 "Military or a mafia? How Pakistani generals prioritise money over defence")
Pakistan’s economic crisis is well known to the world. The country’s currency has tumbled, and foreign exchange reserves barely cover a month’s worth of imports.
Nearly half the country’s population lives on less than $3.20 a day, wages having never caught up to soaring inflation. The state teeters on the brink of insolvency, scrounging for IMF bailouts to keep the lights on.
And yet, while the average citizen struggles to buy flour and fuel, the army generals continue to live in sprawling mansions, overseeing a multibillion-dollar business empire that spans everything from cement to cornflakes.
Pakistan’s military, it seems, has perfected the fine art of extracting wealth from the state while giving very little in return.
It functions less like a traditional army and more like a well-oiled mafia syndicate—one where power is measured not in battlefield victories but in real estate holdings, foreign bank accounts, and lucrative business monopolies.
A Military That Eats First
The numbers speak for themselves. In 2024-25, Pakistan’s defence budget was set at PKR 2.13 trillion ($7.64 billion)—this, at a time when the government was slashing funding for health, education, and infrastructure.
A significant portion of this budget goes to “employee-related expenses”, a polite way of saying that the army takes care of its own: lavish salaries, lifetime pensions, and, of course, generous land grants to retiring officers. Military spending is one of the few areas of the Pakistani economy that never faces austerity. The country may default on its debt, but the generals will not downgrade their lifestyles.
Compare this to how the government treats ordinary citizens. When the IMF demands belt-tightening, it’s the public that bears the brunt of new taxes, subsidy cuts, and skyrocketing utility bills. The military, however, remains untouched. It is, after all, running the show.
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More ShortsThe Real Estate Racket
For an army that has lost enough battles to fill an encyclopaedia volume, Pakistan’s military has certainly acquired a lot of territory. It has just not been done in the way one might expect. Over decades, it has built a vast real estate empire under the guise of “welfare schemes” for retired personnel.
The DHAs, elite housing societies run by the military, dominate prime urban land across major cities. Officers receive plots at token prices, only to flip them for massive profits. In some cases, entire townships have been developed as part of this scheme.
The DHA Valley Islamabad scandal, where high-ranking officials colluded with private developers, was just one example of the military’s lucrative side business in property speculation.
But why stop at urban land? Retired generals are routinely gifted thousands of acres of agricultural land, often among the most fertile in the country. A leaked report from Credit Suisse bank in 2022 revealed that former army chief Gen Raheel Sharif received over 100 acres of prime farmland in Lahore upon retirement—a fitting reward for keeping the military’s business empire humming.
It’s a model that any self-respecting mafia would admire: control the land, sell it at a premium, and ensure that no one asks too many questions.
The Business of the Military
If real estate were not enough, Pakistan’s army also runs a sprawling commercial empire known as “Milbus” (Military Business).
Entities like the Fauji Foundation, Shaheen Foundation, and Army Welfare Trust operate in industries ranging from cement and banking to fertilisers and logistics. These are not mom-and-pop ventures; they are billion-dollar enterprises that enjoy tax exemptions, preferential contracts, and zero oversight.
To keep things in the proverbial famiglia—as the mafia loves to do—retired officers dominate the boards of these firms, ensuring that the wealth remains in military hands long after they’ve left active service. The Fauji Foundation, for instance, has sometimes been described as a military-run Fortune 500 company, with its top positions occupied almost exclusively by ex-generals.
The generals, of course, do not limit their financial dealings to Pakistan. The Pandora Papers leak in 2021 exposed multiple high-ranking military officials with offshore assets, luxury properties in London and Dubai, and multimillion-dollar business ventures abroad.
One of the more colourful cases involved Lt Gen Asim Saleem Bajwa, former head of Pakistan’s media wing, whose family was found to own dozens of Papa John’s pizza franchises in the US. Gen Bajwa is now better known as “General Papa John”.
A Parallel Government
Like any good mafia, the Pakistani military also ensures that no one challenges its supremacy. The army controls national security, foreign policy, and, when needed, civilian governments. No prime minister can survive without its blessing. Those who try—like Nawaz Sharif in 1999 or Imran Khan in 2022—are quickly shown the door (of jail).
Meanwhile, journalists and activists who expose military corruption face abductions, threats, or worse. The ISI (Inter-Services Intelligence) functions as an enforcement arm, ensuring that dissent is kept in check. When the military’s business dealings are questioned, newspapers are censored, TV anchors are sacked, and dissidents mysteriously disappear.
International lenders, including the IMF, have repeatedly called for greater transparency in Pakistan’s military finances, but these demands are met with silence. The army is simply too entrenched, too powerful, and too wealthy to be held accountable.
A Country Held Hostage
Pakistan’s economic crisis is not just the result of bad policy or global downturns— it is the natural outcome of a system where the military eats first, and the public gets what’s left.
The generals have no incentive to fix the economy because their wealth does not depend on national prosperity. Their money is tied to state resources, offshore accounts, and monopolistic businesses—not the success of Pakistan’s industries or workforce.
For decades, the military has warned Pakistanis that the country’s greatest threat comes from India, Afghanistan, or the US. But in reality, Pakistan’s most dangerous enemy is the institutionalised greed of its own military elite.
A traditional army exists to defend its country. A mafia exists to extract wealth, silence dissent, and maintain power at all costs. The Pakistani military has made its choice—and it is not national defence.
Lt Gen Dushyant Singh (Retd) is Director General, Centre for Land Warfare Studies (CLAWS). Views expressed in the above piece are personal and solely those of the author. They do not necessarily reflect Firstpost’s views.
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