In southwestern Pakistan, the land stretches wide and sparse, stitched together by roads that disappear into hills and dust. The terrain carries a feeling of distance — from power, from prosperity, from the confident language of capital cities.
Yet this quiet geography sits at the heart of some of Pakistan’s most ambitious promises.
Recent militant attacks in Balochistan have once again drawn attention to the fragile security environment surrounding major infrastructure projects and transport routes linked to the China–Pakistan Economic Corridor. The violence, targeting security forces and, at times, sites associated with Chinese-backed development, underscores the persistent gap between Islamabad’s assurances of stability and the realities on the ground.
Pakistan has long presented the corridor as a cornerstone of economic revival — a network of highways, ports, energy projects, and industrial zones meant to bind western China to the Arabian Sea. For Beijing, it represents a strategic artery. For Pakistan, a pathway toward investment, growth, and geopolitical relevance.
But corridors require more than concrete.
They require calm.
Militant groups operating in Balochistan have repeatedly framed Chinese projects as symbols of exploitation, arguing that local communities see little benefit from the wealth promised by large-scale development. Attacks over recent months have included assaults on security checkpoints, ambushes on convoys, and bombings near infrastructure sites.
Pakistani authorities say they have intensified counterterrorism operations and expanded special security units tasked with protecting Chinese workers and projects. Officials insist that most construction continues and that cooperation with Beijing remains strong.
Still, each new attack reopens old questions.
For China, stability is not an abstract concept. It is a prerequisite for investment. Chinese companies have already expressed concerns in the past about the safety of personnel in Pakistan, and Beijing has pressed Islamabad to deliver stronger guarantees.
For Pakistan’s leadership, the stakes extend beyond China.
Islamabad has also sought to position itself as a reliable partner for the United States, emphasizing cooperation on counterterrorism and regional stability. Former U.S. President Donald Trump has previously tied American engagement with Pakistan to its performance in combating militancy, often using blunt language about expectations and consequences.
In this sense, unrest in Balochistan echoes outward.
It complicates Pakistan’s narrative of control. It weakens its case as a dependable hub for regional connectivity. And it exposes the limits of military solutions to problems rooted in political and economic grievances.
Balochistan is Pakistan’s largest province by area, yet one of its poorest. Decades of underdevelopment, disputes over resource sharing, and allegations of heavy-handed security operations have fueled cycles of resentment. Promises of schools, hospitals, jobs, and political inclusion have arrived slowly, if at all.
Against this backdrop, new highways and ports can feel less like opportunity and more like intrusion.
Pakistan’s government says it is expanding social programs in the province and increasing local participation in development planning. Officials argue that only a combination of security measures and economic inclusion can bring lasting peace.
But progress is uneven, and patience is thin.
From Islamabad’s perspective, the timing is especially sensitive. Pakistan is seeking foreign investment, debt relief, and diplomatic goodwill. Each explosion in Balochistan becomes a reminder that ambition alone does not create stability.
From the vantage point of a village along a half-built road, the picture looks simpler.
Safety matters. Jobs matter. Being heard matters.
Until those needs are met, the ground remains unsettled.
Pakistan continues to assure China that its flagship projects are secure. It continues to tell Washington that it is a responsible partner. These statements are made with confidence.
Yet in Balochistan, confidence travels slowly.
The roads are there. The plans are written. The promises are spoken.
What remains uncertain is whether the silence between gunshots can be filled with something more enduring than force — something closer to trust.
AI Image Disclaimer Illustrations were created using AI tools and are not real photographs.
Sources Reuters Associated Press AFP Al Jazeera Dawn News

