Pakistan’s foreign policy today resembles a high-stakes trapeze act over a geopolitical chasm. On one side stands China, the “all-weather friend”, whose over $70 billion investment in the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC) — the single largest project in Beijing’s Belt and Road Initiative — has made it Islamabad’s primary economic and strategic anchor. On the other, the United States, a historically fickle partner now being courted anew, given the transactional pragmatism of the Trump administration. The potentially unsustainable contradictions of this “double game” were thrown into stark relief by two recent, simultaneous developments: Pakistan’s endorsement of the Moscow Format declaration, and the quiet offer of the Pasni Port to American investors.
The Moscow Format meeting on Afghanistan, attended by major regional powers including India, Iran, Pakistan, China, and Russia, concluded with a joint statement that explicitly rejected the establishment of foreign military bases “in and around Afghanistan”. This is a direct pushback against the possibility of the US attempting to regain a military foothold in the region after Trump announced his desire to regain Bagram Airbase — abandoned by the US when the Biden Administration beat a hasty retreat from Afghanistan. The Moscow Format’s statement and the meeting’s formal position strongly aligned with Beijing and Moscow’s strategic priorities, in which Pakistan clearly felt it had to acquiesce.
Yet, almost in the same breath, reports emerged that the powerful Army Chief, Field Marshal Asim Munir, has pitched a plan to US officials for American investors to build and operate a commercial port in Pasni, Balochistan. Pasni is critically located, a mere 70 miles from the mammoth China-backed Gwadar Port and close to the Iranian border, offering access to Pakistan’s claimed, allegedly vast, deposits of critical rare earth minerals. While officials insist the Pasni proposal is purely commercial and specifically excludes military use, its geopolitical symbolism is impossible to ignore. It is a direct counter to Chinese influence in a vital location on the Arabian Sea, providing Washington a valuable economic toehold near a flagship Chinese project.
The Pasni Paradox captures Pakistan’s current convolutions: Trying to sell a non-aligned, anti-bases principle to its eastern and northern partners, while simultaneously selling exclusive, long-term commercial access to its Western partner in the very same geostrategic backyard.
Pakistan’s current policy is driven not by shared values (does it possess any core political values beyond the domestic dominance of its military?) or enduring alliances (it is, after all, allied to both the US and China) but by a transactional calculus. The military-run establishment is focused on immediate diplomatic gains and financial benefits, using its geography as its only real currency.
Pakistan’s relationship with Beijing is structural, built on decades of defence cooperation and the massive CPEC investment. China is Pakistan’s lifeline, protecting it diplomatically at the UN and providing it real-time operational intelligence from satellites during Operation Sindoor, as well as planes and missiles, plus bankrolling its infrastructure. This means the Moscow Format’s anti-US military posture is non-negotiable — it is a core plank of the China-Pakistan strategic alignment. At the same time, the relationship with the US has always been opportunistic. Having found a “new benefactor” in a US President who operates on a client-regime model, Pakistan’s focus has shifted to maximising short-term benefits: Investment in minerals, IMF assistance, and a diplomatic shield against India. The Pasni offer, though billed as commercial, is the geoeconomic price for high-level US engagement.
There is also a domestic imperative: Pakistan’s economic fragility. It is severely import-dependent, needs constant inflows of foreign direct investment, and is desperate to monetise its untapped mineral wealth. Playing the US and China off each other is seen as the only viable path to attract capital flows necessary to stave off economic collapse. This strategy, while providing temporary relief, is fundamentally unsustainable. It inevitably risks eroding trust with both sides.
China understands the Pasni offer is a hedging strategy aimed at reducing over-dependence on the CPEC. Islamabad wants to show Beijing that it does have options. But if China perceives Pakistan as giving the US a significant strategic advantage, it could punish Islamabad by slowing the pace of CPEC investment, or worse, dialling down military support.
With the US, the problem is different. The Trump administration has made it clear that the one thing it values is fawning loyalty (witness Shehbaz Sharif’s cringe-worthy show at Sharm-el-Sheikh recently) and transactional clarity (“what’s in it for me?” Is the subtext of many a Trumpian pronouncement). Pakistan’s simultaneous endorsement of the anti-US Moscow Declaration will be seen as duplicity. A future administration, or even the current one, could abruptly withdraw economic or military support, reverting the relationship to its Trump 1.0-era default of mutual suspicion.
Pakistan’s manoeuvres intensify the strategic rivalry among the four major regional players: China, the US, Pakistan, and India. The Pasni port, if developed with US backing, effectively creates a maritime strategic quadrangle on the Makran coast, comprising Iran’s Chabahar Port (backed by India), Pakistan’s Gwadar (built and operated by China), and the newly proposed Pasni (backed by the US). This concentration of competing great power infrastructure in a volatile region like Balochistan — already plagued by an indigenous insurgency — exponentially raises the risk of proxy conflicts and internal destabilisation.
Pasni is not exactly located in a zone of tranquillity. Insurgent Baloch nationalist groups view all foreign infrastructure projects as the economic exploitation of their resources in the interests of the Punjabi military elite, without local benefit. By inviting a fresh layer of great power competition into the yet underdeveloped province, Pakistan’s military establishment risks fuelling the Balochistan fire, making the region potentially a new frontline in the Sino-American contest. A proxy “war” between an American and a Chinese port on the same coast would make for an extraordinary spectator sport for Pakistan’s neighbours.
Ultimately, Pakistan’s current geopolitical dance is a short-term survival tactic masquerading as a clever diplomatic strategy. While the transactional approach yields immediate benefits, it places an unsustainable burden on its diplomatic credibility and internal stability. The price of playing the three major powers against each other will eventually be paid in full: A loss of strategic autonomy, the betrayal of an “all-weather” friend, and the further destabilisation of its most volatile province. Too clever by half, Pakistan has potentially written itself a ticket to disaster.
The writer is MP, Thiruvananthapuram and Lok Sabha chairman, Parliamentary Standing Committee on External Affairs
Pakistan’s relationship with Beijing is structural, built on decades of defence cooperation and the massive CPEC investment.(Illustration: C R Sasikumar) 
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