Pakistan’s first train hijacking: Suicide bombers complicate hostage rescue 

In an unprecedented escalation of Pakistan’s Balochistan insurgency, separatist militants from the Baloch Liberation Army (BLA) hijacked the Jaffar Express yesterday (Tuesday), transforming a routine journey into a harrowing standoff. The train, carrying between 400 and 500 passengers from Quetta to Peshawar, was ambushed in a remote tunnel in the Kacchi district’s rugged mountains, thrusting the region’s long-simmering conflict into a new, perilous phase. As Pakistani forces battle to reclaim the train—now a hostage site guarded by suicide bombers—the incident lays bare the state’s struggle to secure its volatile southwest.

The Attack Unfolds

The Jaffar Express, a lifeline connecting Balochistan’s capital to Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, departed Quetta Tuesday morning with nine coaches packed with travelers—families, workers, and reportedly over 100 security personnel on leave. Around midday, as it crawled through Tunnel No. 8 between Gudalaar and Piru Koneri, militants detonated explosives on the tracks, derailing the train and trapping it in darkness. Armed with rifles and explosives, they stormed aboard, killing the driver and at least two others in an initial barrage. Survivor accounts paint a chaotic scene: gunmen checking IDs, separating men from women, and executing soldiers in front of horrified passengers.

The BLA, a separatist group seeking Balochistan’s independence, swiftly claimed responsibility. In a statement, they boasted of killing 30 Pakistani security personnel and seizing 214 hostages—soldiers, police, and intelligence officers among them—while alleging they’d released women, children, and local Baloch civilians. Official numbers conflict: police insist 350 passengers were safe early on, yet security sources later confirmed dozens remained captive, some dragged into the surrounding peaks.

Suicide Bombers and a Tense Standoff

What sets this hijacking apart—Pakistan’s first—is the BLA’s deployment of suicide bombers, a chilling tactic from its Majeed Brigade. Security sources told Reuters and AFP that militants in “suicide jackets” sat beside hostages, their vests a lethal deterrent to any rash rescue attempt. “They’ve positioned bombers right next to innocent passengers,” one official said, anonymity shielding the gravity of his words. The tunnel’s confines and the mountainous terrain amplify the challenge, turning a potential assault into a high-stakes gamble for the lives of those trapped.

By Wednesday morning, March 12, Pakistani forces—backed by helicopters—had rescued between 104 and 155 passengers, including 58 men, 31 women, and 15 children, though accounts differ on whether these were freed by military action or released by the BLA. At least 16 to 27 militants lay dead after overnight clashes, their bodies testament to a fierce counteroperation. Yet the train remained contested, with estimates of dozens to 300 hostages still held—a figure muddied by the chaos and the BLA’s mountain retreat with captives in tow.

Voices from the Edge

Survivors, staggering into Quetta or Mach’s makeshift hospital, carried tales of dread and defiance. Muhammad Bilal, among the freed, told AFP, “I can’t find words for how we escaped—it was terrifying.” He recounted militants sorting IDs, shooting two soldiers before his eyes, and hauling others away. A heart patient pleaded his condition to secure his family’s release, trekking hours through rocky hills to safety. In Quetta, a mother confronted Balochistan minister Mir Zahoor Buledi, her voice breaking: “My son is still there—how can a train not be safe?” Her anguish echoed a community’s fury at a government they feel has failed them.

A Full-Scale Response

Pakistan’s leadership moved quickly. Interior Minister Mohsin Naqvi branded the attackers “beasts,” lauding troops for rescuing over 100, while Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif vowed the military was “repelling” the threat. Railways suspended all routes to Balochistan, and emergency desks sprouted at Quetta and Peshawar stations to aid frantic families. By midday Wednesday, a “full-scale operation” loomed, with gunfire and explosions still reverberating through Bolan’s peaks. The United Nations’ Antonio Guterres condemned the attack, urging the hostages’ release—a rare global spotlight on a regional crisis.

The BLA’s War and Balochistan’s Wounds

The BLA, with an estimated 3,000 fighters, is no stranger to violence. Rooted in decades of grievance over Balochistan’s mineral wealth—gas, copper, gold—they accuse Islamabad of exploitation, funneling riches to Punjab and Sindh while leaving locals impoverished. Recent years have seen their attacks grow bolder: a November 2024 suicide blast at Quetta’s railway station killed 26, suspending the Jaffar Express for a month until its ill-fated resumption. Now, targeting civilians alongside soldiers, the BLA demands the release of political prisoners within 48 hours, threatening mass execution if defied—a deadline ticking down as forces weigh their next move.

Balochistan, Pakistan’s largest yet least developed province, has long been a tinderbox. Bordering Iran and Afghanistan, it hosts the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC), a $62 billion project the BLA has repeatedly struck, killing Chinese workers to protest foreign influence. Analysts see this hijacking as a bid to force concessions amid a resurgent insurgency, fueled by economic despair and alleged state abuses—disappearances, killings—that swell the BLA’s ranks.

A Rescue on the Brink

The operation’s challenges are stark. Suicide bombers tether the hostages’ fate to any misstep, while the tunnel and mountains thwart easy access. Drones and helicopters buzz overhead, but precision eludes in such confines. The BLA’s ultimatum—prisoner swaps or slaughter—adds urgency, yet Pakistan’s military, seasoned in counterinsurgency, hesitates to storm blindly. “It’s a delicate balance,” a security analyst noted off-record. “One wrong move, and the tunnel becomes a tomb.”

As of Wednesday noon, the crisis endures. The Jaffar Express, named for a Baloch tribal leader tied to Pakistan’s founding, sits half-claimed by militants, a symbol of a nation’s fraying edges. For the hostages still aboard or scattered in the hills, time stretches thin—each hour a negotiation between survival and sacrifice in Balochistan’s unending war.