Rishi Suri
Every state has its defining institutions. In India, it is democracy and enterprise. In the United States, it is innovation and rule of law. In Pakistan, it is neither democracy nor enterprise, but the Army. Not just as a military machine but as the country’s largest business conglomerate, dwarfing all competitors, strangling economic growth, and funding the one industry it truly excels in: terrorism.
A recent report by Pakistan’s Economic Policy and Business Development (EPBD) think tank has revealed that the Fauji Foundation, the business arm of the Pakistan Army, is worth a staggering $5.9 billion. This places it at the top of the Wealth Perception Index 2025, ahead of every civilian-run business in the country. While Pakistan limps along with average GDP growth of just 1.5% in the past three years, its generals are thriving.
A Military-Corporate Monopoly
The Fauji Foundation’s empire is sprawling. Its portfolio includes Mari Petroleum in oil and gas, Fauji Fertilizer (the largest fertilizer company in Pakistan), Fauji Cement, Askari Bank, and more than 30 industrial units. It has interests in power generation, LPG distribution, food, and even private security services. This is no side business, it is the beating corporate heart of Pakistan.
Contrast this with Pakistan’s largest civilian groups. Bestway (UBL Group), valued at $4.5 billion, runs cement and banking operations. The Yunus Brothers (Lucky Group) at $2.59 billion span textiles, cement, food, and energy. The Nishat Group, Engro, Meezan Bank, Arif Habib, and others round out the top ten. All are serious enterprises—but none can match the military in clout, reach, or immunity.
For while civilian companies must navigate Pakistan’s chaotic tax and regulatory environment, the Fauji Foundation enjoys blanket tax exemptions. Its consolidated profits, regardless of source, are shielded from taxation. In a country where even basic services collapse under lack of funds, the Army’s business wing is treated as a sovereign entity unto itself.
Crushing Civilian Enterprise
This rigged game ensures that genuine entrepreneurship struggles. Private giants like Packages Group, Sapphire Group, JDW Sugar, and Beaconhouse Schools are significant in their own right. Sapphire, for example, is one of Pakistan’s largest textile exporters, running vertically integrated manufacturing from yarn to garments. Yet despite global competitiveness, these firms face a domestic reality where the market is tilted toward military-owned enterprises.
The inevitable outcome is stagnation. Pakistan’s natural resources, human capital, and consumer base of 250 million people should create an environment for explosive growth. Instead, businesses suffocate under predatory military dominance. As economic expert Dr. Ikram ul Haq points out, “Apart from the Fauji Foundation, which enjoys tax exemptions, most companies in the list receive no government subsidies. These cannot be compared on the same scale.”
The Real Export: Terrorism
But this monopoly does more than distort Pakistan’s domestic economy. It funds Pakistan’s real export industry: terrorism. With guaranteed revenues, tax-free profits, and a captive market, the Army channels resources into its decades-old proxy wars, arming militants in Kashmir, sheltering the Taliban, and feeding networks that destabilize South Asia and beyond.
This symbiosis between military capitalism and terrorism explains why Pakistan has consistently refused to reform. Every IMF bailout is used not to restructure the economy, but to shore up reserves until the next tranche. Every civilian government is forced to play along or be toppled. And every year, new terror groups emerge, trained, financed, and shielded by the very institution that doubles as Pakistan’s biggest corporate house.
A Failing State
This is why Pakistan continues to inch closer to failed statehood. Its GDP growth lags far behind neighbors. Its industrial and agricultural output is in decline. Inflation and energy crises cripple ordinary citizens. And yet, the Army thrives, through Fauji Fertilizer, Fauji Cement, Askari Bank, and dozens of other enterprises.
A functioning economy requires competition, innovation, and investment. Pakistan has none of these in meaningful measure because its largest player has no interest in creating them. For the generals, every rupee earned in fertilizer or cement is another rupee available to bankroll militancy. Every civilian competitor beaten down is another reminder of who truly rules Pakistan.
The Paradox of Pakistan
There is, of course, a tragic irony. In a country with immense potential, fertile land, a youthful population, strategic location, the one institution with the capacity to dominate is also the one destroying it. The Army’s obsession with India and its addiction to jihad have turned Pakistan into a global pariah. International investors steer clear, except where they can partner with military-backed entities. Ordinary Pakistanis face dwindling opportunities, forced migration, or economic despair.
The message is unmistakable: Pakistan is not a nation with an Army. It is an Army with a nation, whose economy is its piggy bank and whose people are collateral.
The Road Ahead
Unless Pakistan breaks this cycle, its trajectory is set. Private businesses will continue to struggle under the weight of military monopolies. IMF loans will remain lifelines, not solutions. And terrorism will remain its most infamous export, poisoning its global reputation and deepening its internal decay.
The hard truth is that Pakistan is not just mismanaged, it is structurally designed to fail. As long as the Army is both the largest corporation and the most powerful political actor, the country’s economy cannot stabilize, its democracy cannot flourish, and its people cannot prosper.
The world must understand this reality: every bag of fertilizer sold by Fauji, every cement truck rolled out of its factories, and every profit untaxed is another brick in the edifice of Pakistan’s terror-exporting state. That is the real cost of letting the Army run Pakistan as its private enterprise.
Note – First Published in Global Order