A recent photo shows Pakistan’s army chief meeting Iran’s foreign minister in Tehran, but the story really starts at the White House in June 2025. It’s unusual to see a Pakistani general acting as America’s main diplomatic messenger in such a tense moment. Still, if you’re familiar with Donald Trump’s approach to foreign policy, it adds up. When the stakes are high, Trump skips the usual diplomats and relies on people he trusts. Right now, that’s Asim Munir. To see why, you need to look at both the president and the surprising similarities between the countries he and Munir represent. These similarities also shape how things work in countries with different systems.
Built for Each Other
At first, Pakistan and the United States seem very different. Pakistan is a nuclear-armed developing country with a low GDP per person and a history of IMF bailouts, where the military often holds real power. The US is the world’s largest economy and a long-standing constitutional republic. Yet under their current leaders, both countries now operate in similar ways: institutions are weak or weakening, strong personalities lead, and outcomes depend more on personal connections and deals than on official processes. In Pakistan, this setup has deep roots. The military has always been the real decision-maker. Civilian governments come and go, but the army stays in control. Munir has made this even clearer than most before him, combining military, intelligence, and civilian power so there’s no need to pretend civilians are in charge. In Trump’s Washington, the weakening of institutions is newer but follows a similar path. Pakistani officials quickly noticed: getting access to this White House often means going through Trump’s family businesses as much as through the State Department. Career diplomats, official processes, and congressional oversight still exist, but they matter less. What really counts is your personal relationship with the president and what you can offer him and his inner circle. Both countries have reached the same point, even if they took different paths: power now depends on personal authority, and relationships are built on deals rather than institutions. It’s easy to see why their leaders connect so well.
Gifts Calibrated to the Man
Islamabad saw that in a system based on personal connections, the best way in was through business and praise, not old-style diplomacy. They began their approach early and with care. Their first move was in counterterrorism. Pakistani intelligence helped the US catch a key Islamic State-Khorasan figure behind the 2021 Abbey Gate bombing. This gave Trump a clear win he could claim. It was a gift made for him: a visible success, delivered simply and without strings attached. Next came business offers. World Liberty Financial, a crypto company with strong ties to the Trump family, sent executives to Islamabad, where Pakistan signed an agreement on stablecoin adoption. Munir welcomed the group himself, showing a clear link between Pakistan’s military and Trump-related businesses. This was intentional: Pakistan’s top general was present at a deal involving the US president’s family business. At the same time, Pakistan promoted claims to vast rare-earth mineral reserves, and a US company from Missouri signed an agreement with a military-owned Pakistani firm to develop them. Neither deal is fully confirmed as the minerals haven’t been properly checked, and the crypto agreement isn’t binding. But in a system where excitement and personal ties matter more than careful checks, that’s not important. Making the offer is what builds the relationship. Islamabad made its move, and Washington responded with a warmth not seen in years.
Same Frequency
Munir entered this environment, and Trump treated him as he did certain foreign leaders. Analyst Husain Haqqani put it this way: “Trump likes people who are in charge of their countries, and he likes strongmen. Field Marshal Munir is very much in that category.” But the connection goes beyond mere admiration for a powerful leader. Both men work in systems where rules can be bent, loyalty is personal, and authority rests with one person. Trump finds Munir’s leadership style familiar and easy to relate to. The White House lunch in June 2025 was something new. It was the first time a US president hosted Pakistan’s army chief alone, with no civilian officials there. The moment brought back memories of the Cold War, when American presidents sometimes praised military leaders more than elected ones. Trump called Munir his “favourite field marshal,” a clear reference to Munir’s new title, which only one other Pakistani has ever held. For Trump, the usual line between civilian and military leaders doesn’t matter much. He prefers dealing with a general who acts as head of state, rather than a prime minister who answers to parliament.
The Agility Problem
It’s important to think about what this means for countries with different systems. Large democracies with strong foreign policy teams, oversight committees, professional diplomats, and independent courts are designed to move slowly and carefully. This slow pace is actually a strength: it leads to lasting commitments, thoughtful positions, and policies that outlast any one leader. But in Trump’s style of diplomacy, this careful approach can look like a roadblock. India is the best example in the region. Its foreign policy system, while sometimes quick on certain issues, works through many layers: the Ministry of External Affairs, the National Security Council, parliament, a free press, and a federal setup that limits what leaders can do. Decisions take time, are carefully recorded, and need agreement from many parts of government. This is what gives the system depth. But in Trump’s deal-making world, this depth means you can’t just say yes in a meeting and make it happen. Munir, as Pakistan’s main decision-maker, can move quickly and decisively, something India’s system can’t match. For Trump, who prefers one-on-one deals over group talks, this is a significant difference, shaped by how each country is structured.
Behind Closed Doors.
The Oval Office meeting between Trump and Munir in September 2025 was notable as much for what wasn’t revealed as for what was. Some parts of their conversation happened without any American officials present, and there was no official summary. What we do know is what happened in Pakistan afterwards. In November 2025, Pakistan’s parliament passed the 27th Constitutional Amendment. This move cemented the military’s political role and made Munir Chief of Defence Forces over all three services. It also gave him lifetime immunity from criminal prosecution. Constitutional cases were shifted from the Supreme Court to a new Federal Constitutional Court, with judges appointed by the executive. Two senior Supreme Court judges resigned in protest. One said, “The Constitution I swore to uphold is no more.” A constitutional lawyer noted, “Parliament has done what previous dictators could only dream of.” No one knows exactly what was said in that Oval Office meeting. But as Hamid Gul, the legendary ISI chief professed, “Pakistan’s leaders are decided in Washington.” It’s only a guess to say the meeting directly led to the amendment. Still, the order of events matters: Munir visited Washington in September, received a very warm welcome from a president who values strong personal power, and then returned to lead the biggest increase in military authority in Pakistan’s history, in November. Whether Trump supported, encouraged, or just set the right mood, the outcome matched what both men seemed to want. Pakistan also launched a large-scale flattery campaign that fits Trump’s style perfectly. In a system based on personal ties, keeping the leader’s ego satisfied is part of the job. Sharif and Munir supported Trump’s Nobel Peace Prize bid several times, with Sharif telling him at the Egypt summit: “You’re the man this world needed most at this point in time.” Pakistan also hired lobbying firms with Trump’s former associates and offered real deals in counterterrorism, minerals, and crypto. Nobel nominations and crypto deals are the main currencies in the world these two men operate in, where personal and political matters are closely linked. Both men understand this instinctively. That’s why their relationship works so well, but also why it depends so much on the people involved.
The Call That Matters.
The Iran mediation shows how much this personal alignment has shaped foreign policy. When Trump wants something done, he calls someone he trusts. Trump said he agreed to the Iran ceasefire “based on conversations with Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif and Field Marshal Asim Munir of Pakistan,” adding that they had “requested that I hold off the destructive force being sent tonight to Iran. In any earlier diplomatic system, an American president crediting a Pakistani military officer for stopping US military action would be remarkable. But with the personal style of government both men use, it feels normal. Munir had access, built the relationship, and made the call. This week, Trump called him “fantastic” and said Iran talks would return to Pakistan because of Munir’s work. The State Department was not the main player.
Nothing Lasts Without Institutions
A former Pakistani envoy issued a warning, pointing out that the Trump-Modi friendship in the first term later fell apart, saying, “No relationships are assured in perpetuity.” Systems built on personal ties depend on the people involved. When interests change, or a new crisis calls for a different partner, the relationship fades because there are no strong institutions to sustain it. The same thing that makes the Trump-Munir partnership work so well also makes it fragile. It was built by two men in a room, based on personal chemistry and business interests. For countries with stronger institutions, this can be a disadvantage while Trump is in charge, but it’s also a safety net for the future. Institutions may move slowly, but they last. The real question is always how far ahead you’re planning. Right now in Tehran, Pakistan’s army chief is delivering America’s message. Two men, two systems, one unusual logic. It works, until it stops working.