Israel launched an unprovoked and calculated strike deep into Iranian territory on the night of 13th June, killing several senior military commanders and nuclear scientists, along with scores of ordinary civilians. The world watched with bated breath to see how Tehran would respond. For several hours, what looked like bluster on social media concealed the storm that was quietly being prepared. As dawn approached, the myth of Israel’s invincibility was about to be shattered. When Iran finally responded, it did so with overwhelming force: a carefully sequenced barrage of missiles and drones that pierced Israel’s vaunted air defences and exposed its strategic vulnerabilities.
Iran’s response was not immediate, but when it came, it was devastating. Within hours, waves of missiles and drones began inundating Israel’s multilayered defence systems. The first wave consisted of relatively cheap, expendable missiles and drones whose primary purpose was saturation. Their job was to deplete Israel’s stock of interceptors — Iron Dome, David’s Sling, and Arrow systems — all of which rely on a finite and expensive inventory of anti-missile munitions. Once these interceptors had been significantly exhausted, the real game began.
A second wave followed, this time comprising Iran’s more advanced ballistic and cruise missiles. These targeted highly sensitive strategic military installations, some located deep within Israeli territory. There was almost no mainstream media coverage, but according to reliable regional sources and independent analysis, some of these strikes had knock-on effects on civilian infrastructure. In Be’er Sheva, for example, the Soroka Medical Centre reportedly suffered collateral damage, as an Iranian missile targeted a high-value military and intelligence installation located within the neighbouring Gav‑Yam technology park. In a conflict marked by information warfare and deliberate opacity, such incidents reveal the hidden costs of escalation, especially when military assets are embedded in or near civilian zones.
The psychological impact of the Iranian retaliation was enormous. Israel’s image as an untouchable fortress, a perception carefully cultivated over decades, was punctured. Iran had shown that not only could it absorb a preemptive strike, it could also retaliate with enough volume, range, and precision to overwhelm the most sophisticated missile defence architecture in the world. While Israel’s systems performed impressively in percentage terms, their inability to fully shield the country from hundreds of simultaneous attacks was a reality check. The myth of total protection was exposed as just that, a myth.
As the salvos continued, Israel’s desperation became evident. Despite its formidable capabilities, it was unable to neutralise the scale of Iran’s response without external help. The country lacked strategic depth, and every strike brought the war closer to the heart of its population centres. Realising the limits of its endurance, Tel Aviv turned to Western capitals for rescue. US President Donald Trump obliged by deploying B‑2 stealth bombers from Whiteman Air Force Base in Missouri, which flew a non-stop global strike mission to hit Iran’s nuclear facilities at Fordow, Natanz, and Isfahan with 30,000‑lb bunker-buster bombs.
In response to the US airstrike on its nuclear facilities, Iran launched a medium-range ballistic missile toward the Al Udeid Air Base in Qatar, home to US Central Command. Though intercepted before impact and causing no casualties, the strike served as a calibrated warning. The message was received. A regional ceasefire, brokered through backchannel diplomacy involving Gulf states and European intermediaries, followed swiftly, reflecting a shared understanding that continued escalation risked a broader regional war with incalculable consequences.
The war may have paused, but the illusion that Israel can strike without consequence is over.
Markets reacted swiftly. Tech investors, long the backbone of Israel’s innovation economy, began reassessing their risk exposure. Insurance costs for infrastructure and logistics spiked. Civil defence protocols were activated across major cities, disrupting normal life and contributing to a national mood of anxiety not felt since the Gulf War or the 2006 Lebanon conflict. It was not just the physical damage that mattered; it was the shift in perception. Israel had initiated a conflict expecting a decisive advantage, but ended up absorbing blows that challenged its deterrent credibility.
Pakistan’s stance was notably restrained yet principled. The Foreign Office condemned the Israeli strikes as a violation of international law and affirmed Iran’s right to self-defence under the UN Charter and the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty. At the same time, Islamabad denied rumours, circulated by some Iranian media outlets, that Pakistan had pledged nuclear support or warned Israel of consequences. Instead, Pakistani authorities focused on stabilising the situation along the Iran-Pakistan border, especially in Balochistan, where smuggling routes, refugee flows, and militant infiltration threatened to spill over. Joint coordination mechanisms were reactivated, and backchannel contacts between Islamabad and Tehran intensified to prevent any local escalation.
This careful posture reflects Pakistan’s broader diplomatic calculus: reaffirm solidarity with Muslim countries in the face of aggression while avoiding any action that could entangle the country in a wider regional war. Islamabad also discreetly engaged in diplomatic outreach with Gulf allies and multilateral forums, hoping to contain the fallout through backdoor mediation. This understated role, often overlooked in international coverage, underscored Pakistan’s preference for de-escalation and regional stability over rhetorical brinkmanship.
Two days after Israel’s attack, Chief of Army Staff Field Marshal Asim Munir arrived in Washington primarily to engage with US military leaders on regional security and the India-Pakistan situation. However, amid the unfolding Iran-Israel conflict, American officials, aware of Pakistan’s longstanding ties with Iran, sought his perspective on the crisis as well. President Trump acknowledged Pakistan’s deep understanding of Iranian strategic thinking, and Field Marshal Munir’s counsel was seen as a valuable input in Washington’s internal deliberations during the critical days of escalation.
Iran, long considered vulnerable and on the defensive, has emerged as a credible retaliatory force capable of inflicting real damage.
Regionally, the conflict sent shockwaves through Arab capitals. The Gulf monarchies, particularly the UAE and Saudi Arabia, have long banked on Israeli air superiority as a de facto shield against Iran’s missile arsenal. But after 13 June, they began recalibrating their assumptions. Analysts report that confidential meetings in Abu Dhabi and Riyadh have explored joint defence procurement, new missile interceptor systems, and expanded American defence guarantees. The calculus is simple: if Israel’s defences can be overwhelmed, no one is fully protected.
Meanwhile, the economic and strategic impact on Iran itself cannot be ignored. The initial Israeli strike dealt a significant blow to Tehran’s military leadership and nuclear infrastructure. But by absorbing the damage and responding with calibrated force, Iran reasserted its deterrence and political legitimacy at home. The state-controlled media framed the response as a historic moment, the first time a Muslim nation had retaliated against Israel with such depth and audacity. Still, Tehran remains under pressure: rebuilding damaged facilities, managing international fallout, and avoiding further escalation that could invite US intervention.
The US bombing of Iran’s nuclear facilities caused significant damage, disrupting uranium enrichment activities and damaging key infrastructure. In response, Iran formally withdrew from the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT) through a parliamentary vote and suspended all International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) inspections. Officials in Tehran argued that the attacks had rendered international oversight meaningless. The move raised concerns among global non-proliferation advocates, with some suggesting that the effort to contain Iran’s nuclear programme may have undermined the very framework that once helped regulate it.
The war, for now, appears to be in a tenuous pause. But there is little doubt that both Israel and Iran are preparing for the next round. Iran is rebuilding its missile infrastructure, likely experimenting with new launch platforms and increasing the survivability of its systems. Israel, meanwhile, is rapidly replenishing its interceptor stockpiles and may well be planning a second strike to reassert dominance.
This episode has changed the rules of the game. Israel remains a formidable military power, but no longer an invincible one. Iran, long considered vulnerable and on the defensive, has emerged as a credible retaliatory force capable of inflicting real damage. Pakistan, navigating its complex geopolitical terrain, has opted for balance and stability over provocation. And the region, still reeling from the aftershocks, braces for what may come next.
Although a fragile ceasefire is now in place, both sides remain on high alert, and the possibility of renewed confrontation looms large. The war may have paused, but the illusion that Israel can strike without consequence is over.
