Pakistan’s economy is sinking deeper into crisis, with the latest trade data showing just how fragile the country’s foundations have become. In September 2025, export earnings dropped by almost 12 percent year-on-year, falling to just over $2.5 billion, while imports rose 14 percent to nearly $6 billion. This resulted in a trade deficit of $3.34 billion in a single month, one of the largest in recent years.[1] Over the first quarter of fiscal year 2025, the deficit increased to more than $9.3 billion, a 33 percent rise compared to the same period last year.[2] These figures reveal a grim reality: Pakistan is importing far more than it can pay for, while its export base is shrinking. The latest data makes clear that the promises of economic revival, much hyped by the country’s military rulers and their civilian allies, have failed. The Special Investment Facilitation Council (SIFC), a flagship initiative launched with much fanfare under Field Marshal Syed Asim Munir, was intended to attract foreign direct investment and stabilize the economy. Instead, it has proven hollow, as the economy deteriorates and ordinary Pakistanis bear the brunt of soaring prices and vanishing jobs.

The SIFC was designed as a one-stop platform for foreign investors, run directly by the army and sold as proof that the military could fix what politicians could not. The generals promised that investors from the Gulf, China, and the West would line up to take advantage of opportunities in Pakistan.[3] Yet more than a year later, SIFC has attracted little meaningful investment. Gulf countries have preferred to invest in safer, more stable markets. Western firms have avoided Pakistan’s uncertain legal and regulatory environment. Chinese companies remain primarily interested in resource extraction and infrastructure projects linked to the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor, which benefits the Pakistani military and Chinese state firms, but brings little relief to the wider Pakistani economy. For most outsiders, Pakistan remains a risky and unappealing destination, plagued by political instability, corruption, and a military-led system that is unpredictable.

The lack of foreign investment is evident in the withdrawal of major global corporations. Microsoft, which had been operating in Pakistan for 25 years, announced its exit in 2025, citing an unpredictable business environment.[4] Uber had already reduced its operations in Pakistan, and Procter & Gamble downsized its presence.[5] For Pakistanis, these exits mean lost jobs, diminished services, and a further decline in confidence in the business climate. Each company that departs signals to others that Pakistan is not safe for long-term commitments. Domestic entrepreneurs also face stifling conditions – unreliable electricity, arbitrary taxation, and constant government interference in economic decisions.

At the same time, Pakistan’s government has chosen to increase military spending. In its 2025-26 budget, Islamabad raised defense expenditures by 20 percent, reaching around $9 billion.[6] This decision came even as spending on health, education, and infrastructure stagnated or declined. The priorities are unmistakable: the generals ensure that the army is well-fed, equipped, and funded, while ordinary citizens are left to endure power outages, crumbling schools, and unaffordable food. Pakistan’s tax base is narrow, with only a small portion of the population paying direct taxes. Instead of reforming the system, the state funnels what little revenue it collects into the military. This imbalance makes it harder for the economy to grow, as productive sectors are starved of support. The increase in the defense budget is not just a number; it reflects how deeply the army has entrenched itself in every aspect of Pakistan’s economic life.

The reality is that generals cannot run an economy. Pakistan’s army has expanded its control over various industries, including cement, fertilizer, banking, and agriculture, but it has never been able to achieve sustainable growth. The military mindset prioritizes control and security over productivity and efficiency. This is why the country is constantly in need of bailouts from the International Monetary Fund. Instead of addressing structural problems, such as low productivity in textiles, overdependence on imports, and weak tax collection, the army resorts to temporary fixes and heavy borrowing. The latest trade data proves that this model has collapsed. Exports are not keeping pace, imports remain high, and remittances alone cannot cover the gap. Pakistan is burning through its reserves to keep the economy afloat, leaving it vulnerable to another balance-of-payments crisis.

The public is increasingly aware of the failures. In major cities and towns, protests are becoming more frequent. Citizens are demanding affordable food, electricity, and jobs. The promises made under SIFC have created more skepticism than hope. For many, it is now clear that the military’s promises of reviving the economy were empty slogans to consolidate its power further. People watch as the Army generals invest millions in expensive diplomatic campaigns abroad, hiring lobbyists in Washington and London to improve Pakistan’s image, while the domestic economy deteriorates. The contrast is infuriating for the public: lavish spending on influence-building overseas, but no resources for schools, hospitals, or subsidies at home. This is why ordinary Pakistanis are now openly questioning the legitimacy of a system where unelected generals control their economic destiny.

Field Marshal Munir’s speeches about reviving growth through military-led initiatives lack supporting evidence. The SIFC has failed to attract investors. The exits of major multinational companies highlight a complete lack of trust in Pakistan’s policymakers. While the defense budget increases, the economy continues to decline. Trade figures reveal a worsening deficit that threatens financial stability, and none of this indicates a revival of Pakistan’s economy. The root issue is that the military establishment views the economy not as a system to develop for the people but as a tool to maintain its own power and privileges. Generals can control borders and politics, but they cannot create exports, attract investors, or generate growth. For ordinary Pakistanis, the consequences are already visible in the form of higher prices, fewer jobs, and a deteriorating standard of living. Protests will continue to grow and so will anger among civilians. Unless power shifts away from the military, Pakistan’s future will be defined not by revival but by collapse.