The recent killing of 18 members of one Taliban faction by a rival extremist group in Pakistan’s Central Kurram region is more than just another episode of violence in an already volatile landscape.
According to local reports, the victims were invited under the pretext of a communal gathering before being executed by members of a rival faction.
The incident lays bare a truth that governments, analysts and affected communities have long understood: violent extremist groups are not bound by ideology, morality or even loyalty to their own ranks. Their real currency is power, fear, territory, money and survival.
For years, these groups have attempted to cloak themselves in religious rhetoric, presenting their violence as part of a larger ideological or theological struggle.
Yet their own conduct repeatedly exposes the contradiction between their claims and their actions. Organisations that publicly speak of “faith,” “honour,” or “justice” often turn their guns on one another the moment disputes emerge over resources, influence, extortion networks or operational control.
The killings in Kurram are not an isolated event. The history of extremist movements across the region is filled with fragmentation, rebellion, accusations of apostasy and brutal internal purges.
Rival commanders frequently accuse one another of betrayal, disloyalty or ideological deviation, only to engage in violent feuds that leave dozens dead. These divisions reveal that such factions are often less interested in religious principles than in maintaining dominance through intimidation and violence.
The revenge announcement by Jamaat-ul-Ahrar against the Kazim group highlights the deep fragmentation within militant networks, where alliances are temporary, and violence between factions is increasingly common.”
These groups are not only a threat to the state and the public; they have increasingly become a threat to one another.
Their alliances remain temporary and transactional, surviving only as long as mutual interests align. Once disputes emerge over weapons, finances, territory or authority, those alliances collapse into violence.
What is often overlooked internationally is that the primary victims of these extremist networks are overwhelmingly Muslim civilians themselves.
Tribal elders, religious scholars, teachers, labourers, health workers, market vendors and security personnel have all been targeted over the years. Mosques, schools and crowded public places have repeatedly turned into scenes of carnage.
The exploitation of religion remains central to the survival strategy of these organisations. By weaponising faith and emotional narratives, they recruit vulnerable young men through promises of glory, martyrdom or divine purpose.t
In reality, however, the leadership structures of such groups are frequently driven by personal ambition, access to weapons, financial gain and external agendas rather than genuine religious scholarship or public welfare.
The contradiction becomes impossible to ignore when militants begin deceiving and killing their own associates.
A movement that murders its own members under the guise of hospitality cannot credibly claim to represent morality, Islam or justice. Such actions expose the deeply criminal and opportunistic nature of extremist violence.
This is why the struggle against violent extremism cannot be understood purely through a military lens.
It is also an ideological, social and educational challenge. Countering these groups requires exposing the gap between their rhetoric and their reality.
Communities must understand that these organisations do not defend religion or society; they destabilise both. Their actions spread fear, weaken social cohesion, destroy local economies and leave lasting trauma across generations.
Pakistan has paid a devastating price in its fight against militancy over the past two decades. Thousands of civilians and security personnel have lost their lives.
Entire communities have endured displacement, insecurity and economic hardship. Incidents like the one in Central Kurram serve as a reminder that extremist violence eventually consumes even those who once believed they were part of the same cause.
Ultimately, the internal bloodshed among militant factions reveals a fundamental reality: these groups are not united by principle, but by temporary convenience.
Beneath the slogans and propaganda lies a ruthless struggle for control in which betrayal, coercion and violence are routine tools.
The world should recognise these factions for what they truly are — not defenders of faith or ideology, but enemies of peace, stability, religion and humanity itself.
