Maersk, the world’s largest container shipping line, has discreetly entered the ongoing dispute between India and Pakistan by imposing “Emergency Operational Cost Recovery” surcharges on all cargo entering and leaving Pakistan. Beginning 21 May, clients will see an extra $500 per box on exports to Western markets and $300 on inbound shipments; by 13 June, “regulated trades” (think the EU or the United States) will carry the same fees, with only Vietnam granted a reprieve until 29 May.
Why has there been such a sudden surge in surcharges?
Earlier this month, India effectively cut off maritime traffic and port services for Pakistani goods—part of a broader diplomatic escalation that has snarled operations at Karachi and Port Qasim, Pakistan’s two largest container gateways. The result: vessels stuck at anchor, box terminals running three-to-four-day backups, and carriers scrambling to recoup the cost of idled equipment and re-routing by air or land. Maersk’s move mirrors those of Mediterranean Shipping Company (MSC), which slapped an $800 per-box levy on westbound Pakistan exports on 13 May, and Hapag-Lloyd, which has also imposed emergency fees across the region.
Beyond the box-rate math
At first glance, $500 may look like pocket change against a $25,000 cargo load—but multiply that by 1,000 boxes, and Pakistan’s exporters face an extra half-million dollars per sailing. In 2023, Pakistan’s total exports reached approximately $36 billion, with textiles, its primary export, accounting for over half of this amount, valued at approximately $18 billion last year. These surcharges could significantly increase the profit margins of family-run knitwear mills in Faisalabad or bed-linen workshops in Karachi.
A shipping saga with historical echoes
Container liners typically introduce surcharges under extraordinary circumstances: think “Red Sea Emergency Contingency” fees during the Yemen conflict or “Pandemic Surcharges” at the height of COVID-19. Maersk’s internal bulletin describes these levies as necessary to offset “additional direct and indirect costs” wrought by network disruptions—an all-too-familiar refrain for shippers the world over. But for Pakistan, this is its first brush with such draconian ocean-freight add-ons since the 1971 Indo-Pak war, and it comes on the heels of global inflationary pressures that have already pushed average container rates up by 60 percent since 2021.
Who pays—and who bears the fallout?
While Maersk and its competitors shift the responsibility to shippers, many economists express concern that this burden could ultimately impact Pakistani consumers, potentially reducing the country’s export competitiveness. Textile exporters, already grappling with a 29 percent tariff hike on U.S. apparel imports and energy shortages at home, may be forced to renegotiate contracts or absorb part of the surcharge to keep key buyers in Europe and North America.
At the same time, analysts warn of a domino effect: higher freight costs could discourage inbound investment, as multinationals balk at slower turnaround times and unpredictable delivery schedules. Even Pakistan’s burgeoning e-commerce sector—which handled over 300,000 parcels monthly pre-cut-off—could see cross-border shoppers deterred by steep shipping fees.
Looking ahead
Will Maersk’s surcharge be a one-off tactical response or a longer-term lever in a fraught India–Pakistan relationship? Much depends on whether New Delhi eases port restrictions and whether Islamabad can negotiate corridors—perhaps via Iran’s Chabahar port—to bypass Indian-blocked sea routes. In the meantime, Maersk and its peers have made clear: when geopolitics interrupts the supply chain, the extra cost doesn’t vanish—it simply shows up on the bill.
As Pakistan’s exporters scramble to absorb or pass on these fees, one thing is certain: the ocean freight market will be watching closely. If today’s $500 emergency levy becomes tomorrow’s standard surcharge, the very calculus of global trade could shift—one container at a time.
