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Pakistan just announced that its security forces killed 88 terrorists in Balochistan since launching a massive counter-offensive on July 5. Interior Minister Mohsin Naqvi made the headline-grabbing statement, confirming that a combined force of the military, paramilitary Rangers, and the Frontier Corps are hitting targets from both the ground and the air. They are calling it Operation Shaban.
It sounds like a decisive battlefield victory. But if you look past the raw body count, it's clear that this kinetic onslaught isn't fixing the underlying rot. It might actually be making things worse.
The bloody trigger for Operation Shaban
The military didn't just decide to launch a massive air and ground assault out of nowhere. Operation Shaban was a desperate response to a sequence of highly coordinated, brutal attacks that shook Balochistan on July 5.
The most devastating strike hit a police checkpoint at Mangi Dam in the Ziarat district. Insurgents didn't just open fire. They executed nine police officers on the spot and kidnapped 18 others. Bullet-riddled bodies of those 18 captured men were later found dumped in the rugged, unforgiving Zarghoon Gar mountain range.
On that exact same day, militants ambushed members of the Hanna Urak Valley tribe near Quetta. Five tribesmen were slaughtered, eight were wounded, and 11 were dragged away into the hills. While those 11 tribal hostages were safely recovered by security forces, the sheer audacity of the twin assaults forced Islamabad to greenlight an all-out military campaign.
Body counts vs the reality on the ground
When the state claims it killed 88 militants in less than a week, it wants you to believe it has total control. It doesn't. While the military hunts insurgents in the mountains, the cities are simmering with a different kind of rebellion.
Right now, grieving families of the executed policemen are holding an intense sit-in protest at Koila Phatak Chowk, right on the edge of Quetta. They brought eight of the recovered bodies directly to the protest site. They refuse to bury their dead.
Think about that for a second. These are families of law enforcement officers—the very people fighting for the state—refusing to cooperate with government burial rituals until they get ironclad guarantees of justice and real protection. When the families of your own frontline forces lose faith in your security strategy, a high body count in the mountains means very little.
Why the kinetic approach keeps failing
Islamabad treats Balochistan like a standard counter-terrorism problem that can be shot out of existence. It can't. The insurgency has been burning for over two decades because it is fueled by deep-seated, legitimate grievances that the federal government refuses to address.
Baloch ethnic groups and local political parties aren't fighting because they hate the state for no reason. They see the federal government consistently extracting billions of dollars worth of copper, gold, and natural gas from the province while leaving the local population with open sewers, zero jobs, and no clean drinking water. Major infrastructure projects like the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC) use Baloch land but rarely employ Baloch people.
When the state responds to economic and political alienation exclusively with gunships and heavy artillery, it creates a self-perpetuating cycle:
- Coordinated militant attacks trigger massive military crackdowns.
- The crackdowns inevitably result in heavy-handed tactics, missing persons, and collateral damage.
- A new generation of angry, marginalized young locals gets pushed straight into the arms of separatist groups like the Balochistan Liberation Army (BLA).
Moving beyond gunbarrel diplomacy
If Pakistan wants to actually stabilize its largest province, it has to stop relying solely on the military to do the work of politicians and economists. The 88 dead insurgents will simply be replaced by 88 more by next month if the root issues remain untouched.
First, the federal government needs to immediately restructure resource-sharing agreements. Local communities must see direct, tangible financial benefits from the mineral wealth leaving their soil. If a multi-billion dollar mine is operating in a district, that district needs first-class schools, hospitals, and modern infrastructure, not just a heavily armed checkpoint outside the gate.
Second, the state must address the crisis of enforced disappearances. Nothing radicalizes a community faster than young men vanishing into custody without a trial. Securing Balochistan requires building institutional trust, starting with giving the families of the missing clear answers and legal due process.
Finally, the provincial government must immediately fix the security architecture for its lower-tier law enforcement. The police sitting at remote checkpoints are essentially sitting ducks. They lack the heavy weaponry, advanced surveillance tech, and armored transport that the military possesses, making them easy targets for well-armed insurgent factions. Until the state treats local police protection with the same urgency as protecting high-value state assets, the security vacuum will remain wide open.
