In truth, Trump was unwilling to challenge a policy that defines US dominance in the region — where stability is measured by arms sales, not peace. Gaza’s children simply did not fit into that equation.

But the cost of silence mounted fast. The world watched in horror, and even US allies began questioning Washington’s humanity.

When images of famine and flattened hospitals flooded global screens, Trump finally called for restraint — a gesture too late to cleanse the blood on American hands.

His eventual push for ceasefire wasn’t moral awakening; it was damage control. The U.S. was losing global credibility, and Trump’s “America First” mantra was turning into “Morality Last.”

For all his talk of strength, Trump blinked when leadership demanded courage. Gaza will remain the chapter where his silence spoke louder than his slogans.

Pakistani Policies Turning Taliban Foe

The unraveling Pakistan–Taliban relationship highlights the limits of old security doctrines in a changing regional order.

When the Taliban returned to power in Kabul in 2021, Pakistan hoped for a friendly neighbor and a stable frontier. Four years later, that optimism has faded. Relations have soured, trust has eroded, and the Taliban’s growing warmth toward India signals how far Islamabad’s Afghan policy has drifted from reality.

Pakistan’s once-comfortable relationship with the Taliban is deteriorating — not because of ideology, but because of Islamabad’s own policy. What was once hailed as “strategic depth” is now fast becoming a strategic setback.

For decades, Pakistan believed that supporting the Taliban would ensure border security and limit Indian influence. But since the group’s return to power, those assumptions have collapsed.

Instead of cooperation, Pakistan now faces increasing hostility - frequent border clashes, defiant statements from Kabul, and a resurgent Tehrik-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) operating from Afghan soil.

The Taliban’s visible tilt toward India is a symptom of Islamabad’s stance. Pakistan has chosen pressure over diplomacy — closing key crossings, threatening to expel Afghan refugees, and publicly accusing Kabul of harboring militants.

These measures have not subdued the Taliban; they have driven them closer to New Delhi, which offers humanitarian aid and political legitimacy without direct interference.

The irony is stark. Pakistan, once the Taliban’s strongest backer, now finds itself isolated, while India — long regarded as an adversary in Afghan affairs — is quietly re-establishing presence in Kabul. The Taliban, in turn, are using this outreach to project independence and resist external dictates.

Islamabad’s Afghan policy remains trapped in outdated security thinking, viewing Kabul solely through the prism of control.

Unless Pakistan recalibrates its approach — replacing coercion with constructive engagement — it risks losing whatever influence it still retains. The “strategic depth” doctrine that once shaped policy has now turned dangerously shallow.