The Big Baloch Question

PAKISTAN HAS SUFFERED many shocking and sophisticated terrorist attacks over the past few decades. These include the 2016 Easter bombing in a Lahore park, the 2014 Army Public School massacre in Peshawar, the 2014 assault on Karachi’s airport, the 2013 blasts at a Quetta billiards hall, the 2011 siege of the Mehran naval air force base in Karachi, the 2009 attack on the military’s general headquarters in Rawalpindi, and the 2008 bombing of the Marriott Hotel in Islamabad.

The seizure of the Jaffar Express train by the Balochistan Liberation Army (BLA) earlier this month, while not as deadly as some of those earlier attacks, stands out for its sheer scale: BLA hijacked an entire train carrying more than 400 people—something no group had ever done before in Pakistan. It was also terribly traumatic, especially for the children held captive aboard a train on an isolated mountain pass. And it was deeply embarrassing for the Pakistani state, given the massive intelligence failure that it represents.

Little wonder then that at a press conference several days after the attack, a defiant Lt General Ahmed Sharif Chaudhry, the director general of Inter-Services Public Relations (ISPR), the media wing of the Pakistan Armed Forces, vowed that it will no longer be business as usual. “This incident of Jaffar Express changes the rules of the game,” he declared.

The implication is that the gloves are now fully off, and that Pakistan will take stronger steps to curb the rapidly intensifying threat posed by BLA and its ilk.

That escalating threat is reflected above all by staggering rises in violence: the number of attacks perpetrated by BLA and other banned Baloch insurgent groups increased by 119 per cent between 2023 and 2024, according to the Pak Institute for Peace Studies (PIPS). Insurgents are also expanding their attacks geographically, beyond Balochistan, including one in Karachi in October. Additionally, recruitment has gone up, which has strengthened militants’ capacity to widen the scope of operations. Furthermore, disparate Baloch separatist groups are starting to merge. Ominously, just a few days before the Jaffar Express tragedy, a confederation of these outfits announced they would be morphing into a single force called the Balochistan National Army. This development, combined with previous operational collaborations between BLA and Tehreek-e-Taliban (TTP), the deadliest terrorist group operating in Pakistan, suggests the possibil­ity of an increasingly united—and therefore more dangerous—threat to the Pakistani state. Washington, recognising the seriousness of these security risks in Balochistan, recently issued its most severe category of travel advisory “Level 4, Do Not Travel” for the province.

Not surprisingly, the train hijacking has further emboldened BLA, which has (along with TTP) staged dozens of attacks of varying scale in the days after the train siege. This unrelenting threat, combined with TTP’s recent announcement of its annual spring offensive, will increase pressure on the Pakistani military to mount an effective response.

And yet, current policies and conditions in Pakistan seemingly risk exacerbating this threat rather than easing it.

For one thing, Islamabad, likely with an eye to the new administration in Washington and its strong focus on critical minerals, is ramping up efforts to attract foreign investment in its untapped mineral reserves. It is finalising a new National Minerals Harmonization Framework, which is meant to provide incen­tives to local and foreign investors. Next month, the government will host a large mineral investment forum—in partnership with top global energy, legal, and financial players—that it describes as a “trans­formative opportunity” for its mining sector. This pitch has already scored a victory: Barrick Gold, a large Canada-based mining firm, is reportedly investing $7 billion in efforts to revive the Reko Diq mine. A Saudi mining company, Manara Minerals, will be investing in the project as well, and Barrick Gold is seeking additional support from the West. Current plans call for beginning copper and gold production by 2028.

However, large portions of Pakistan’s untapped mineral riches—estimated at $1 trillion—are in Balochistan. This includes those in Chagai district, where Reko Diq is located. Inequitable and exploitative resource extraction has long been a core grievance harboured by Baloch separatists, meaning that any moves to intensify mining activities in the region could galvanise insurgents and increase the of risk additional attacks.

Meanwhile, China, Pakistan’s crucial ally and the main foreign investor in Balochistan, is deeply concerned by security threats in the province, and not satisfied with Pakistani attempts to ad­dress them—even though Pakistan has 15,000 security forces and a Gwadar-based naval unit protecting Chinese invest­ments around the country. China could conceivably push for bringing its own armed security forces into Pakistan, which is currently banned by Pakistani law. If Beijing gets its way, and an armed foreign security presence enters Balochistan—already a heavily militarised region—then Balochi separatists would view this as a provocation, and once again the risk of attacks would increase.

Despite the vow to do things differently from now on, the main takeaway from the ISPR press conference is that the focus will remain the same: Hit the terrorists hard and blame a foreign hand.

At the press conference, there was much tough talk—pep­pered with detailed statistics—about all the security opera­tions conducted, and all the terrorists “sent to hell” over the last year. This muscular messaging is understandable; Pakistanis are angry and shaken by the train attack, and the military itself has been getting hit repeatedly by BLA and its allies. And yet, the simple fact is that killing insurgents doesn’t kill insurgency, and history is replete with examples— including in Pakistan itself. Back in 2014, Pakistan launched a massive counterterrorism offensive, known as Zarb-e-Azb, against TTP in their North Waziristan stronghold. The operation killed many terrorists and displaced many others into Afghanistan while bringing Pakistan a much-deserved lull in attacks—but it didn’t prevent TTP’s eventual resurgence some years later. And, of course, years of military operations against violent actors in Balochistan has only produced more violence, as reflected in the 119 per cent increase in militant attacks last year.

At the press conference, ISPR also reiterated longstanding Pakistani claims that India and Afghanistan sponsor Baloch separatists—a view Pakistani officials insist is an evidence-based fact, not a mere accusation. Unfortunately for Islamabad, its relations with Kabul and New Delhi—which categorically deny the allegations—are too tense to allow it to address these concerns diplomatically. And if it were to try to hit back uni­laterally, with military measures, this would further strain ties with both neighbours—something that Pakistan, with all of its internal stress, cannot afford.

At the same time, externalising blame conveniently enables Pakistan to overlook the deeply rooted internal drivers of Baloch insurgency—from the military’s consistently heavy-handed actions to the abysmal governance, economic, and natural-resource conditions in Balochistan.

The only viable and sustainable solution to the Balochistan crisis is a political and negotiated one. That is admittedly a hard sell now, with emotions still raw after the Jaffar Express attack. In other cases in recent Pakistani history, negotiation strategies with militants have failed miserably—most promi­nently with TTP.

But the Balochistan case contrasts sharply with the TTP issue. In recent years, TTP has sought to reinvent itself as a Robin Hood-like actor—one that claims to avoid targeting civil­ians and vows to fight for people’s basic needs. But at the end of the day, it has no support base other than its own militant network, and it doesn’t tap into widely held grievances.

Contrast that with Baloch separatism. Insurgents’ violent tactics may not get mass support from local communities, but their grievances and motivations resonate across large swaths of the province’s population. Witness the large public protests in recent years against state repression and resource exploitation. There is a strong view in Balochistan that the province is marginalised and undermined by the state, with locals having little say in its development. So deep is mistrust of the state there that its pledges to provide jobs, energy, and housing routinely fall on deaf ears.

Due to Pakistan’s economic stress, its military lacks the resources to mount a counteroffensive on the scale of Zarb-e-Azb. Additionally, the armed forces lack the national consensus for a major operation that they enjoyed in the lead-up to Zarb-e- Azb. This is because of deep political polarisation; high levels of public anger at the military (rooted in part in its repression against the Baloch); and the fact that (for now) most attacks are happening in western Pakistan, avoiding major cities, and not directly targeting civilians. All of this militates against the feasibility of a military solution. Not surprisingly, last June Islamabad announced a new national counterterrorism strat­egy—but it was limited in scope, and has clearly had little success.

Ultimately, Pakistan confronts a highly complex challenge in Balochistan that cannot be addressed by scorched-earth approaches, or by trying to kill your way to some type of imagined victory. Pakistan will need to focus on dialogue and reconciliation. This will be a long and hard game. It will require deft diplomacy as well as strong and savvy leadership from key stakeholders across the board—in Islamabad, Rawalpindi, Quetta, and within the Baloch community.

Baloch activistsBolaneconomic stresshijacked Jaffar Expressinternal politicsPakistanregional disparityZarb-e-Azb