Opinion | China–Pakistan Economic Corridor: A Strategic Gamble Turning Into a Regional Burden

CPEC has locked Pakistan into a complex web of obligations that future generations will be forced to navigate.

When the China–Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC) was launched with great fanfare in 2015, it was touted as a transformative project that would redefine Pakistan’s economic fortunes and position the country as the central gateway to global trade. Beijing described it as the flagship of its Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), a shining example of cross-border cooperation and a path to shared prosperity. Islamabad hailed it as a once-in-a-century opportunity that would solve energy shortages, create millions of jobs, and modernize infrastructure. Nearly a decade later, however, the sheen has worn off, replaced by growing public disillusionment, stalled projects, unsustainable debts, and mounting concerns that CPEC is less a development package and more a geopolitical trap with long-term repercussions for Pakistan and the broader region.
At its core, CPEC was framed as a corridor stretching from China’s Xinjiang region to Pakistan’s Gwadar Port on the Arabian Sea. The ambitious plan sought to build highways, power plants, industrial zones, pipelines, and communication networks that would give China direct access to warm waters while revitalizing Pakistan’s struggling economy. Yet the reality on the ground paints a far more complicated and troubling picture. Instead of generating broad-based growth, the project has increasingly been perceived as an instrument of Chinese strategic influence, overshadowing Pakistan’s sovereignty and pushing the country deeper into economic dependence.
One of the biggest criticisms leveled against CPEC is its financial opacity. Many agreements were signed behind closed doors, without public disclosure or parliamentary scrutiny. Even senior Pakistani officials admitted they did not have clarity on the exact cost structure, loan terms, or the profit mechanisms guaranteed to Chinese companies. As details eventually emerged, it became evident that most CPEC investments came in the form of expensive loans rather than grants. Pakistan, already burdened with chronic fiscal deficits, found itself committing to repay billions in debt and guaranteed returns at high interest rates. This has fuelled fears that the country could fall into a debt trap similar to Sri Lanka, where inability to repay Chinese loans ultimately led to the loss of strategic assets.
The economic promises attached to CPEC have also failed to materialize as expected. The industrial zones that were supposed to attract foreign investors remain largely inactive. The envisioned job creation proved far more limited, with a large share of skilled positions going to Chinese workers. Local industries complained that cheap Chinese imports, facilitated by CPEC connectivity, were undermining domestic production. Even the energy projects, initially celebrated for ending Pakistan’s electricity shortages, are now viewed with skepticism. The high tariffs and capacity payments owed to Chinese power producers have created immense pressure on Pakistan’s power sector, contributing to the country’s crippling circular debt. Instead of solving structural issues, CPEC has in many ways deepened Pakistan’s financial vulnerabilities.
Gwadar, the jewel of the corridor, stands as a symbol of unfulfilled promises. While China gained a strategic port that enhances its access to the Indian Ocean, the people of Gwadar saw little improvement in their daily lives. Water shortages, unemployment, lack of healthcare, and minimal local participation in development projects led to widespread protests. The presence of heavy security, necessitated by threats to Chinese workers, has turned Gwadar into a militarized zone—an arrangement deeply resented by locals who feel alienated in their own land.
CPEC has not only impacted Pakistan internally; it has significantly altered the geopolitical landscape of South Asia and beyond. India has strongly objected to the corridor, especially because parts of it pass through Gilgit-Baltistan, a territory India considers illegally occupied by Pakistan. New Delhi views CPEC as a strategic encirclement, deepening China’s presence in its neighborhood and strengthening Sino-Pakistani military cooperation. This has contributed to heightened tensions between India, China, and Pakistan, adding another layer of instability to an already volatile region.
For smaller South Asian nations, CPEC and the broader Belt and Road Initiative set a precedent that is being critically reassessed. Countries like Nepal, Myanmar, Maldives, and Sri Lanka have witnessed the consequences of debt-driven infrastructure investments. As nations become more aware of the political strings attached to Chinese financing, they are increasingly cautious about aligning too closely with Beijing’s economic ambitions. This shift has triggered a broader conversation about sovereignty, economic independence, and the hidden costs of foreign-funded mega-projects.
Globally, CPEC is often cited as an example of China’s strategic use of infrastructure diplomacy to advance geopolitical interests. Critics argue that Beijing’s model prioritizes access, influence, and control rather than sustainable development. Gwadar’s location near key maritime routes gives China a vantage point in the Arabian Sea, raising concerns among major global powers. The United States, European Union, Japan, and Australia have all expressed apprehensions that CPEC could alter the balance of power in the Indo-Pacific region. This has led to competing global connectivity initiatives, transforming infrastructure development into a battleground of strategic competition.
Within Pakistan, the impact of CPEC on domestic politics has been equally significant. Political parties have accused each other of compromising national interests, mishandling negotiations, and failing to protect local industries. The security establishment’s dominant role in CPEC’s planning and execution has raised concerns about transparency and civilian oversight. Moreover, the concentration of projects in Punjab during early phases created resentment among other provinces, particularly Balochistan and Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, who felt marginalized and exploited.
The rise in insurgent attacks targeting Chinese workers underscores another dimension of the crisis: the local populations’ loss of faith in the project. Anti-CPEC sentiments in Balochistan, driven by fears of demographic change and resource exploitation, have grown sharper. In Gilgit-Baltistan and Pakistan-occupied Kashmir, people complain about land seizures, environmental degradation, and denial of economic benefits. Instead of uniting the country, CPEC’s uneven implementation has exacerbated internal divisions.
At the global level, CPEC has become a cautionary tale of how large-scale foreign-funded infrastructure projects can reshape not only economic landscapes but also political and strategic realities. For Pakistan, the corridor has brought mixed outcomes at best and growing liabilities at worst. The hopes of rapid prosperity have given way to concerns about unsustainable debts, dependency on China, and loss of control over key assets. Rather than catalyzing economic renewal, CPEC has locked Pakistan into a complex web of obligations that future generations will be forced to navigate.
As the world increasingly recognizes the complexities surrounding CPEC, the project stands as a warning of the risks associated with opaque agreements, geopolitical entanglements, and development strategies driven more by foreign interests than national priorities. Pakistan’s challenge now is to reassess its commitments, ensure transparency, and adopt a development model that prioritizes sovereignty, sustainability, and the well-being of its citizens over strategic advantage for external powers.
aatiflonekashmir@gmail.com