By: Imran Farooq
In March 2022, Pakistan struck a historic deal with Mark Bristow to develop one of the world’s largest copper and gold mining projects. Three years later, the country finds itself prospecting for a different kind of treasure—digital gold—in the form of cryptocurrency mining. But unlike the dusty mines of Balochistan, this new venture glitters with more confusion than clarity.
The rise of the Pakistan Crypto Council (PCC) in early 2025 reflects the shifting global conversation around digital assets. Billed as a private-sector push to integrate blockchain and digital finance into Pakistan’s economic model, the PCC has been ambitious—perhaps overly so. From promoting crypto mining using idle electricity to signing flashy (yet non-binding) agreements with controversial international figures, the council’s initiatives have raised eyebrows and triggered a flurry of questions.
Let’s be clear: Pakistan currently bans cryptocurrencies. Both the State Bank of Pakistan (SBP) and the Ministry of Finance have repeatedly underscored this stance, warning against crypto trading, holding, or promotion. Their concerns are real—crypto’s anonymity can enable capital flight, money laundering, and terrorist financing, all of which pose grave risks to Pakistan’s fragile financial system. This hardline policy was reaffirmed in a recent National Assembly finance committee meeting, reinforcing the notion that crypto is still off-limits, at least officially.
So, how does one reconcile this official ban with the PCC’s bold forays into blockchain diplomacy?
This contradiction underscores Pakistan’s chronic problem: policy schizophrenia. On one hand, state institutions treat crypto as a national security risk. On the other, crypto evangelists court foreign partners—some with questionable track records—under the banner of digital innovation.
Take, for instance, the controversial visit by Binance founder Changpeng Zhao (CZ), who was convicted in the US for anti-money laundering violations and whose firm paid a record $4.3 billion fine. His reported PCC-facilitated trip to Pakistan wasn’t just tone-deaf; it was damaging. At a time when Pakistan is trying to clean up its international image, hosting a convicted crypto mogul sends the wrong message.
Then there’s the PCC’s much-hyped Letter of Intent with World Liberty Financial (WLF), a US-based crypto company with alleged ties to the Trump family. Critics argue this deal is less about blockchain and more about backchannel diplomacy—a political play disguised as fintech innovation. The involvement of Trump ally Steve Witkoff, now reportedly a US envoy, only deepens the suspicion that Pakistan is being drawn into a geopolitical game it barely understands.
And what of the much-touted surplus power argument? Pakistan has over 10,000 MW of idle generation capacity. Shouldn’t crypto mining put that to use?
Not quite. While countries like Venezuela and Kazakhstan have used cheap electricity to lure crypto miners, Pakistan is not competitive. Its industrial tariffs range between 10 to 15 cents per kWh, far above the sub-5 cent threshold needed to profitably mine digital currencies. Moreover, this electricity isn’t free—it’s costly and heavily subsidised.
If the government is willing to offer discounted energy for speculative mining operations, why not instead support data centres, cold storage for agriculture, green hydrogen production, IT parks, or EV infrastructure? These alternatives offer far more in return—jobs, exports, sustainability, and strategic development.
Crypto, in contrast, is volatile and short-term. It creates few jobs, encourages capital flight, and carries major legal and reputational risks.
Some voices have even floated the idea of Bitcoin as a strategic reserve asset. Sure, El Salvador made global headlines with this move—and even turned a tidy profit in recent months—but Pakistan is no El Salvador. Our economy is under IMF supervision. Our FATF record is sensitive. And our reserves are perilously thin. Holding Bitcoin—especially if acquired through confiscated or opaque channels—could easily backfire and jeopardise financial stability.
Which brings us back to the central question:
Should Pakistan pursue crypto mining at all?
The answer isn’t a binary yes or no. It’s about regulation, transparency, and national priorities. Until Pakistan builds a robust regulatory framework, with clearly defined roles, risks, and rewards, the crypto dream will remain more mirage than opportunity. The cost of entering the digital gold rush without rules could far outweigh any potential gains.
This isn’t a call to reject innovation. On the contrary, Pakistan should embrace blockchain and digital finance—but through measured, well-governed, and inclusive strategies, not shortcuts and political stunts. The tech economy can be transformative, but only if it is built on stable ground.
We’ve mined gold before. We know it takes patience, policy, and planning. The same holds true for digital gold. Right now, it seems Pakistan is rushing in with a shovel and no map.
The digital economy demands more than hype. It demands strategy. And time is running out.
Disclaimer: The views expressed are personal and do not reflect the position of this publication/ agency.
