By Sqn. Ldr. Nusrat Hussain(Retd)
In the latest development surrounding the T20 World Cup, the Pakistani government—through an official statement on X (formerly Twitter)—has permitted the national cricket team to participate in the tournament, while simultaneously announcing a boycott of the match against India. No reason was furnished in the statement.
It is widely expected, however, that the government will later justify this decision by citing alleged Indian sponsorship of recent terrorist attacks across approximately sixteen cities in Balochistan. These attacks resulted in the deaths of several security personnel, while Pakistani forces reportedly neutralized around 150 militants involved. From Pakistan’s perspective, this rationale may serve as the most “reasonably reasonable” way to exit the India fixture while minimizing exposure to legal, financial, or administrative sanctions from the ICC.
The fact remains that Pakistan had been posturing towards such a stance even earlier, when Bangladesh was effectively removed from the tournament framework. At that point, however, there was no reasonably defensible basis for a boycott. Bangladesh’s exclusion came through a majority decision—14 votes out of the 16 members of ICC’s Board of Directors—with only Pakistan and Bangladesh voting against it. With no direct provocation or principled justification, Pakistan had little room to maneuver then.
What complicates matters further is the broader pattern. India has previously introduced similar tactics not only in cricket, but also in diplomatic, financial, and military domains. Operations such as Balakot and Sindoor were launched in response to terrorist incidents in India, without presenting publicly verifiable evidence of Pakistan’s involvement. On both occasions, Pakistan responded forcefully at the military level, reinforcing its position of deterrence and parity.
Yet cricket is not governed by strategic parity—it is governed by money.
An India–Pakistan cricket encounter is watched by billions worldwide and is reported to generate approximately 63 percent of total broadcast revenue earned from matches involving all other countries combined. This revenue—running into billions of dollars—is later distributed among cricket-playing nations. This is the financial engine of modern international cricket.
For this reason alone, a boycott by Pakistan will not be easily digested by the ICC, the BCCI, or other cricketing boards. Someone will have to be held responsible for the loss—and Pakistan is the obvious candidate. Consequences are therefore almost inevitable, whether in the form of financial penalties, reduced hosting rights, or informal restrictions on cricketing activity.
This is the uncomfortable reality of the modern world: it is governed by power. What suits the powerful is declared fair; what challenges them is labeled unreasonable. Three tools of power dominate this system—military strength, financial leverage, and numerical majority disguised as democratic legitimacy. Ethical or moral considerations rarely survive when financial interests are at stake.
This explains why earlier actions—such as Indian players refusing to shake hands with Pakistani players, or declining to receive the Asian Champions Trophy from the President of the Asian Cricket Council—were quietly ignored or conveniently justified. Majority backing and financial clout made them acceptable.
Pakistan’s decision may be morally defensible in its own eyes, even politically inevitable. But in a system driven by money and power, “reasonable reasons” often matter least. The cost to Pakistan cricket is likely to be real—and painful.
