Balochistan's long war resurfaces, and the minerals underneath it
A surge of violence in Pakistan's resource-rich south-western province is reopening the question of who benefits from the Reko Diq deposits and the corridors planned around them.

On 19 July 2026, The Indian Express carried a long-form explainer on the Balochistan conflict: a province the size of France, holding copper, gold and the bulk of Pakistan's known mineral wealth, and an insurgency that has outlasted four civilian governments in Islamabad and as many military chief-of-staff changes. The reporting lays out, in plain terms, why the violence keeps coming back, and why outside investors are still queueing for a slice of the deposits underneath it.
The Balochistan story is not one story but three braided together: an ethnic-nationalist insurgency that dates to Pakistan's first constitution; a resource economy that the province's own political class says it does not control; and a corridor project, the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor, that has brought new roads, new security checkpoints and new grievances in roughly the same decade. Reading them separately is what makes the conflict hard to parse; reading them together is what makes it legible.
The shape of the insurgency
Balochistan's insurgencies have come in waves. The current phase dates to the mid-2000s and is led principally by the Balochistan Liberation Army (BLA) and a constellation of smaller nationalist outfits. The Indian Express piece describes a campaign that has grown more lethal and more targeted: attacks on Punjabi settlers, on security forces, and on infrastructure projects tied to foreign investment. The methods have also grown more sophisticated, with small-unit operations replacing the mass-frontal assaults of earlier decades and a propaganda apparatus that posts claims in near-real-time on social media.
The insurgency's centre of gravity is not ideology in the conventional sense. It is the grievance, repeated across generations of Baloch political speech, that the province's mineral rents flow outward, to Karachi and Islamabad, while the province itself ranks near the bottom of Pakistan's human-development indicators. Literacy, infant mortality, water access and electrification in Quetta and the districts to its north and west all lag the national average. The Indian Express frames this gap as the structural cause; the armed groups are its symptom.
The minerals underneath
The single biggest prize is Reko Diq, a copper-gold deposit in the Chagai district that, by any geological estimate, sits in the top tier of undeveloped porphyry systems in the world. The project was frozen for nearly a decade by an arbitration at the World Bank's International Centre for Settlement of Investment Disputes after the Pakistani government rejected an earlier mining licence held by Barrick Gold and Antofagasta. A settlement in 2022 restructured the consortium, with Pakistan's federal and Balochistan provincial governments holding a combined majority stake and Barrick as operator.
That settlement, and the front-end engineering that has followed, is the single largest reason foreign capital is again interested. The Indian Express details the pipeline of projects now moving through feasibility: copper-gold at Reko Diq, coal from the Thar fields to the south-east, and a string of smaller licences for chromite, antimony and rare-earth-associated minerals that have drawn interest from Chinese state-owned enterprises, Saudi funds and a smaller cohort of Western junior miners.
The political economy question, plainly stated, is whether a province with this much mineral wealth can remain near the bottom of national development rankings for another generation and remain politically stable. The historical answer, in Pakistan, is no.
The corridor overlay
The third braid is infrastructure. The China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC), the flagship Belt and Road project that connects Gwadar port on the Arabian Sea to Kashgar in Xinjiang, runs the full length of Balochistan. The corridor is, on paper, an export route for the province's minerals and a shorter route for Chinese imports of Middle Eastern oil that would otherwise transit the Strait of Malacca. In practice, the road, rail and energy build-out has been accompanied by a parallel security architecture: new check-posts, a heavier paramilitary presence, and a growing list of enforced disappearances documented by human-rights organisations.
The Indian Express piece is candid that the corridor has produced visible economic activity, including jobs and a working deepwater port at Gwadar. It is equally candid that the benefits, measured against the province's development deficit, look small. Gwadar remains a town of under a hundred thousand; the special economic zone planned around it has moved more slowly than its original timeline; and the agriculture and fishing communities displaced by the corridor footprint have not, on the record, been compensated at a scale that local political leaders describe as adequate.
That gap, between announced investment and delivered benefit, is the soil the insurgency grows in.
What the framing gets wrong, and right
The dominant Western-wire frame tends to read Balochistan through a single lens: separatist violence in a strategic province that hosts Belt and Road infrastructure. That frame is not wrong; it is incomplete. It treats the insurgency as a function of militancy, when the harder reading is that the militancy is a function of the province's relationship to the Pakistani state.
There is a second framing, common in Indian and some Gulf outlets, that reads the conflict as an externally fuelled destabilisation campaign. That reading carries weight in the specific case of cross-border sanctuary and of arms interceptions at the Iranian and Afghan frontiers, both of which the Indian Express notes. It does not, on its own, explain the homegrown recruitment that the BLA has run for two decades.
The structural reading, which holds the most evidence, is that Balochistan is a classic resource-rich, autonomy-poor periphery: a province whose wealth is extracted under central control, whose population is politically marginalised, and whose insurgencies intensify each time the extraction accelerates. CPEC did not invent that dynamic. It amplified it.
What to watch next
Three indicators will tell whether the current flare-up subsides or deepens. First, the timeline at Reko Diq: if Barrick and its Pakistani partners move from feasibility into construction on the schedule now publicly posted, the project will draw fresh labour migration into Chagai and with it fresh friction. Second, the security posture around Gwadar, where the Pakistani navy and the Chinese operators have overlapping jurisdictions that local courts have already been asked to clarify. Third, the political calendar in Islamabad: a general election is due before the end of 2026, and Balochistan's vote has historically been a leading indicator of whether the centre can hold.
The honest reading is that none of the three leading indicators point at a quiet summer. The minerals under the province are not going anywhere. Neither is the insurgency that grows on top of them.
Desk note: this piece is built around a single long-form Indian Express explainer that surfaced in the wire on 19 July 2026. Where the Indian Express names specific projects, statistics and corporate counterparties, this article reproduces those references; where it speaks in general terms, this article does the same. The piece sits inside Monexus's wider Pakistan coverage, which treats Balochistan as a structural story about resource sovereignty rather than a stand-alone militancy story.
Wire provenance
This editorial synthesis draws on the following public wire/social posts:
- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Balochistan_Liberation_Army
- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reko_Diq
- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/China%E2%80%93Pakistan_Economic_Corridor
- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gwadar_Port