Balochistan burns again: Why Pakistan Army can’t end the deadly rebellion

As nearly 200 people, including 31 civilians, die in the latest surge of violence, Pakistan faces hard questions about what is really driving Balochistan’s conflict.

Balochistan Conflict: Reminding Pakistan that the conflict in Balochistan never truly fades, it only pauses, another round of bloodshed has swept through the rugged Sulaiman and Kirthar mountain ranges. The country’s largest province by area, which is its most sparsely populated, has once again become the stage for a deadly convergence of old grievances, armed rebellion, shadow wars and regional power games.

For nearly 40 hours, fierce fighting raged across more than a dozen areas in southwestern Balochistan. Pakistani officials described the violence as a “desperate” series of coordinated attacks claimed by the banned Balochistan Liberation Army (BLA), a separatist group that is fighting for an independent Baloch state for decades.

The toll was staggering. According to the Pakistan Army, nearly 200 people were killed, including 31 civilians, 17 security personnel and 145 BLA fighters. More than 100 deaths were reported on Saturday alone. Authorities rejected the BLA’s claim that it killed 84 members of the security forces, calling it exaggerated.

In Quetta, the capital of Balochistan, traces of the ongoing conflict are visible everywhere in everyday life. The police academy, the courts and crowded bazaars all carry scars from past attacks. Even so, the official line from Islamabad and provincial authorities was one of control and resolve.

“Our security forces, personnel and officers have fought bravely,” Information Minister Attaullah Tarar said, describing the BLA assault as the “last gasp of a cornered enemy”.

The scale of the casualties tells a harsher story. More than a dozen members of the security forces lost their lives. Civilians were caught in the middle once again. The attempt by both sides to project dominance feels louder than the reality on the ground.

A familiar foreign blame game

Pakistan’s response followed a well-worn script. The attackers were labelled members of “Fitna-al-Hindustan”, an Urdu phrase meaning “India’s incitement”. New Delhi has not responded to the accusation.

The accusation of “foreign hands” exists at the centre of Pakistan’s national security narrative. Each attack is described as part of a broader “conspiracy” by Islamabad’s long-time rival. In that telling, the deeply rooted political and economic grievances of the Baloch people are folded into a simpler storyline of external sabotage.

Past governments have used similar language, often accusing unnamed neighbours of trying to undermine major development projects.

This framing places the Pakistani military in the role of guardian of territorial integrity rather than one side of a long-running internal conflict. For the state, the argument goes beyond words.

Kulbhushan Jadhav, an Indian national arrested in 2016 and sentenced to death by a Pakistani court on alleged espionage charges, is central to Islamabad’s case. Pakistan released a purported video it said showed Jadhav confessing to involvement in attacks in Balochistan. India denied the allegations.

For Pakistan, the episode reinforced its claim that a local rebellion is part of a wider geopolitical struggle.

What fuels the rebellion

Away from official briefings, a different picture emerges in Balochistan itself.

In conversations at tea shops in Quetta, residents talk about political exclusion and economic neglect. Many ask how a province rich in minerals is trapped in poverty, decade after decade.

Built around the deep-sea port of Gwadar, the $46bn China-Pakistan Economic Corridor is often seen locally as a project designed to benefit Beijing and Islamabad. Fishermen and shepherds in Balochistan struggle to see how it improves their lives.

Baloch separatist fighters have repeatedly targeted mines and attacked workers from other provinces who travel to Balochistan in search of work. Many residents describe the province as resembling a lawless frontier, where authority is fragmented and fear fills the gaps.

This sense of abandonment feeds the insurgency. The deaths of 18 civilians in the latest fighting highlight the tragedy at the heart of the conflict. The violence consumes the very communities the rebels claim to represent.

The human cost etched into memory

Balochistan is a land full of contradictions. Gwadar stands as a gleaming symbol of regional trade ambitions on the Arabian Sea. In remote valleys, phone signals vanish at the first sign of unrest. The province’s borders with Iran and Afghanistan offer militants strategic breathing space. This geography keeps Pakistan on edge.

The human cost is etched into both the land and collective memory. Survivors still recall a 2013 attack in Quetta’s Hazara Town. Official claims of national unity often sound more like slogans than lived experience.

Residents say corruption is everywhere, taking money meant for healthcare, schools and basic services. For many, security feels far away and unreliable.
Beyond firepower

Pakistan’s recent military operations show it can act forcefully. Drones watch from above, armed patrols move through conflict areas and rebel hideouts are cleared.

After every crisis, the national action plan is reviewed once more. Promises are repeated. Violence fades and then returns. Public ceremonies showing militants surrendering weapons continue. Recruitment driven by nationalist rhetoric moves faster.

Lasting peace in Balochistan demands more than counting bodies. Separatism draws strength from genuine resentment. Development must feel like participation, not extraction. Political dialogue needs to be treated as necessity, not weakness.

A province at the centre of regional rivalries

Larger than Germany in size, Balochistan is at the crossroads of competing interests. China’s economic push, Iran’s alleged sectarian dynamics, US containment strategies and Afghanistan’s alleged involvement all intersect here.

Pakistan’s challenge lies in managing these external pressures while addressing the internal fractures that leave its biggest province so exposed. The past 48 hours have tested the country’s security framework once again.

As always, the dust will settle. Attention will drift elsewhere, and commentators will move on.

The direction Balochistan takes depends on whether this pause becomes a path toward political accommodation, economic inclusion and serious regional diplomacy, or simply the calm before the next eruption.