News Desk
When China launched its ambitious Belt and Road Initiative (BRI) in 2013, Beijing framed it as a transformative force in global development—an unprecedented investment in roads, railways, ports, and power plants that would uplift economies across Asia, Africa, and beyond. A decade later, the reality tells a different story: unfinished projects, mounting debt, and growing international skepticism have turned the BRI into a cautionary tale.
In country after country, what was once hailed as a golden opportunity has become a financial and political burden. Italy, the only G7 nation to join the BRI, formally withdrew from the initiative in 2023, acknowledging that the promised economic benefits had never materialized. India never joined, seeing it as a strategic threat. Brazil, after years of engagement, has quietly shifted away. Even Pakistan, perhaps China’s closest partner in the project, is now grappling with the fallout of billions of dollars in Chinese loans and stalled infrastructure projects.
The China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC), once envisioned as the BRI’s crown jewel, has turned into a case study in unfulfilled promises. The much-hyped Gwadar Port remains largely idle, plagued by poor planning and security concerns. Critical transportation links, such as the Karachi-Lahore Motorway, are incomplete. Meanwhile, Pakistan’s debt to China has ballooned to a staggering $69 billion, raising fears that the country may be forced into further economic concessions just to stay afloat.
The problems of the BRI extend far beyond Pakistan. Across Southeast Asia, more than $50 billion in promised infrastructure remains undelivered. A recent study by the Lowy Institute found that only 35% of Chinese infrastructure projects in the region have been completed, compared to Japan’s 64% success rate and the Asian Development Bank’s 53%. This raises serious questions about the competence—and the true intent—of China’s economic expansion.
The most alarming cases involve countries that have fallen into what critics call “debt-trap diplomacy.” The starkest example remains Sri Lanka’s Hambantota Port. After borrowing over $1 billion from China for a project of questionable economic value, Sri Lanka found itself unable to repay its loans. The result? Beijing took control of the port on a 99-year lease, a move widely seen as a strategic land grab rather than a legitimate business deal.
Similarly, Laos, struggling under the weight of its BRI-related debt, was forced to cede 90% control of its national electricity grid to a Chinese state-owned company in 2020. The country’s $6 billion Boten-Vientiane railway—intended to integrate Laos into China’s broader infrastructure network—has done little to alleviate its financial troubles. Instead, the project has left the country even more dependent on Beijing, both economically and politically.
For Beijing, the BRI was never just about infrastructure. It was always a tool for expanding influence. By financing massive projects, China ensured that recipient nations remained dependent on Chinese credit, Chinese companies, and Chinese political goodwill. Many of these projects were designed not only to benefit host nations but also to serve China’s long-term strategic goals.
A common pattern has emerged: Chinese firms build the infrastructure, often using Chinese labor and materials, which means that much of the investment never truly benefits the local economy. At the same time, these projects undermine domestic industries. Cambodia, Nepal, and Burma have all seen their local markets flooded with cheap Chinese imports, making it nearly impossible for homegrown businesses to compete.
Security concerns have also grown. Many BRI projects, including ports and logistics hubs, have dual-use potential—meaning they could be converted for military purposes if China chose to do so. The expansion of Chinese-built ports along the Indian Ocean, from Sri Lanka to Djibouti, has heightened fears that Beijing is using economic agreements to mask a broader military strategy.
Despite China’s claims of success, the reality is clear: the BRI is in retreat. In 2023, Belt and Road engagement completely ceased in 19 countries, including key economies like Turkey and Kenya. While Beijing’s total outbound investment technically increased by 10% in 2024, much of this growth came from non-BRI activities, such as high-tech industry acquisitions and energy deals outside the initiative’s framework.
For host nations, the cost of China’s “friendship” is becoming too high to ignore. Beyond the financial burdens, countries are waking up to the loss of economic and political sovereignty that comes with Chinese investment. Sri Lanka, Pakistan, and Laos now serve as cautionary examples of how BRI involvement often leads to increased vulnerability rather than development.
China’s approach to global infrastructure has always been about more than just construction—it has been a means of extending influence, securing resources, and embedding itself deeply into foreign economies. But as the initiative falters, it is increasingly being recognized for what it truly is: a political tool wrapped in the language of economic development.
As more countries reassess their relationship with Beijing, the unraveling of the Belt and Road Initiative marks a significant moment in China’s global ambitions. What was once sold as a win-win partnership is now widely seen as a one-sided arrangement benefiting China at the expense of its partners. The lesson is clear: infrastructure investment without transparency, accountability, and mutual benefit is not development—it is domination.
