Pakistan Today and Communist Power (The China)

Pakistan today finds itself in a dance with contradiction. On one hand, it calls China its “iron brother,” praising a friendship that is said to be higher than the Himalayas and deeper than the oceans. On the other hand, beneath this rhetoric lies an uneasy ideological tension. China is Communist in name, though capitalist in practice; Pakistan is capitalist in structure, though authoritarian in governance. Both lean on each other, yet neither truly resembles the other. This uneasy alliance capitalism married to communism, feudalism tethered to state control defines the geopolitics of Pakistan today.

Bhutto’s Tilt and the Strategic Bridge

The story is not new. Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, sensing the limitations of leaning only on the United States after the 1965 war, opened the doors to Beijing. He called it “bilateralism,” but in reality it was desperation Pakistan needed a counterweight to India, and Washington’s aid was drying up. China saw in Pakistan something larger than friendship: a bridge to the West. Through Pakistan, Beijing entered the diplomatic chessboard of Cold War politics.

Bhutto’s gamble worked: weapons, economic assistance, and diplomatic cover flowed from Beijing. For the first time, Pakistan had a partner willing to challenge both India and the Soviet Union. The US grew wary, but Pakistan had made its choice: survival demanded pragmatism.

It is often said that Washington or Beijing “control” Pakistan. That is far from the truth. Neither superpower has full control only influence. After 9/11, the US influence peaked when Pakistan was pressured into joining the “War on Terror.” Aid packages and military cooperation tied Islamabad to Washington, but it was always a relationship of fear and money, not trust.

Today, with Afghanistan’s war over and US aid shrinking, Pakistan has turned again to China. Beijing’s ambitions an overland route to the Arabian Sea, a buffer against India, a Belt and Road jewel intersect perfectly with Pakistan’s desperate need for investment and global relevance.

And yet, at the heart of this alliance sits a paradox. Pakistan is a capitalist state dominated by 22 families who own most of the land. Feudal lords, industrial dynasties, and political barons control the parliament. Power is inherited, not earned. Nepotism and cronyism ensure that the same surnames dominate politics, while millions remain landless laborers.

China, at least in its revolutionary past, claimed to destroy feudalism. In 1949, landlords were overthrown and collectivization was imposed. Pakistan, however, preserved its landlords. Where China eliminated feudal elites, Pakistan glorified them, giving them seats in the assemblies.

This ideological difference simmers quietly in the background. For China, Pakistan is a partner but also a reminder of what it never wanted to become: a land where dynasties and debt-bonded farmers still define the countryside.

Of course, the irony is that modern China itself is hardly “Communist” in the classical sense. Jack Ma, the billionaire founder of Alibaba, is worth billions of dollars. In pure communism, he would not exist. China now has one of the highest inequality rates in the world, higher than many capitalist countries. Property, wealth, and luxury dominate urban China.

If communism means the abolition of private wealth, then Beijing has abandoned it. What remains is state authoritarianism dressed in Communist rhetoric. What motivates Pakistanis to follow a system that even China has diluted on its own soil? That is the ideological question no one dares to ask.

And yet, Pakistan itself often flirts with socialist controls. Consider the wheat flour crisis: the government fixes the price, but in the open market it is sold far higher. Citizens line up at “utility stores” for rations, just as they might in a socialist economy. Instead of ensuring free availability, the state forces queues, draining dignity. Restrictions on speech, internet censorship, and curbs on dissent give Pakistan a flavor of Communist authoritarianism without the efficiency that Beijing brings.

This is the contradiction: Pakistan rejects communism in principle, yet lives parts of it in practice. China rejects capitalism in theory, yet lives most of it in reality.

CPEC: Corridor or Trap?

The China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC) is the symbol of this love-hate bond. For China, it is strategy: bypassing maritime chokepoints, ensuring secure access to the Arabian Sea, extending its influence into the Middle East. For Pakistan, it is survival: loans, roads, ports, electricity projects.

But here lies the danger. For Pakistan’s feudal-capitalist elite, CPEC projects are just another arena for patronage, contracts, and corruption. Instead of national revival, money is siphoned into personal fortunes. The system does not reward efficiency it rewards networks. Where China brings collective planning, Pakistan answers with personal greed.

No discussion of Pakistan-China ties is complete without India. Beijing needs Pakistan to keep India occupied. Islamabad needs Beijing to keep India in check. This shared enemy cements the bond, but it also masks the deeper differences. While China’s grand strategy spans oceans and continents, Pakistan’s foreign policy shrinks to one obsession: India. Thus, the “iron brotherhood” sometimes looks like a marriage of convenience strategic for China, existential for Pakistan.

Ordinary Pakistanis admire China as a reliable partner, especially compared to the perceived betrayals of the West. Yet there is also scepticism: CPEC roads do not feed the poor, Chinese loans must be repaid, and the system of feudal capitalism remains untouched. For many, China is less a savior than a lifeline tied with conditions.

At the same time, Pakistanis see their own state leaning toward authoritarianism silencing dissent, rationing essentials, policing speech. Some call this “soft communism,” others call it plain misgovernance. Either way, the contradiction is felt in daily life.

So where does this leave Pakistan today? In a paradox. An Islamic Republic with a capitalist-feudal structure leans on a Communist power that itself has embraced inequality and free markets. The alliance is celebrated in speeches, but beneath the surface it is a struggle of systems: feudalism vs socialism, capitalism vs communism, pragmatism vs ideology.

If managed wisely, Pakistan can turn this paradox into strength balancing East and West, drawing from both systems, and escaping dependency. If mismanaged, it risks becoming a client state, caught between a decaying capitalist elite at home and a Communist power abroad.

The irony is hard to miss. Pakistan looks to China for salvation, but China cannot give Pakistan what Pakistan refuses to do for itself: dismantle feudalism, curb corruption, and distribute resources fairly. No iron brotherhood can substitute for internal reform.

Pakistan today survives on contradictions. It lives in a capitalist body but often acts in a communist shadow. It calls China its brother, yet their systems clash at every level. This is not a friendship of equals, nor of shared ideology it is a partnership of necessity, born of survival. Whether it remains a path to prosperity or decays into dependency depends not on Beijing, but on Islamabad’s courage to confront its own demons.