Writer: Aneesa Baloch
Balochistan — a land that could have been a beacon of prosperity — today stands as a tragic example of how immense natural wealth can coexist with extreme poverty, repression and dispossession. Beneath its rugged mountains and desert plains lie vast reserves of copper, gold, silver, chromite, lithium, uranium, rare earths like bastnaesite, xenotime and precious gemstones such as emerald, ruby and aquamarine. Yet, instead of bringing hope and dignity to its people, these treasures have become symbols of exploitation, exclusion and state-backed plunder.
In Chaghi, Reko Diq alone is estimated to hold 25.6 billion pounds of copper and 13.3 million ounces of gold in inferred and indicated resources, ranking it among the top five global undeveloped copper-gold projects. Neighboring Saindak, also rich in copper and gold, is run by Chinese company MCC. Yet, despite this abundance, locals are barely compensated, Saindak’s royalties amount to a meagre 2%, funneled through Islamabad with little or no benefit for those who live on their land.
For decades, the story has been the same. The province’s Sui gas fields have fueled homes and industries in Punjab and Sindh since 1952, but Balochistan itself remains largely without gas connections, schools, hospitals or basic infrastructure. The people see their land stripped of its riches while they walk barefoot on streets lit only by the glow of military checkpoints guarding “national assets” from the very communities they belong to.
Pakistan’s federally controlled projects in Balochistan, particularly Reko Diq (in partnership with Canada’s Barrick Gold) and Saindak (operated by MCC), have become magnets for foreign investment. Investors are enticed by the billions in untapped minerals, while turning a blind eye to the Pakistani military’s domination over politics and judiciary.
Under the current Reko Diq deal, Barrick holds 50% ownership, three federal state-owned enterprises together own 25% and the remaining 25% is held by the Balochistan government. On paper, this suggests local participation in reality, the benefits never reach the people of Balochistan. What they see instead is displacement, environmental degradation and the permanent militarization of their homeland.
Balochistan’s woes are not limited to its mineral resources. Its Gwadar port, a potentially transformative economic hub — has been integrated into Pakistan’s strategic corridor plans, especially under the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC). But instead of uplifting local livelihoods, Gwadar’s riches are channeled outward. Fishermen face restrictions, protests are crushed and promises of development evaporate into press releases.
The fortified mines of Reko Diq and Saindak are entirely off-limits to ordinary Baloch citizens, patrolled by security forces. Meanwhile, the region grapples with high illiteracy rates, lack of healthcare, rising crime and widespread human rights violations. For the Baloch, the “economic revolution” promised by Islamabad and its foreign partners has been little more than a mirage.
This is not a recent tragedy. Since the early 1950s, Balochistan’s gas, coal and mineral wealth has been extracted at scale. The profits have flowed to other provinces and foreign capitals, while the Baloch have been denied the most basic necessities. The injustice is not just economic. It is political and existential. In the eyes of those in power, Baloch lives are dispensable.
If the treasures of Reko Diq and Gwadar had been managed by and for the Baloch themselves, the story could have been different. Poverty could have been eradicated, barefoot children could have gone to school and entire communities could have thrived on their own land. Instead, these resources have become weapons in a campaign of marginalization.
The international community remains largely silent. For foreign states and corporations, Balochistan is a business opportunity, not a humanitarian crisis. The rights of its people are overshadowed by the profits of mines, ports and pipelines. The world’s selective outrage — vocal on some global injustices, but mute on Balochistan underscores a bitter truth: in global politics, economy and power trump humanity and rights.
Balochistan’s struggle is not a plea for charity; it is a demand for rightful ownership, dignity and self-determination. Until the Baloch people control their own resources and destinies, the region will remain trapped in a cycle of extraction and oppression.
The gold, copper and strategic ports that could have been a source of pride and prosperity have instead become the chains that bind Balochistan. The world must recognize that this is not just an economic issue , it is a question of justice, identity and survival.
Note: The ideas and opinions expressed in this writing are the author’s own.
