There is a strange link between nuclear technology, Osama bin Laden, and mythical djinns that all lead to a name that is usually overshadowed in geopolitics, Lt General Ahmed Sharif Chaudhry, the Director General of Pakistan’s Inter-Services Public Relations (ISPR). Although Chaudhry has recently appeared in regular press briefings because of the tense standoff with India, his family background tells a much more intricate story.
At the center of that web is his father, Sultan Bashiruddin Mahmood—a one-time hero nuclear engineer in Pakistan, now a cautionary tale of the intersection of ideology, science, and extremism.
The Nuclear Engineer With Radical Beliefs
Mahmood was instrumental in designing Pakistan’s nuclear program while serving at the Pakistan Atomic Energy Commission (PAEC). His work facilitated the transformation of the nation’s capabilities from uranium to plutonium-based nuclear weapons, which became the cornerstone of Pakistan’s deterrence posture.
But his legacy turned controversial after his retirement. In the early 2000s, Mahmood co-founded Ummah Tameer-e-Nau (UTN), an NGO that purported to construct infrastructure in Taliban-occupied Afghanistan. Intelligence agencies, however, discovered a different agenda. The United Nations reported that Mahmood and his partner Chaudhri Abdul Majeed had several meetings in 2001 with al-Qaeda leaders Osama bin Laden and Ayman al-Zawahiri.
“UTN supplied Usama bin Laden and the Taliban with data relating to chemical, biological, and nuclear weapons. Bashir-Ud-Din also met Mullah Omar in 2001,” the UN reported, adding Mahmood provided data on nuclear facilities and the consequences of nuclear weapons.
Though Pakistani officials detained him briefly, the ISI asserted Mahmood did not have the technical know-how to build a nuclear weapon on his own. He was released later.
A Scientist Who Was Djinns- and Islamic Nuke-Obsessed
Mahmood’s fixation did not stop at weapons. His writing branched out into metaphysical speculation, including theories involving djinns—supernatural creatures of Islamic mythology. Djinn, he believed, were the solution to the world’s energy crisis. These were beliefs, however strange they sound, that formed part of his larger worldview: one in which science, religion, and anti-Western ideology were intertwined.
In The Man from Pakistan, Douglas Frantz and Catherine Collins explain how Mahmood regarded Pakistan’s nuclear weapons not as state assets but as a “trust of the Muslim Ummah.” The weapons were intended to be shared among Islamic countries that were battling the West, a sentiment which strongly perturbed Western intelligence communities.
Lt Gen Chaudhry: A Legacy Tainted by Extremism
Lt General Ahmed Sharif Chaudhry, Mahmood’s son, cut a different figure. Trained in Pakistan and a graduate in the Corps of Electrical and Mechanical Engineering, he occupied key slots in Pakistan’s military establishment, including in the Defence Science and Technology Organisation (DESTO)—a organisation sanctioned by the US when Pakistan conducted nuclear tests in 1998.
Now, as Pakistan’s military spokesman in the midst of one of the most fraught moments in recent India-Pakistan history, Chaudhry’s every utterance bears significance. Yet, his father’s extremist associations and what they say about the internal dynamics of Pakistan are also making a comeback.
The irony is not lost—while Chaudhry tries to keep international perceptions in check, his father’s legacy continues to resonate throughout intelligence communities and diplomatic circles. The legacy combines nuclear aspiration, mystical thinking, and covert terror connections—a cocktail that continues to make Pakistan’s position on the global stage more difficult.
As both nations draw closer to war, and the world looks on, Pakistan could be compelled to face not only outside forces but also the eerie ghosts of its nuclear history.
