When Pakistan’s Army Chief sat down with Donald Trump in Washington this summer, it wasn’t just a polite exchange between old strategic partners. It was a recalibration of power—one that placed Balochistan’s mineral wealth at the center of a new geopolitical contest.

For years, Pakistan’s military elite have played a delicate balancing act between economic dependency on China and an uneasy strategic relationship with the United States. With domestic finances strained and political legitimacy fragile, Pakistan’s generals needed a new source of leverage. Rare earth minerals—copper, lithium, and critical metals indispensable to advanced technologies—offered exactly that.

Trump’s political resurgence brought a timely opportunity. His administration, eager to challenge China’s dominance in global supply chains, opened the door for a transactional partnership. Pakistan positioned itself as a potential supplier of rare earths, offering the minerals under its military control in Balochistan as a counterweight to Chinese monopoly. The handshake between Trump’s inner circle and Pakistan’s military leadership was more than symbolic—it marked the opening move in a resource-driven realignment.

But this emerging alliance lands in a complex and volatile regional landscape. For China, Pakistan has long been a strategic ally, a lynchpin in its Belt and Road Initiative. Beijing has poured billions into Pakistani infrastructure, particularly in Balochistan, through the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC). The prospect of American-backed rare earth ventures in the same territory threatens not just economic interests but strategic footholds.

China’s likely response will be twofold. Economically, Beijing could tighten its grip on existing projects, deepen financial commitments, and expand its control over infrastructure critical to mineral extraction. Strategically, it may pressure Islamabad behind closed doors, leveraging debt obligations and diplomatic influence to block or limit American access.

At the same time, Beijing might accelerate its quiet understanding with certain factions in Pakistan’s establishment—offering incentives to maintain its privileged position. The competition over Balochistan’s resources could also spill into proxy confrontations, with China maneuvering through political and intelligence channels to counterbalance any American-backed incursions.

Regionally, this dynamic is poised to unsettle already fragile equations. India watches with suspicion as Pakistan courts Washington, fearing a renewed military alignment that could embolden Islamabad on traditional fault lines like Kashmir. For the Gulf states, particularly those invested in Pakistan’s stability, this shifting axis raises concerns about security and economic coherence in a region already riddled with rivalry.

At the heart of this unfolding contest is Balochistan itself—a province rich in resources but scarred by insurgency, repression, and decades of neglect. The military’s grip over Balochistan’s economy, politics, and security means any resource deal—American, Chinese, or otherwise—will likely be brokered at gunpoint, without local consent. The risk of intensifying insurgent violence and deepening anti-state sentiment grows with every foreign handshake that excludes the people of Balochistan from decisions about their own land.

Trump’s interest in Pakistan’s minerals aligns with his transactional view of diplomacy. For him, rare earths are a bargaining chip—a means to recalibrate trade balances, weaken China’s strategic hold, and bolster American industry. For Pakistan’s generals, the deal offers a lifeline—fresh economic engagement with Washington, potential military concessions, and a new narrative of indispensability.

But geopolitical games played over Balochistan come with dangerous consequences. Deals made in capitals risk inflaming tensions on the ground, where insurgents see foreign partnerships as colonial extraction by other means. China’s reaction, whether economic retaliation or covert pressure, could further entangle Pakistan in a contest it may be ill-prepared to manage.

What’s emerging is a modern Great Game—one fought not over borders, but over the minerals that power modern economies and militaries. And once again, it is the people of Balochistan who stand on the fault line between global ambitions and local repression.

As Pakistan’s generals extend their hand to Washington and Trump seizes his chance to outmaneuver Beijing, a new chapter of competition unfolds—one that risks turning Balochistan into a geopolitical battleground, where minerals, not people, define the stakes.