By Sardar Khan Niazi

Every nation has a spine — something intangible, but unbreakable — that holds it together through chaos, war, political strife, and disaster. For Pakistan, that spine is the blood of its soldiers, officers, paramedics, police, and martyrs who give everything so that the country can breathe freely. The phrase blood that guards the nation is not just poetic rhetoric; it is a reality etched into our soil. Each drop of blood spilled by our men and women in uniform is a line drawn in the sand — a promise that this nation will endure. It is easy, in the comfort of our urban lives, to take for granted the shield that stands silently between chaos and us. However, to ignore the cost of peace is to dishonor those who pay its price. From the peaks of Siachen to the deserts of Baluchistan, from the rugged terrains of North Waziristan to the streets of Karachi and Lahore, our security forces stand watch. Many do not return. Their names are sometimes etched on a plaque, sometimes whispered in a prayer, and sometimes lost to history. But the impact of their sacrifice is neither silent nor small. In recent years, as Pakistan has grappled with terrorism, internal unrest, and geopolitical tensions, the military and law enforcement agencies have remained the last line of defense. Operation Zarb-e-Azb and later Radd-ul-Fasaad were not merely military maneuvers — they were national lifelines. Thousands laid down their lives so that millions could walk to schools, mosques, and markets without fear. This is not something that can be quantified in news reports or commemorative events. It is lived every day by the families who lost sons, husbands, daughters and fathers. Critics of the military men – our heroes in times of crisis — often cite issues of political interference or institutional overreach. While such conversations are necessary in a healthy democracy, they must be held without losing sight of the sacrifices that are unrelated to politics — the sacrifices made in battlefields, checkpoints, and rescue missions. The blood that guards the nation is not just a military figure of speech. It includes the sacrifices of rescue workers who entered the rubble during earthquakes and floods. It includes police officers ambushed during routine patrols. It includes paramedics who served in conflict zones, and even journalists who died covering the truth in the face of grave threats. Together, they form the immune system of Pakistan — constantly fighting off attacks, often unnoticed, but always vital. Yet, we do not do enough to honor them. Our national memory is short, and our attention is easily swayed. How many of us remember the names of the APS martyrs? How many remember the soldiers who died securing Swat or the police officers martyred in Quetta or Peshawar? How many even know the stories of the pilots who died defending our skies? Patriotism is not proven by flag-waving or anthem-singing alone. It is measured by our ability to honor sacrifice, to uphold the ideals our fallen died defending — justice, peace, and dignity. If we truly wish to be a grateful nation, then our institutions must do more than just hold annual events; we must take care of the families left behind, educate the youth about these heroes, and ensure their blood was not spilled in vain. In a time when narratives are shaped by social media noise and misinformation, let us not forget the fundamental truth: that the peace we enjoy — however imperfect — is built on the courage of those who stood unflinching in the face of danger. Their blood guards the nation. Our duty is to remember — and to be worthy of their sacrifice.