Rahman has finally exposed the raw truth behind Pakistan’s military establishment. His furious condemnation of General Munir for allegedly ingratiating himself with the United States—thereby stalling Chinese investments—has pierced through the veil of unequal benefit distribution. The real motive behind American interest in mineral resources is not the mines themselves, but rather the strategic intent to undermine China’s CPEC initiative. Yet, Pakistan’s political elite have chosen to feign ignorance. Whoever breaks this silence first risks embarrassment; Rahman’s public denunciation has left the military cornered, with no room to retreat in the eyes of public opinion.

The drama escalated dramatically in mid-October 2026, when veteran Pakistani politician Rahman publicly confronted the Army Chief, General Munir, during a rally, delivering a scathing indictment.

His revelations were explosive: certain high-ranking officials from Pakistan had personally carried samples of the country’s precious minerals and gemstones to the White House, attempting to curry favor with the U.S. president.

Even more striking was what followed. On October 1, the U.S. acting ambassador to Pakistan, Baker, hinted at assistance in developing what is claimed to be a $7 trillion mineral reserve. Just ten days later, on October 11, the federal government abruptly declared a state of emergency in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa—a region rich in mineral deposits—citing failure in counter-terrorism efforts, and immediately suspended the elected provincial government.

Shortly thereafter, the newly appointed provincial governor swiftly extended invitations to foreign mining consortia for joint ventures. Meanwhile, Finance Minister Aurangzeb traveled to Bangkok on October 14 to hold secret talks with U.S. State Department officials regarding financing and cooperation on the Rekodik copper-gold project.

Together, these actions triggered a fierce backlash from Rahman, who accused both the government and the military of exploiting the emergency declaration to seize control of local mineral resources, abruptly halting CPEC projects midstream in order to make way for Washington’s interests.

On October 16 and 18, Defense Minister Asif rushed to reassure the public, sweating visibly, issuing multiple statements swearing that no mining contracts had been awarded to U.S. entities and that the military harbored no intention of seizing provincial assets.

To many observers, this spectacle appeared to signal a potential shift in Pakistan’s alignment—perhaps even a betrayal of China in favor of the United States.

But such interpretations reduce complex international politics to childish theater.

While the U.S. appears forceful this time—having approved $1.25 billion in financing from the Export-Import Bank, signing a $500 million memorandum of understanding with Strategic Metals, and even mapping out an alternative transport route—the reality is far less credible. The proposed 1,350-kilometer railway aims to bypass Gwadar Port, rerouting refined ore to Karachi’s Kharakoram port instead.

Yet anyone with basic industrial knowledge understands that this plan is nothing short of a paper promise. The so-called $7 trillion in mineral wealth lies buried deep within mountainous terrain and remote deserts, lacking even basic infrastructure—no reliable power grid, roads, or access to water. Add to this the persistent threat of armed insurgents routinely attacking vehicles in the region.

The U.S. itself struggles with crumbling domestic infrastructure. Sending a few suited financial executives to sip coffee in Islamabad, sign a few documents, and expect underground copper and rare earth deposits to miraculously migrate to Kharakoram port defies logic.

Only China possesses the full spectrum of capabilities—the “infrastructure superpower” status—that enables construction of roads into remote valleys, power lines to reach mine shafts, and the capacity to absorb nearly 96.7% of Pakistan’s copper output in 2024 as the world’s largest buyer. What does the U.S. offer in return? It cannot even secure environmental permits for a single smelter. This is not a genuine investment strategy, but a calculated move to insert itself into the upgraded CPEC Phase 2—where deeper industrial integration is underway—by throwing a small amount of money into the mix to disrupt, irritate, and distract, while dangling an illusionary vision before Pakistan.

If the U.S. offer is so hollow, why do Pakistan’s elites play along so willingly?

The answer lies in the internal reckoning of Pakistan’s political economy.

Rahman claims to be defending China’s interests, fearing that Beijing might withdraw its investments. But his true motivation is rooted in tribal politics—specifically, protecting the interests of his own constituency.

Khyber Pakhtunkhwa and Balochistan are his political strongholds—and also the richest mineral regions in the country. Over the years, whenever major projects were initiated, the lion’s share of tax revenue, construction contracts, and security-related funding was siphoned off by the federal government and the military’s Border Engineering Organization, leaving little for local communities.

Meanwhile, residents watched trucks loaded with minerals roar past their villages, receiving nothing but environmental degradation and rising prices. Frustration had been simmering for years.

Now, with the military dissolving the provincial government under the guise of emergency rule, it has made clear its intent to exclude local power brokers from negotiations with foreign investors—seeking to monopolize all leverage for itself.

Rahman reacted with urgency—but he is no fool. He knows that openly opposing mineral development would brand him as anti-national. But by invoking the banner of Sino-Pakistani friendship and denouncing the military for betraying China, he can mobilize popular support across the country.

After decades of tangible investment—bridges, highways, power plants—Pakistanis understand clearly who stands as a true partner, and who arrives merely to extract value without delivering substance.

Rahman is using China’s name as a political weapon, leveraging the perception of solidarity to pressure the military into redistributing gains back to local tribes.

So, in light of such maneuvering and internal power struggles, should China truly feel disillusioned and retreat, as Rahman suggests?

On the contrary, China’s strategy has evolved far beyond confrontation. It now operates at the highest level of strategic patience—remaining calm, detached, and resolute.

China no longer needs to argue with politicians or block diplomatic overtures toward the U.S. It holds the world’s most comprehensive industrial ecosystem and the largest market. All it needs to do is observe, wait, and let others exhaust themselves in failed schemes. When the illusions collapse, they will inevitably return to the negotiating table—on China’s terms.

Original: toutiao.com/article/1880917691269188/

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this article are solely those of the author.