On the one hand, Pakistan keeps China entangled by highlighting the potential of the CPEC; on the other, it abides by the dictates of the IMF to get new loans and delays CPEC projects.

Ishaq Dar, the Deputy Prime Minister and Foreign Minister of Pakistan, recently said that “Pakistan and China share a converging vision on regional and global issues.” Dar’s silver-tongue didn’t spell out the “vision”; he doesn’t have one. Pakistan doesn’t have one. That is the reason for its consistent loan-seeking and reliance on foreign bailouts to keep the country’s economy afloat.

Islamabad has been knocking at every possible door with its begging bowl. It holds the record of taking the maximum number of loans from the International Monetary Fund (IMF) – 23 in a short span of over 75 years since joining the financial body in 1950.

A part of Dar’s statement highlighted the true intention behind Pakistan’s relationship with China. Dar said that the ties between Islamabad and Beijing have “grown from strength to strength into a robust economic and strategic partnership”. The downside of the latter part of the statement is that it is overwhelmingly one-sided, heavily favouring Pakistan.

Pakistan has been shrewd in buttering up China to extract maximum economic help from the Chinese. Celebrating Pakistan-China’s 75th anniversary of diplomatic relations with much fanfare remains part of the same policy. Even the Senate passed a resolution praising China for its support for Pakistan. The latter, in turn, has led to Beijing’s entanglement in Pakistan’s economic mess.

Pakistan has become a rentier state, living off financial support provided to it by others. It has time and again failed abysmally to reform its economic structure. From the money coming from outside the country, the ruling elite and the military establishment siphon off a large chunk. Some portion of it is used to manage macroeconomic indicators, to keep hopes of the local population alive and, at the same time, keep money flowing in from countries like China, Saudi Arabia, Qatar and international financial institutions.

Islamabad’s relations with China are emblematic of what can be called Pakistan’s rent-seeking policy. For example, the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC) has been presented by Islamabad as a “game changer” for the country. The project has been seen as vindicating “ironclad friendship” between Pakistan and China. It is sold to build infrastructure, create jobs, and transform the country’s economic structure for lasting suitability.

Hardly anything concrete has been achieved from the billions of dollars of investment from China. In the last few years, about $8 billion in potential investment was lost due to the failure to woo foreign investors. An editorial in Dawn vindicates the larger failure of the project: “The gap between ambition and delivery is too wide to ignore. The fact that only four SEZs have moved beyond the planning stage in over a decade exposes the deeper failure of execution.” This remains important as 75 per cent of the CPEC was supposed to go into the development of new and old Special Economic Zones (SEZs) that could have boosted outputs to be transported on the corridor to other countries, helping in increasing exports.

Pakistan’s decision not to establish SEZs was taken because the IMF had set no SEZ condition for new loans. On the one hand, Pakistan keeps China entangled by highlighting the potential of the CPEC; on the other, it abides by the dictates of the IMF to get new loans and delays CPEC projects. In this way, it keeps both sponsors hooked.

Despite all hyperbolic talks and symbolism about the potential of the project, given Pakistan’s structural constraints for economic reforms and security threats for foreign investors, CPEC has underperformed in achieving whatever goals it was supposed to achieve. Already, various issues are being raised over the CPEC. Many projects started since it was rolled out in 2014 have not been completed; work on many goes slowly, and many are yet to take off. And whatever has been completed has not yielded economic benefits.

China has realised that. The Chinese have expressed their frustration with Pakistan time and again. The Chinese were “not happy with the current progress of CPEC projects” and wanted the government of Pakistan to work to remove bottlenecks in the implementation of the project. Later, China’s concerns were compounded by increasing armed attacks in Balochistan, also targeting Chinese investments and nationals working on various projects and political instability in Pakistan, asking Pakistan to overcome its political crisis. None of these issues has been addressed. In fact, armed attacks in Balochistan have increased, and political instability remains.

There is a difference in the views of CPEC as well. While for Pakistan the CPEC is projected as a solution to all its problems, for China, it is part of larger Belt and Road Initiative (BRI). Therefore, expectations of the two are consequently different. Both, China and Pakistan, however, are aware of the fact that the CPEC is not meeting the desired expectations. Still, they keep selling it, in Pakistan particularly, by overstating its potential. Both countries have their interests in doing so; more so, Pakistan.

Pakistan’s foreign exchange reserves always fall short of the country’s needs to pay for imports and pay back loans to countries and institutions. Pakistan has mostly suffered a current account deficit; lately, again in April, the current account deficit was $324 million. That being the case, Pakistan needs two things: continuous foreign financial aid and its deferment, since it cannot pay back loans on time.

That is the reason Pakistan wants to be in China’s good books: it does so by showering praise on China and highlighting the potential of CPEC, which it knows very well has not been achieved. By rolling a narrative about “iron-clad” relationship, “all-weather” friendship, etc., Pakistan seeks keep China hooked on to the Pakistani dream. Time to time, high level visits and requests from the Pakistani side aim to convince China about investing its fortunes in Pakistan. The recent visit by President Asif Zardari to China was also aimed at securing Chinese assurance to stay engaged economically under CPEC.

Pakistan is eternally busy dragging China into various sectors of its economy. After welcoming Chinese investment in infrastructure, industry and agriculture, Pakistan has now opened the defence sector to China. During Zardari’s visit, it was clear that Islamabad wanted to present provinces as new potential investment options. He went on to sign memorandums of understanding (MoUs) on agriculture technology, water desalination, and tea production, with a focus on provincial-level collaboration: at least two agreements were signed with the Sindh Government.

Even China seems to know it well and has lost its enthusiasm in CPEC. Given the failure of CPEC to achieve its goals, its consistently rising costs, and the security threats to the investment, China now wants to protect the huge investment at all cost. To do so, it has announced new small projects — more to keep a watch on the current investment than being hopeful of securing benefits from them. China has not so far announced any major investment, knowing that previous ones have not yielded desired dividends.

Pakistan has been trying to increase its labour-intensive exports but faces tough competition from countries like Bangladesh and Vietnam. Any possible success in this sector would depend on credible policy determination and a viable business environment. Both these are lacking in Pakistan. And given the mindset of the Pakistani ruling elite, they are likely to continue their rent-seeking policy vis-à-vis China by playing various cards, like offering new sectors for investment, of late.

It is unlikely, however, that the inscrutable but highly mercantile Chinese will fall for Pakistani charm in the realm of economics. This would mean that while Pakistan-China will try to remain geopolitically together, geo-economic bonding between the two will not be as strong as Pakistan would like the world to believe.  

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view.

Balochistan’s modern history is inseparable from the manner in which it entered Pakistan.

On December 10, the U.S. Chargé d’Affaires in Islamabad, Natalie Baker, announced that the U.S. Exim Bank had approved a package of $1.25 billion in financing to support mining operations at Reko Diq, one of the world’s richest untapped copper and gold deposits. On the surface, Washington framed the decision as a step toward securing global supply chains for critical minerals.

Islamabad portrayed it as a sign of renewed confidence in Pakistan’s investment climate. But for Balochistan, Pakistan’s largest province by land but its poorest by every measure, the announcement landed like yet another reminder that its natural wealth is a prize others are free to carve up.

This Exim Bank financing flows directly after two MoUs were signed on September 8, 2025, between Pakistan and the United States for “critical minerals cooperation.” The military dominated Shehbaz Sharif government heralded the agreements as a milestone. But in Balochistan, they are yet another chapter in an old story: the extraction of Balochistan’s resources by outside powers, facilitated by a central government that treats the province not as a partner but as a colony.

For decades, Pakistan has perfected a model of imperial governance in Balochistan, which combines military control, political manipulation, and economic dispossession. What is new today is not the extraction but the identity of the extractors. The United States now joins China, whose multibillion-dollar projects under the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC) have already given Beijing expansive access to Balochistan’s ports, highways, and mineral deposits.

Pakistan’s rulers have turned Balochistan into a marketplace where global powers shop for resources while the people who live above those riches remain among the most deprived in South Asia.

Balochistan’s modern history is inseparable from the manner in which it entered Pakistan. After the forced accession of 1948, the province was governed with suspicion and repression. Islamabad treated Baloch aspirations for autonomy as rebellion, not politics. The result is a province where the most powerful institution is not the provincial assembly but the Quetta cantonment, whose writ supersedes that of any civilian office.

Even today, Balochistan’s political leadership is crafted in military corridors of Rawalpindi and the condonement at Quetta. The current chief minister, Sarfaraz Bugti, is widely viewed as a product of the military establishment, who is another local administrator empowered to manage dissent rather than address the province’s material deprivation. The result is a governance system more interested in securing resource corridors than building schools, hospitals, or representative institutions.

Under this militarized order, resource extraction has been carefully organized to ensure that wealth flows outward to Pakistan’s dominant province, Punjab, and to foreign partners courted by the military-led state. Balochistan’s natural gas from Sui fueled Pakistan’s industrial growth for decades, yet most Baloch households cook on firewood.

Today, its copper and gold fields promise to enrich foreign corporations and deliver revenue to Islamabad, while the communities living in the shadow of these mines remain jobless, landless, and under surveillance.

Even menial jobs at major projects like security guards, cleaners, construction labor, are routinely filled by workers imported from Punjab. The message is unmistakable that the state does not merely extract from Balochistan, it excludes Baloch people from even the crumbs of that extraction.

The rush by both China and the U.S. for access to Balochistan’s minerals reflects how Pakistan’s ruling elite has repositioned the province within global competition. Beijing’s footprint was first to expand, anchored by the Gwadar port and a series of infrastructure and mining agreements.

CPEC promised development but delivered a model where Chinese companies received generous concessions, security cordons were erected to protect foreign workers, and local fishing communities were pushed to the margins.

Now, Washington enters the scene, not as a counterweight to China’s influence but as another partner in Pakistan’s long tradition of opaque, extractive deals. It reflects a bipartisan plunder with Pakistan inviting multiple patrons to mine a region whose own residents are denied the most basic political and economic rights.

The most striking thing about Balochistan is how starkly its material reality contradicts its mineral wealth. Despite being mineral rich in every aspect, the province ranks at the bottom of every development index in Pakistan. For instance, the poverty appears near-universal with 71 percent of the provincial population living in multidimensional poverty. It is nearly double the national average of 38 percent and in districts like Awaran, Kharan, and Panjgur, even exceeds 80 percent.

Likewise, education is in an equally dire state. Literacy hovers around 40–44 percent, the lowest in the country, with female literacy dropping below 25 percent in many rural districts. More than 60 percent of Balochistan’s children are out of school. These are not statistics of a neglected province; they are the metrics of deliberate underdevelopment.

The story is same across healthcare with the province recording the highest maternal mortality ratio of 785 deaths per 100,000 live births. It is abysmal compared to the national average of 186.

Nevertheless, the new U.S. financing for Reko Diq along with the other critical mineral MoU is significant not because it marks a shift in Washington’s policy but because it reveals a continuity in Pakistan’s own governing logic of treating Balochistan as a frontier to exploit.

The province is secured by force, governed through proxies, and opened to whichever foreign power is willing to invest billions with no questions asked about political rights or local consent.

Even when the government speaks of “benefit-sharing,” it does not specify it that the benefit is for Punjabis and Punjabi military and political elite that dominates the levers of power in Pakistan. As such, it is not partnership but a plunder with legal paperwork.

The tragedy is not just that Balochistan’s resources are being plundered. It is that this plunder is now bipartisan, endorsed by Islamabad, welcomed by Washington and Beijing, and justified in the name of development that never arrives.

For the people of Balochistan, the empire has simply added new partners. The loot continues. The province remains impoverished. And the world’s most powerful countries now share in the spoils of a land whose own residents have yet to taste the prosperity lying beneath their feet.

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view.