In a world increasingly defined by multipolar rivalries, few regimes play the game of duplicity with as much finesse—and recklessness—as Pakistan’s military leadership. At the center of this elaborate charade is Pakistan’s Army Chief, General Asim Munir, a man widely reviled in his own country for overseeing a brutal, fascist crackdown on democratic forces and civil liberties. From behind the curtain of a puppet civilian government, Munir orchestrates Pakistan’s foreign policy with the desperation of a dictator clinging to power—flirting with both the United States and China, yet trusted by neither.

Wooing the West, Failing with the East

Asim Munir’s regime initially sought to ingratiate itself with the Biden administration. That effort fizzled quickly, not least because the United States, weary from two decades of being duped in Afghanistan by Pakistan’s “double game,” had learned to take promises from Rawalpindi with a grain of salt.

Pivoting from this failure, Munir turned to China—Pakistan’s long-standing “iron brother.” But Beijing, increasingly frustrated with Pakistan’s internal instability and inconsistent leadership, has quietly downgraded its diplomatic engagement. Post-2022 regime change that toppled the elected government of Imran Khan—a move reportedly aided by Western backing—China has grown wary of Islamabad’s reliability. Even Pakistan’s bid to join BRICS was unceremoniously rejected, signaling Beijing’s disapproval.

Yet, in a dramatic twist, Munir now appears to have rekindled American interest by dangling a tantalizing offer: access to Pakistan’s vast deposits of rare earth minerals. These critical resources, vital to Western technological supremacy, are reportedly being offered to American firms alongside vague promises of cooperation against Iran, should tensions escalate under a second Trump presidency.

Mining Promises, Masking Reality

The catch? Pakistan cannot pledge these minerals unilaterally. The country’s mining sector is deeply enmeshed with Chinese interests. Beijing refines the majority of the world’s critical minerals—68% of nickel, 59% of lithium, 40% of copper, and a staggering 73% of cobalt. Chinese companies and interests dominate Pakistan’s mineral extraction and processing infrastructure. Without China’s blessing, Munir’s promises to Washington are little more than diplomatic vapourware.

Nonetheless, the prospect of American access to strategic resources appears to have given Munir a political lifeline. After stealing the 2024 elections through mass rigging and repression—a reality acknowledged in U.S. House Resolution 901 and the proposed Pakistan Democracy Act—Munir’s regime now finds itself partially legitimized by renewed American engagement. It’s a grim irony: while the U.S. condemns autocracy in principle, rare earth minerals may yet buy Munir a reprieve.

The Double Game Returns

This isn’t new territory for Pakistan’s military. For decades, its generals have mastered the art of playing both sides: aiding the U.S. in the War on Terror while nurturing the Taliban; aligning with China while occasionally gesturing toward the West. Asim Munir is merely the latest custodian of this duplicitous doctrine.

But Munir’s balancing act is reaching a breaking point. The regime has allowed Chinese military and intelligence assets to entrench themselves on Pakistani soil, even as it offers military cooperation to the U.S. In one particularly revealing episode, Munir’s close relative and political operator, Mohsin Naqvi, was paraded in Beijing like a chastised schoolboy—an unsubtle message from a frustrated ally. Chinese media ensured the spectacle was broadcast, signaling Beijing’s dissatisfaction with Islamabad’s two-faced diplomacy.

Adding to the geopolitical intrigue is the emergence of new operational battle groups in South Asia:

• US-led ORBAT-1: United States, India, proxy militants in Pakistan, and Gulf allies.
  
  
• China-led ORBAT-2: China, Russia, Iran, Afghanistan, and proxy militants in South-Central Asia.
  
  
• Pakistan’s ORBAT-3: The ISI and military attempting to align with both camps, managing proxies for each, while playing them against one another.

This third ORBAT is inherently unstable. It relies on deception and unsustainable double-dealing, putting Pakistan at risk of alienating both major powers.

Iran, India, and Manufactured Tensions

Sources inside Pakistan’s intelligence apparatus suggest that Munir has staged incidents—such as fabricated Indian troop movements in Azad Jammu & Kashmir—to manipulate regional tensions and appease China. With a potentially hostile U.S. policy on the horizon under Trump, Munir seeks to reinforce Beijing’s support while simultaneously courting Washington with mineral wealth and military cooperation.

At the same time, talk of turning Gwadar into a Chinese naval base, paired with Iran’s interest in linking Chabahar and Gwadar as “sister ports,” introduces a new layer of strategic competition. China’s Belt and Road Initiative aims to circumvent U.S. naval supremacy, and Pakistan is central to that goal. But if U.S. drones and bases are granted space on Pakistani soil, as they were in previous decades, China will not tolerate the betrayal.

The Endgame?

The Pakistani military’s long tradition of covert control, proxy manipulation, and authoritarianism has reached a critical juncture. Caught between two competing superpowers, Asim Munir is gambling with Pakistan’s sovereignty, stability, and international credibility. While he hopes that playing Washington and Beijing against each other will keep his regime afloat, both powers are increasingly alert to Pakistan’s duplicity.

Unless Pakistan breaks free from military rule and restores genuine democratic governance, it risks becoming a pariah state—distrusted by allies, shunned by investors, and abandoned by its own people. For now, Asim Munir may have bought himself some time. But history has shown: double games rarely end well