At a recent one-sided international conference focused on the now-defunct Indus Waters Treaty in Islamabad, Pakistan’s Information and Broadcasting Minister Attaullah Tarar made a notable declaration. He stated that he proudly tells people abroad that Pakistanis are the “children of Indus Valley Civilisation”. However, this public display of pride contrasts sharply with the reality on the ground, mirroring the country's regular claims regarding the absence of safe havens for terrorists within its borders.

The gap between rhetoric and reality became undeniable when the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organisation (UNESCO) officially called out the state for severely damaging the historical integrity of two crucial Vedic-era locations situated within the ancient region of Taxila, also known historically as Takshashila.

Global Body Threatens Heritage List Removal After Cement Applied to Preserve Ancient Vedic Sites in Taxila

The international cultural watchdog, UNESCO, has issued a formal warning to Islamabad, demanding the immediate reversal of modern alterations labeled as “reconstructions” and other “unnecessary interventions” at key archaeological areas. Specifically, the damage was done at Mohra Moradu—a Buddhist monastery and stupa complex dating back to the Kushan empire—and Sirkap, the historic Indo-Greek urban layer. Both properties are situated within the broader Taxila archaeological network inside the Rawalpindi district of modern-day Pakistan. These structures are recognized globally as official World Heritage Sites, representing a monumental post-Indus Valley Civilisation epoch that spanned from roughly the 2nd century BCE to the 5th century CE.

For a long time, the Islamic Republic of Pakistan, dealing with deep questions of cultural identity, pushed aside its rich pre-Islamic history. This heritage, which is fundamentally rooted in Hindu and Buddhist traditions, was dismissed in state narratives as an age of “Jahiliyyah”, a term denoting an era of spiritual darkness. According to this perspective, historical redemption for the land was only achieved when Islam arrived via the military campaigns of Mohammad Bin Qasim in the 8th century.

Yet, in recent times, the state changed its approach. It began aggressively highlighting Taxila through state-run museum displays, cultural heritage programs, and international tourism drives. This shift was designed to draw in foreign travelers and financial capital. It formed part of a larger geopolitical strategy to claim the legacy of the Indus Valley Civilisation and its early Hindu history, while simultaneously diluting or completely removing any overt references to its original Hindu character.

This urgent push to profit from the physical remnants of an ancient Indian past located within its current borders lacks the baseline sensitivity required to care for delicate historical environments. The consequences of this approach became clear when Pakistan’s Department of Archaeology and Museums applied modern cement and contemporary masonry to the ancient walls of Mohra Moradu and Sirkap as part of a state-sponsored “conservation” program. UNESCO explicitly identified these actions as a direct violation of international conservation standards, noting that the use of modern materials permanently compromised the authenticity and structural truth of these Vedic-era locations.

Following these findings, UNESCO officials held an urgent meeting with high-ranking Pakistani government administrators. The global agency delivered a clear ultimatum: if these modern interventions are not completely undone and proper scientific preservation steps are not established, Taxila will be demoted to the UN body's official List of World Heritage in Danger. To underscore the severity of this warning, UNESCO representatives reminded the Pakistani delegation that the organization had previously stripped a prominent site in Germany of its World Heritage status due to similarly flawed preservation practices.

The conservation scandal originally came to light in March of this year. A vigilant visitor photographed and recorded the ongoing work, sending the visual evidence directly to Pakistan’s Permanent Delegate to UNESCO in Paris. The records clearly revealed that authentic, centuries-old walls were being systematically replaced with modern brickwork and masonry, and their heights were being altered during the state's “conservation” campaign. Recognizing the gravity of the report, UNESCO launched an investigation. On June 12th, a joint technical team consisting of international experts, representatives from Pakistan's Department of Archaeology and Museums, and officials from the Ministry of National Heritage and Culture conducted a comprehensive physical inspection of the Taxila Museum and its surrounding ruins.

The Contradictions of Heritage Preservation and Historical Memory

The layered ancient city of Takshashila holds a foundational position in the history of the Indian subcontinent. The metropolis is deeply woven into ancient Vedic literature, the epic Mahabharat, and the Buddhist Jataka tales, celebrated as a premier global center of higher learning. Over the centuries, Taxila grew into a vibrant heartland for Gandharan Buddhist culture, unique Greco-Buddhist art traditions, and the home of one of the earliest and most influential universities in human history.

Historical Timeline of Cultural Impacts & Preservation Issues
│
├── 2nd Century BCE – 5th Century CE: Flowering of Taxila, Sirkap, and Mohra Moradu
├── 8th Century CE: Islamic conquest of Sindh by Muhammad bin Qasim
├── 1960: Signing of the Indus Waters Treaty
├── 1977–1987: Gen. Zia-ul-Haq overrides school curricula to assert Arab ancestry
├── October 2009: Taliban forces detonate explosives on the 7th-century Swat Buddha
├── 2023: Demolition of Hinglaj Mata Mandir and Sharda Peeth Mandir
├── April 2025: Pahalgam terror attack leads India to halt the Indus Waters Treaty
└── March – June 2026: Concrete conservation scandal exposed; UNESCO issues delisting warning

Despite trying to rebrand these Gandharan and Indus Valley ruins as “ancient Pakistan” in its official state marketing, the 78-year-old Islamic Republic has historically neglected the region's deep archaeological roots. From major Indus Valley hubs like Mohenjo-daro and Harappa to the Buddhist remnants in the Swat Valley, successive administrations have consistently failed to fund or enforce proper preservation protocols. Neither hardline military rulers nor military-influenced civilian governments prioritized the protection of pre-Islamic antiquity. While claims of severe budget limitations and scarce resources were regularly used to excuse the decay of ancient indigenous sites, no such financial hurdles ever blocked the well-funded maintenance and restoration of Islamic religious monuments.

This structural neglect has frequently manifested as open hostility. In October 2009, local Taliban militants—operating within areas controlled by the Pakistani security apparatus—targeted a majestic 7th-century CE rock-carved Buddha statue in the Swat Valley, along with several Kushan-era stupas. The attackers systematically drilled deep holes into the face, shoulders, and feet of the historic Buddha sculpture, filled the cavities with heavy explosives, and blew them up. The blast entirely destroyed the upper body and face of the monument, deliberately copying the infamous 2001 destruction of the Bamiyan Buddhas by the Taliban in Afghanistan.

Beyond ideological destruction, local networks have regularly pillaged Buddhist historical sites across the Swat Valley, conducting illegal excavations to feed a lucrative black-market trade in stolen antiquities. Over multiple generations, the domestic population—descended from ancestors who converted to Islam from Hinduism, Sikhism, and Buddhism—has been taught to see no cultural value in these ancient sites. This alienation has cleared the way for widespread public encroachment on protected lands.

Supported by the quiet compliance of local administrative bodies, historical properties belonging to minority communities have faced persistent destruction. Countless pre-partition Hindu temples have been leveled, and a 125-year-old historic Gurudwara was recently torn down in Farooqabad, Punjab. Furthermore, in 2023, the state systematically demolished the ancient Hinglaj Mata Mandir in the Sindh province. This was followed by the destruction of the Sharda Peeth Mandir, a sacred Hindu academy and shrine located directly along the Line of Control (LoC). The historic temple held recognized cultural value, but that international standing failed to save it from targeted destruction.

Domestic Pressures and Strategic Rebranding

This situation exposes a deep internal contradiction. While the state tries to present itself externally as a modern “civilisational state” and claims its public officials are the true “custodians” of ancient history, internal military leaders pull the narrative in the opposite direction. Field Marshal Asim Munir frequently reminds the public that Pakistani Muslims remain completely distinct from Hindus in every facet of life, emphasizing the continued relevance of the original, separatist two-nation theory.

Regardless of whether the nation has been governed directly by military generals or through civilian political figures, the country has experienced a steady tightening of state-enforced Islamization. For decades, the dominant cultural narrative sought to sever ties with the Indian subcontinent by claiming direct lineage from Arab, Turkish, Persian, or Central Asian elites—a social phenomenon known locally as the “Ashraf” narrative of “pure”_ foreign Muslim ancestry.

This systematic rewriting of history reached its peak during the decade-long military dictatorship of General Zia-ul-Haq, which began in 1977. The Zia administration fundamentally altered national school textbooks for both Islamic Studies and Pakistan Studies. The updated curriculum was designed to enforce a strict pan-Islamic identity, forcing a psychological alignment with Middle Eastern history while deliberately erasing the pre-Islamic ancestral realities of a population whose actual DNA traces directly back to indigenous Hindus.

For over seven decades, national educational systems, political speeches, state media, and the domestic entertainment industry combined to tell the public that they belonged exclusively to foreign “warrior races”. This left the citizenry exactly one genetic test away from discovering an “unsettling” reality. Meanwhile, textbooks continue to teach the 8th-century invasion of Sindh by Muhammad bin Qasim as the glorious beginning of the national story.

This dual identity creates bizarre contradictions in state policy. While cultural bodies try to claim ancient intellectual figures and regional rulers like Pāṇini, Chanakya, and Raja Purushottama as historical citizens of an early Pakistan, the defense establishment names its nuclear-capable ballistic missiles after invading Islamic figures like Ghaznavi, Ghori, and Abdali. For generations, religious leaders and politicians actively banned traditional regional attire like Sarees and Bindis, labeling them as unacceptable “Hinduana” influences.

Today, the state balance remains fragile. The government keeps the domestic space strictly Islamized to prevent pushback from religious hardliners in a society where everyday digital QR-codes can spark a sudden “blasphemy” riot. At the same time, it tries to present a welcoming face to the West by claiming an ancient heritage it historically rejected. This occurs in a country that legally discriminates against its own Ahmadiyya Muslim population for not meeting orthodox religious standards, while its remaining Hindu minorities face systemic marginalization, forced conversions, and extreme social vulnerability.

The Geopolitical Strategy Behind the Indus Narrative

Regional observers view this sudden embrace of ancient history as a transactional strategy. Harappa and Mohenjo-daro are no longer treated merely as archaeological sites; they are deployed as active diplomatic leverage and economic tools. Facing severe financial strain, Islamabad uses these sites to secure vital funding from UNESCO and leverage international cultural diplomacy to alter its global reputation as a hub for state-sponsored terror. By opening its doors to foreign heritage preservation initiatives—such as the United Kingdom’s Cultural Protection Fund—the state seeks to secure Western endorsement for its claim as the primary heir to the Indus Valley Civilisation. This claim persists despite the reality that roughly 60 percent of all verified Indus Valley archaeological sites are located within the sovereign borders of modern India.

This campaign is designed to weaken India’s historical claim to its ancient identity while trying to secure the prestigious “civilisational state” label for itself. This strategy has been supported by coordinated state-backed internet campaigns and digital bots connected to the Inter-Services Public Relations (ISPR) wing. These digital assets actively promote a manufactured historical rivalry, contrasting the Indus Valley Civilisation against the Indo-Gangetic Civilisation to turn ancient archaeological boundaries into modern political borders.

These maneuvers are tied directly to current water conflicts involving the Indus Waters Treaty. This cross-border water-sharing framework, originally signed in 1960, was officially put on hold by New Delhi following a major security breach in April 2025, when Pakistan-sponsored militants carried out a deadly Islamic terror attack in Pahalgam.

The Indus River system remains the agricultural and economic lifeline of the nation. With New Delhi refusing to back down in the face of nuclear posturing or appeals to international arbitration bodies, Islamabad has shifted its focus to a global narrative campaign. The state has intentionally moved away from its traditional narrative of “we are full Turkish, Arab blood” to a new public stance declaring “we are children of Indus”.

This sudden shift serves as a deliberate diplomatic pressure tactic. By trying to convince the international community that its national identity is uniquely tied to the Indus River, the state hopes to build a sympathetic global argument. The intended narrative suggests that because the ancient Indus Valley Civilisation is an exclusively regional heritage, any move by India to alter or restrict the flow of these river systems constitutes a moral and legal violation of their historic birthright. Yet, the ongoing structural neglect and careless use of industrial cement on the ancient walls of Taxila reveal that the state's sudden love for its pre-Islamic past is dictated entirely by modern political utility rather than genuine cultural preservation.