The ongoing conflict over water distribution is likely to intensify as the country is facing a severe water crisis.

The conflict over water distribution in Pakistan has resurfaced. Sindh and Balochistan have registered a strong protest against the Indus River System Authority(IRSA)’s decision to reduce their water share by diverting it to Punjab. IRSA is Pakistan’s main body responsible for “the regulation and distribution of surface waters amongst the provinces according to the allocations and policies spelt out in the Water Accord” 1991.

Sindh’s ongoing water shortage stems from IRSA’s actions, which, by allocating more water to Punjab despite overall scarcity, intensify perceptions of unfairness and fuel the conflict over water distribution. This pattern has sharpened the provincial dispute, positioning Punjab as a consistent beneficiary at Sindh’s expense. 

This is not the first time that the issue of water distribution has been contested between Punjab and Sindh. The country has a long history in which smaller provinces complained against Punjab over the unfair distribution of resources, including water.

In a major development, after years of delay, the Government of Pakistan issued the first National Water Policy (NWP) in 2018. Claimed to be have formed after gaining the consensus of the chief ministers of all four provinces, the NWP, according to the Planning Commission Deputy Chairman Sartaj Aziz, “covered all water-related issues, including water uses and allocation of priorities, integrated planning for development and use of water resources, environmental integrity of the basin, impact of climate change, trans-boundary water sharing, irrigated and rain-fed agriculture.” However, the committee subsequently formed to oversee its implementation could not reconcile the interests of Punjab and Sindh, mainly. 

Sindh is of the view that the policy was formed under coercion, as the Pakistan Muslim League-N (PML-N), the party with a strong presence in Punjab, was leading the federal government, forcing the decision upon smaller provinces. Sartaj Aziz, the deputy chairman of the Planning Commission, was considered to be close to Nawaz Sharif. So, the reservations of Sindh and Balochistan may not be entirely unfounded. 

In 2021, Sindh raised the issue and demanded a new water-sharing arrangement. The conflict came into the limelight in January 2025 when Pakistan People’s Party (PPP) chairman Bilawal Bhutto and the PML-N-led government in Punjab, led by Nawaz Sharif’s daughter Maryam Nawaz, issued strong statements against each other over a project in Punjab—the Cholistan canal project. 

In February 2025, Chief Minister of Punjab Maryam Nawaz and Army Chief Gen. Asim Munir inaugurated an ambitious project in Cholistan to irrigate barren land under the Green Pakistan Initiative. The project would draw new canals from the Indus River, impacting the lower riparian Sindh Province. 

The decision expectedly led to a reaction from Sindh and protests from the Sindhis. They alleged that allocations were already extensively in Punjab’s favour, and any new such project would cripple Sindh’s irrigation system. Bilawal Bhutto even threatened that if the canal project was not shelved, his party would leave the alliance government in the centre. Unmoved by such threats, Maryam Nawaz said in September 2025 that “If Punjab wants to construct canals for its water, why are you bothered? It is Punjab’s water. It belongs to the people, farmers and fields of Punjab.” To make such a statement would not have been possible without the support of the Army who seen siding with Punjab.

The Cholistan canal project’s inauguration illustrates how Punjab’s dominance in Pakistan’s power structure influences resource allocation. High-profile involvement of the Army leadership in the project reinforces the perception that Punjab’s interests prevail over those of the smaller provinces, exemplifying the central argument that resource disputes are shaped by entrenched political and institutional imbalances.

Second, the project was launched despite the fact that Sindh had strongly protested against it; thus, it showed that Punjab pays the least attention to the concerns of smaller provinces. In the past as well, Sindh and Balochistan have raised the larger question about the water distribution in the country, which they think is not fair and needs renegotiation, but have not received any response from the federation. 

The latest controversy underscores the same attitude of the Punjab Province towards the smaller and weaker provinces of the country. Instead of being mindful of the requirements and demands of Sindh and Balochistan, Punjab’s interests remain preferable for the country’s rulers. 

Former President of the United States, John F. Kennedy, had said that “Anyone who can solve the problems of water will be worthy of two Nobel Prizes—one for peace and one for science.” Kennedy had said these prescient words over sixty years ago. Still, Pakistan has been unable to address one of its core issues—the water scarcity and the distribution of its water resources among the provinces equally. 

For over 70 years of its formation, Pakistan’s colonial hangover continues. Despite all these challenges, the colonial structure has been deployed by the existing military-bureaucratic oligarchy, as the noted political scientist of Pakistan, Hamza Alavi, called it, to favour the powerful province, i.e., Punjab, over other weak provinces of the country. 

Resultantly, in the total share of the country’s water resources, equal distribution is hampered by the existing political system that remains overwhelmingly dominated by the Punjabis. For example, Field Marshall Asim Munir is the fourth successive Punjabi to lead the country’s powerful military, which remains dominated by the Punjabis. Of the last seven prime ministers since 2008, all but Imran Khan have been Punjabis. 

Implications of such a political system in which the largest province has been a dominant and driving force have often led to conflicts, for example, on the distribution of resources. Balochistan’s main complaint has been the exploitation of its resources by the Punjab Province at the cost of the local population: they call it Punjabi colonisation of Balochistan. And Sindh has often raised its concerns about the Punjab’s overuse of water that is meant for its use.

The ongoing conflict over water distribution is likely to intensify as the country is facing a severe water crisis. If Punjab continues its recklessness and prefers its interests over the weaker provinces, local resistance in Sindh and Balochistan will strengthen, forcing the provincial governments to take a stand against the federal government. That can lead to confrontational politics and even the fall of the government, if the PPP withdraws its support, as Bilawal had threatened. 

Overall, the situation remains grimmer than it seems. The military establishment might have forced the PPP to be part of the government, but if the local basic requirements, like water, are not delivered by the PPP-led government in Sindh, it cannot retain the support of the Sindhis, the third largest ethnic group of Pakistan- after Punjabis and Pashtuns. If their resistance revives against the Punjabi domination, the subsequent strengthening of the Sindhudesh movement can expose yet another fault line of Pakistan.

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

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.

What Pakistan has surrendered in return is the institutional balance that once provided guardrails against rash escalation.

In Islamabad, history did not turn with a coup or a populist uprising — it changed quietly, with the stroke of a pen. When Pakistan passed its 27th Constitutional Amendment, there were no tanks in the streets, no suspended parliament broadcasts, no dramatic late-night speeches. The move was subtle, almost procedural. Yet, behind its legal language lies the most significant expansion of military authority in the country’s modern history.

While framed as a necessary reform to strengthen national security, the amendment fundamentally restructures Pakistan’s governance model by granting Field Marshal Asim Munir unprecedented authority over the state, the military, and—most critically—Pakistan’s nuclear arsenal.

The legal elevation of Pakistan’s de facto ruler into a constitutionally untouchable position marks a turning point for a country whose political system has long been undermined by military dominance. Now, that dominance is not just entrenched—it is formalized.

The Amendment That Institutionalizes Military Rule

The 27th Amendment establishes a new position, the Chief of Defense Forces (CDF), which consolidates command over the Army, Navy, and Air Force under Munir’s sole leadership. In doing so, it effectively eliminates the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Committee, the single institution responsible for balancing power across Pakistan’s tri-services.

Even more consequentially, the amendment grants lifetime immunity to five-star officers, placing Munir and future CDFs beyond legal accountability for both military and political decisions. Whereas past military rulers seized power through coups, Munir now commands Pakistan through the constitution itself.

Civilian leaders may occupy government buildings, but the reins of the state security, foreign policy, and strategic decision-making firmly rest with Pakistan’s most powerful general. Seizing power through the 27^th Amendment serves two purposes for Munir. He gets to be the de facto leader of Pakistan’s civil-military regime under law, a privilege previous military dictators did not have, and secondly, Munir gets to save his face, standing up to the reputation of a “legitimate” leader, with whom foreign leaders would not hesitate to engage directly. 

A New Nuclear Command: First country to have a military leader in command of nuclear weapons

Perhaps the most profound shift concerns nuclear oversight. The amendment introduces the position of Commander of the National Strategic Command (CNSC), a role directly under the CDF and responsible for all operational control of Pakistan’s nuclear arsenal. Previously, the nuclear launch authority sat within the National Command Authority, where both civilian and military leadership helped maintain a system of shared judgment.

Now, Munir commands the only finger on the button that matters.

This change shortens the chain of command in nuclear decision-making—something Pakistan justifies as necessary for deterrence against India. But a faster chain of command also reduces the time available for deliberation during crises, magnifying the risk of miscalculation. Moreover, placing nuclear authority solely under the Army eliminates institutional checks that are vital in a region marked by frequent militarized crises.

Such a move makes Pakistan the only nuclear country in the world where the sole command to authorize a strike rests with a military officer. Experts have historically warned that centralizing nuclear authority to a single military office poses serious dangers of weakened political oversight and increased risk of misperception and escalation. 

Can Military Centralization Fix Domestic Instability?

Supporters argue that stronger centralized command is essential to confront Pakistan’s rapidly deteriorating internal security environment. Over 1,000 Pakistanis have been killed in terrorist incidents this year, as the Tehrik-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP), among other militant organizations, regain operational reach and recruits.

Simultaneously, Baloch separatists have intensified attacks against Chinese personnel and critical infrastructure—a trend that threatens Pakistan’s major economic partnerships. Munir’s response has focused not on reforming intelligence agencies or reforming counterinsurgency policies but on kinetic pressure: cross-border missile strikes into Afghanistan, collective punishment in tribal districts, and crackdowns on political dissent framed as counterterrorism.

These operations have failed to reduce militant capabilities. Instead, they have deepened local resentment and produced blowback in the form of increased militant recruitment.

The 27th Amendment gives Munir even more control over internal security, but it does not equip Pakistan with the governance tools needed to address the political grievances driving these insurgencies. Military rule may offer speed and force, but it cannot deliver legitimacy—or peace—on its own.

India’s Deterrence Calculus Has Already Shifted

For decades, Pakistan’s nuclear signaling deterred India from responding militarily to Pakistan-based militant attacks. That strategic reality has changed as India’s ground and air operations over the past decade demonstrate a willingness to escalate even under the shadow of nuclear weapons.

Pakistan’s low-threshold nuclear doctrine—threatening early first use if India attempts even limited operations—has therefore lost credibility in New Delhi.

Munir’s control over nuclear forces may accelerate crisis escalation rather than prevent it. With fewer voices involved in decision-making and a nuclear doctrine that encourages rapid activation, India may find itself forced to preempt or retaliate quickly in a future confrontation.

And in a region where crises often begin with terrorist attacks, Pakistan claims no responsibility for; the risk of miscalculation is not theoretical—it is imminent. As I have recently warned in my analysis for the Bulletin of Atomic Scientists, a terror strike in New Delhi or Kashmir could rapidly transform into a conventional conflict fought under nuclear constraints, which neither state has truly tested.

Conclusion: The Strategic Cost of Militarized Stability

Pakistan’s leaders may believe that empowering the military is the only path to stability, especially amid political turbulence and economic crisis. But this amendment represents a paradox: a move justified in the name of security that may, in practice, make Pakistan—and the region—less secure.

Civilian authority is weakened, nuclear oversight is narrowed, internal grievances are unaddressed, and India’s evolving military posture further undermines Pakistan’s deterrent signaling. Munir now has the authority he has long operated with in practice. What Pakistan has surrendered in return is the institutional balance that once provided guardrails against rash escalation.

Pakistan is now a nuclear-armed country confronted by resurgent insurgencies, political instability, and hostile borders—yet governed by a security model that empowers one military commander with unchecked authority. The 27th Amendment does not strengthen Pakistan’s democracy or make nuclear war less likely. It does the opposite: it increases the speed of decision-making while decreasing the diversity of voices shaping those decisions.

As Pakistan enters this new era of legally sanctioned military supremacy, regional stability hinges on the judgment of a single leader commanding a nuclear arsenal built on a doctrine of early use. For a country defined by volatility, the future now balances on the narrowest margin imaginable.

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

Unless Pakistan embarks on deep reforms, prioritizes rule of law, and restores investor confidence, the exits will only accelerate.

Pakistan’s economy, once hailed as an “emerging market” with vast potential, is now facing a crisis so deep that global corporations are fleeing in unprecedented numbers. The latest blow came earlier this month when Yamaha Motor Pakistan announced it would cease motorcycle production, adding its name to the growing list of multinationals abandoning the country. Far from being a matter of shifting corporate strategy, these exits signal something far more alarming: a structural collapse that has transformed Pakistan from a promising investment destination into a corporate graveyard.

Yamaha Joins the Exit Parade

On September 9, 2025, Yamaha Motor Pakistan formally shut down local motorcycle production. The company described the move as a “change in business strategy,” but few inside the industry were surprised. Rising political instability, inconsistent policies, and a suffocating business climate have made it nearly impossible for global companies to operate in Pakistan.

Yamaha’s decision came just weeks after Microsoft stunned the market by closing all its operations after a quarter of a century. In its exit statement, Microsoft cited “political chaos and regulatory risks,” a phrase that now captures the reality confronting every foreign investor in Pakistan.

The symbolic weight of Microsoft’s departure cannot be overstated. For 25 years, the technology giant had endured the turbulence of Pakistan’s markets, adjusting to shifting governments, abrupt regulatory changes, and recurring security challenges. When Microsoft finally decided to pull out, it was not just a loss of jobs or investment—it was a verdict on the country’s inability to provide a stable environment for even the most resilient investors.

Former Pakistani President Arif Alvi admitted that the nation was “swimming in a whirlpool of uncertainty.”

Microsoft’s former country head Jawwad Rehman added that if a global technology leader could no longer sustain itself, then the message to smaller investors was painfully clear: Pakistan had become toxic for business.

The Long List of Departures

The exits of Yamaha and Microsoft are only the most visible in a long procession of corporate departures. Since 2022, more than 21 multinational giants across diverse industries have either scaled down operations or left Pakistan altogether. Shell sold off its stake after years of currency depreciation made profits unsustainable.

Telenor, once a telecom leader in the country, divested its operations amid political turmoil and a shrinking market. Global pharmaceutical giants such as Pfizer, Sanofi, Bayer, Eli Lilly, and Viatris departed, citing everything from regulatory hurdles and corruption in drug approvals to currency volatility and difficulties in profit repatriation.

The ride-hailing sector, once a symbol of Pakistan’s digital promise, also collapsed under economic and political pressures.

Uber, after acquiring Careem, eventually consolidated its operations and then withdrew, blaming the unstable market environment. Energy and industrial players followed the same path: TotalEnergies (through its joint venture PARCO) scaled back investments due to high taxation and governance challenges, while South Korea’s Lotte Chemical left, citing energy shortages and collapsing infrastructure.

Each of these departures has stripped the Pakistani economy of jobs, capital, and credibility. More importantly, every exit has reinforced the perception that Pakistan is no longer safe, stable, or profitable for global business.

Why Are Corporations Leaving?

The causes of this exodus are not limited to cyclical downturns but stem from deep structural weaknesses. Political instability remains at the heart of the problem. Governments rise and fall with alarming frequency, while authoritarian crackdowns and abrupt policy shifts make long-term planning impossible.

Security concerns also weigh heavily, with businesses facing constant threats from terrorism, smuggling economies, and an overall climate of lawlessness. Governance failures further complicate the picture.

Multinationals routinely complain of harassment, bureaucratic red tape, and widespread demands for bribes. The tax regime is another major obstacle, changing dramatically with every budget, leaving corporations unable to predict costs or revenues with any certainty. Energy shortages compound the crisis, with chronic power cuts, fuel scarcity, and decaying logistics infrastructure making industrial production unsustainable.

These structural failures mean that corporations are not simply leaving because of temporary downturns but because they see no prospect of stability or reform.

The Domino Effect on Pakistan’s Economy

The consequences of these departures are devastating. Foreign direct investment has collapsed to record lows, and unemployment continues to rise as thousands lose jobs in the wake of each corporate exit. Capital flight has intensified, creating further pressure on Pakistan’s foreign reserves and aggravating the dollar shortage.

With private capital drying up, Islamabad has grown increasingly dependent on International Monetary Fund bailouts, which bring temporary relief but also deepen cycles of dependency and austerity.

Internationally, Pakistan is no longer seen as an “emerging market” with untapped potential but as a high-risk quagmire. Each departure sends a loud message to the world’s financial centers that the country is unsafe for business, discouraging new investors and undermining whatever confidence remains.

From Tech Hubs to Terror Hubs

The contrast with neighboring India highlights the scale of Pakistan’s decline. While India attracts record-breaking foreign investment in technology, manufacturing, and renewable energy, Pakistan has instead become synonymous with political chaos and military dominance. International investors increasingly view Pakistan as a country where economic policy is dictated not by economists but by generals, and where short-term populism routinely outweighs the need for structural reform.

The promise of Pakistan as a hub for innovation and growth has been replaced with the perception of a nation trapped in its own cycles of instability. For multinationals, the choice has become stark: invest in dynamic, rule-based economies like India or Vietnam, or risk being trapped in Pakistan’s uncertainty.

A Warning Written in Capital Flight

Among all the recent exits, Microsoft’s departure remains the most symbolic. The company’s decision after a quarter of a century served as a warning that Pakistan’s crisis is not just about economics but about governance itself. If one of the world’s most adaptive and resilient technology firms could no longer operate in Pakistan, then few others would dare to try.

For now, officials in Islamabad continue to downplay the exodus as part of “strategic business realignments,” but the evidence tells another story. Multinationals are not leaving because of shifting strategies alone—they are fleeing an environment poisoned by corruption, instability, and insecurity.

Unless Pakistan embarks on deep reforms, prioritizes rule of law, and restores investor confidence, the exits will only accelerate.

The Verdict of Multinationals

The verdict from global corporations is unequivocal. Yamaha, Microsoft, Shell, Pfizer, Sanofi, Uber, and many others did not walk away lightly. They left because Pakistan has become unlivable for multinational investment. Until the state prioritizes stability, good governance, and long-term reform over populist politics and short-term fixes, the exodus will continue unabated.

What was once a dream of economic revival now lies in ruins. For Pakistan, the sound of multinationals packing up is not just an economic story—it is the echo of a damning indictment of its governance failures. Unless the nation changes course, its vision of prosperity will remain nothing more than a mirage.