BALOCHISTAN IS A COUNTRY
The Baloch question
Aasim Sajjad Akhtar
August 30, 2024
DAWN
IT is not as if we have not been here before. Balochistan has bled for so long that the mainstream Pakistani consciousness has tuned it into the background. Yet every so often, the Baloch national question is thrust into the spotlight and everyone suddenly becomes an expert on everything Balochistan.
What has transpired after the gruesome killing of civilians in Musakhel — most of them reportedly of Seraiki and Punjabi backgrounds — is a microcosm of everything that is wrong about the way most Pakistanis, particularly in the core regions of our highly fragmented country, conceive of the Baloch question.
First came the frenzied demands for retribution. Expressing outrage at the killings is one thing, but giving the state license to crush ‘terrorism’ is another thing altogether. The current insurgency in Balochistan has raged for almost two decades, and was originally triggered by the dictatorial regime of General Pervez Musharraf, who, some readers will remember, publicly announced ‘they won’t know what hit them’.
Ever since, Baloch youth have been criminalised to no end, thus providing further fuel to the insurgency. Even staunch Pakistani nationalists have, on occasion, acknowledged that insurgencies, past and present, represent a failure of state policy. Militarisation of the Baloch question has not worked before, and will not work now.
Militarisation of the Baloch question has not worked.
Second was the lack of knowledge about Balochistan on display. Among other things, the term ‘Balochi’ was bandied about in reference to the people, whereas the correct term is ‘Baloch’. Then there was almost total neglect of the fact that Pashtuns, Hazaras, Punjabis, Seraikis and others also call Balochistan their home. They do not all hold the same political opinions just because of their ethnic backgrounds. Indeed, the Baloch people are extremely diverse — the Makran belt in the south, for instance, comprises a distinct social formation to the northeastern parts of the province, including the Bugti, Mengal and Marri heartlands as well as Balochistan’s ‘green belt’ on the Sindh border.
Finally, there was the reduction of the entirely organic Baloch national question to great games and international conspiracies. It is certainly not implausible that there are regional and global players active in Balochistan, but the concerns that many Baloch have vis-a-vis the grand ‘developmental’ claims of projects like CPEC are long-standing and undeniable. Gwadar’s historic fishing communities, for example, have seen their livelihoods destroyed by corporate trawlers, while the wider population has been ravaged by state and private profiteers, who have made a killing through bogus real estate schemes.
Yet all of this seems to matter little in a social media universe where nuance, history and facts count for little. It is certainly true that social media has provided impetus to peaceful movements such as the Baloch Yakjehti Committee, but recent days confirm how the Facebook and Twitter algorithm as well as the statist trolls and bots ensure the de-intellectualisation of political debate.
It is also telling how supposedly broad-based consensuses around matters like enforced disappearances and ethnic profiling dissipate rapidly, and so many people outside the ethnic peripheries start displaying outright racism by calling for a boycott of Quetta cafes and banishing Baloch students from Punjab.
The obvious tensions which do exist between ethnic-nations in Pakistan should, in fact, make clear that the Pakistani state continues to fail spectacularly in addressing the Baloch and other national questions. The weaponisation of reli-
gion continues to be the calling card of choice, which is why the militants of the TLP and TTP thrive while even entirely peaceful Baloch youth who are demanding accountability of the state are called terrorists.
Thirty years ago, Eqbal Ahmad delivered a lecture entitled ‘Terrorism: Theirs & Ours’, which many ‘experts’ should listen to. In it, he meticulously outlined the manner in which the term ‘terrorism’ was instrumentally used by states to pursue their narrow, cynical interests. Of all the forms of political violence that can viably be called ‘terrorism’, it is the modern state, in fact, that has perpetrated the most terror.
There is little evidence that the master strategists who run this country are interested in genuinely resolving the eight-decade-old Baloch question. Those who claim to be on the side of the people, particularly those in the core regions of the country, must not do their bidding, and at the very least use critical analytical lenses to make sense of what is going on in Balochistan.
Working people from Punjab to Balochistan are not perpetrators of hate. They can, however, become conveyor belts for the politics of hate. It is this which must be resisted at all costs.
The writer teaches at Quaid-i-Azam University, Islamabad.
Published in Dawn, August 30th, 2024
DAWN
IT is not as if we have not been here before. Balochistan has bled for so long that the mainstream Pakistani consciousness has tuned it into the background. Yet every so often, the Baloch national question is thrust into the spotlight and everyone suddenly becomes an expert on everything Balochistan.
What has transpired after the gruesome killing of civilians in Musakhel — most of them reportedly of Seraiki and Punjabi backgrounds — is a microcosm of everything that is wrong about the way most Pakistanis, particularly in the core regions of our highly fragmented country, conceive of the Baloch question.
First came the frenzied demands for retribution. Expressing outrage at the killings is one thing, but giving the state license to crush ‘terrorism’ is another thing altogether. The current insurgency in Balochistan has raged for almost two decades, and was originally triggered by the dictatorial regime of General Pervez Musharraf, who, some readers will remember, publicly announced ‘they won’t know what hit them’.
Ever since, Baloch youth have been criminalised to no end, thus providing further fuel to the insurgency. Even staunch Pakistani nationalists have, on occasion, acknowledged that insurgencies, past and present, represent a failure of state policy. Militarisation of the Baloch question has not worked before, and will not work now.
Militarisation of the Baloch question has not worked.
Second was the lack of knowledge about Balochistan on display. Among other things, the term ‘Balochi’ was bandied about in reference to the people, whereas the correct term is ‘Baloch’. Then there was almost total neglect of the fact that Pashtuns, Hazaras, Punjabis, Seraikis and others also call Balochistan their home. They do not all hold the same political opinions just because of their ethnic backgrounds. Indeed, the Baloch people are extremely diverse — the Makran belt in the south, for instance, comprises a distinct social formation to the northeastern parts of the province, including the Bugti, Mengal and Marri heartlands as well as Balochistan’s ‘green belt’ on the Sindh border.
Finally, there was the reduction of the entirely organic Baloch national question to great games and international conspiracies. It is certainly not implausible that there are regional and global players active in Balochistan, but the concerns that many Baloch have vis-a-vis the grand ‘developmental’ claims of projects like CPEC are long-standing and undeniable. Gwadar’s historic fishing communities, for example, have seen their livelihoods destroyed by corporate trawlers, while the wider population has been ravaged by state and private profiteers, who have made a killing through bogus real estate schemes.
Yet all of this seems to matter little in a social media universe where nuance, history and facts count for little. It is certainly true that social media has provided impetus to peaceful movements such as the Baloch Yakjehti Committee, but recent days confirm how the Facebook and Twitter algorithm as well as the statist trolls and bots ensure the de-intellectualisation of political debate.
It is also telling how supposedly broad-based consensuses around matters like enforced disappearances and ethnic profiling dissipate rapidly, and so many people outside the ethnic peripheries start displaying outright racism by calling for a boycott of Quetta cafes and banishing Baloch students from Punjab.
The obvious tensions which do exist between ethnic-nations in Pakistan should, in fact, make clear that the Pakistani state continues to fail spectacularly in addressing the Baloch and other national questions. The weaponisation of reli-
gion continues to be the calling card of choice, which is why the militants of the TLP and TTP thrive while even entirely peaceful Baloch youth who are demanding accountability of the state are called terrorists.
Thirty years ago, Eqbal Ahmad delivered a lecture entitled ‘Terrorism: Theirs & Ours’, which many ‘experts’ should listen to. In it, he meticulously outlined the manner in which the term ‘terrorism’ was instrumentally used by states to pursue their narrow, cynical interests. Of all the forms of political violence that can viably be called ‘terrorism’, it is the modern state, in fact, that has perpetrated the most terror.
There is little evidence that the master strategists who run this country are interested in genuinely resolving the eight-decade-old Baloch question. Those who claim to be on the side of the people, particularly those in the core regions of the country, must not do their bidding, and at the very least use critical analytical lenses to make sense of what is going on in Balochistan.
Working people from Punjab to Balochistan are not perpetrators of hate. They can, however, become conveyor belts for the politics of hate. It is this which must be resisted at all costs.
The writer teaches at Quaid-i-Azam University, Islamabad.
Published in Dawn, August 30th, 2024
Balochistan — a way forward
Abbas Nasir
AS violence erupted in Balochistan on the 18th anniversary of Nawab Akbar Khan Bugti’s killing, about two dozen unarmed civilian bus travellers and lorry drivers, mostly from southern Punjab, were among the 50 killed. Baloch insurgents also targeted infrastructure, such as a railway bridge and a number of security force bases.
Those killed included a woman suicide bomber and one man, who reportedly drove a VBIED (vehicle-borne improvised explosive device or a vehicle bomb) to breach a security force base’s perimeter. They were followed by other attackers who entered and engaged law-enforcement personnel.
There were at least seven coordinated attacks, from Musakhel near the Punjab border, where the murders of unarmed travellers took place, to other areas where different sites were targeted. In my memory, these were some of the most violent, coordinated attacks targeting state writ in the province.
The province has been on the boil since the killing of Nawab Bugti in a military assault on his mountain hideout near Dera Bugti, where he had moved from his ancestral home anticipating state action. (Suffice it to say that it was the ego of the late General Pervez Musharraf and some horrendous counsel by his belligerent Military Intelligence chief, a relative of his, that led to the escalation and blocked a peaceful resolution).
The state has ushered poster-boy proxies into public offices, and disenfranchised Baloch of credible representation — to disastrous results.
Since then, the state has relied solely on an iron fist to ‘deal’ with the ‘Balochistan issue’, rather than address the ‘issue of Baloch rights’ against the backdrop of increasing alienation of the local population and escalating violence.
While the lead security player in the province, apart from reissuing past statements, remained largely silent on the Aug 26 violence, it was left to the civilian leading lights of the hybrid set-up to speak and share their understanding of the gravity of the situation.
Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif presided over a security meeting attended by the army chief and all security officials. The official statement highlighting the decisions taken at the meeting informed Pakistanis that the country’s chief executive had decided to “post police and administration officers of the 48th Common … to be followed by the 49th Common.”
Officers from the two batches, or courses, of the Police Service of Pakistan and the Pakistan Administrative Service were offered a number of incentives to serve in the restive province, including two tickets every quarter to visit their families.
Perhaps the prime minister had read the excellent piece by respected former law-enforcement boss, Tariq Khosa, in last Saturday’s Dawn, headlined ‘Quest for justice’, and was inspired by it. (Please do read it if you missed it). But if that is all he found inspiring in that all-encompassing piece, I can only despair.
Despair is what many Pakistanis have to live with, and this must include all of us who try and analyse the situation and comment on it. But there is despair and then there is despair, if you know what I mean. And if you don’t, allow me to explain.
How would you react if the day after some four dozen of your citizens, half of them or more unarmed, have been killed by a hail of bullets, even if they survived the suicide bombing, and your interior minister has this to say: Dehshatgard ek SHO ki mar hein (The terrorists can be sorted out by an SHO). An SHO is a local, low-level police officer.
This statement comes against the backdrop of an escalation by both sides and after years of enforced disappearances and apparent kill-and-dump state policy and insurgent violence. If we add up the total number of police, paramilitary personnel, including FC and Levies, I am sure it´ll run into thousands across the province. And everyone knows that the military back-up is also there. This indicates that far too many of our brave security personnel have perished in the spiral.
Asma Jahangir, the iconic human rights advocate-campaigner, once told her critics, who were targeting her for supporting talks with Baloch separatists while opposing any such dialogue with TTP, that, ‘There is a difference’. The Baloch are struggling for their political and economic rights, while the Taliban want to impose their warped interpretation of faith on the country at gunpoint.
I wish the state could make that distinction. It has ushered poster-boy proxies into public offices and disenfranchised Baloch of legitimate and credible representation — to disastrous results. Perhaps it is time to look for a different approach. In fact, it is the patriotic duty of each and every decision-maker to explore other avenues.
And if such a path is pursued, it should be adhered to with more sincerity than when Dr Malik Baloch, as the chief minister, and retired Lt-General Qadir Baloch, then of the PML-N, established contact with an estranged Baloch leader who was willing to enter dialogue, promised to revert to him with a response to his queries, and were, in all probability, vetoed by the security establishment and never returned to the discussions.
This lack of political engagement will have very definitely strengthened the hands of the hostile external forces invested in fuelling instability in Pakistan and would, in fact, play directly into their agenda. That is neither wise, prudent nor will it deliver any security dividend.
Perhaps, once they are done reiterating their iron hand resolve to deal with it, they might be persuaded to look at the British government’s policy formulation and execution in its dialogue with the IRA, or how Spain ended its years-long war with the Basque separatist group ETA. Both countries and their people benefitted from peace, and nobody accused their governments of being lily-livered.
Specifically, if they agree, there should be a brainstorm among Balochistan experts such as Tariq Khosa, Akhtar Mengal, Dr Malik Baloch, Aslam Bhootani (an old friend of mine; just go and see the development in his constituency in Dureji, in the Hub-Lasbela area), the current DGI Lt-General Nadeem Anjum and Dr Mahrang Baloch, who continues to support a peaceful struggle for rights. Add Rana Sanaullah, the PML-N leader, because he knows what it is like to be on the receiving end. And see if a way forward can be found.
The writer is a former editor of Dawn.
abbas.nasir@hotmail.com
Published in Dawn, September 1st, 2024
Abbas Nasir
Published September 1, 2024
DAWN
DAWN
AS violence erupted in Balochistan on the 18th anniversary of Nawab Akbar Khan Bugti’s killing, about two dozen unarmed civilian bus travellers and lorry drivers, mostly from southern Punjab, were among the 50 killed. Baloch insurgents also targeted infrastructure, such as a railway bridge and a number of security force bases.
Those killed included a woman suicide bomber and one man, who reportedly drove a VBIED (vehicle-borne improvised explosive device or a vehicle bomb) to breach a security force base’s perimeter. They were followed by other attackers who entered and engaged law-enforcement personnel.
There were at least seven coordinated attacks, from Musakhel near the Punjab border, where the murders of unarmed travellers took place, to other areas where different sites were targeted. In my memory, these were some of the most violent, coordinated attacks targeting state writ in the province.
The province has been on the boil since the killing of Nawab Bugti in a military assault on his mountain hideout near Dera Bugti, where he had moved from his ancestral home anticipating state action. (Suffice it to say that it was the ego of the late General Pervez Musharraf and some horrendous counsel by his belligerent Military Intelligence chief, a relative of his, that led to the escalation and blocked a peaceful resolution).
The state has ushered poster-boy proxies into public offices, and disenfranchised Baloch of credible representation — to disastrous results.
Since then, the state has relied solely on an iron fist to ‘deal’ with the ‘Balochistan issue’, rather than address the ‘issue of Baloch rights’ against the backdrop of increasing alienation of the local population and escalating violence.
While the lead security player in the province, apart from reissuing past statements, remained largely silent on the Aug 26 violence, it was left to the civilian leading lights of the hybrid set-up to speak and share their understanding of the gravity of the situation.
Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif presided over a security meeting attended by the army chief and all security officials. The official statement highlighting the decisions taken at the meeting informed Pakistanis that the country’s chief executive had decided to “post police and administration officers of the 48th Common … to be followed by the 49th Common.”
Officers from the two batches, or courses, of the Police Service of Pakistan and the Pakistan Administrative Service were offered a number of incentives to serve in the restive province, including two tickets every quarter to visit their families.
Perhaps the prime minister had read the excellent piece by respected former law-enforcement boss, Tariq Khosa, in last Saturday’s Dawn, headlined ‘Quest for justice’, and was inspired by it. (Please do read it if you missed it). But if that is all he found inspiring in that all-encompassing piece, I can only despair.
Despair is what many Pakistanis have to live with, and this must include all of us who try and analyse the situation and comment on it. But there is despair and then there is despair, if you know what I mean. And if you don’t, allow me to explain.
How would you react if the day after some four dozen of your citizens, half of them or more unarmed, have been killed by a hail of bullets, even if they survived the suicide bombing, and your interior minister has this to say: Dehshatgard ek SHO ki mar hein (The terrorists can be sorted out by an SHO). An SHO is a local, low-level police officer.
This statement comes against the backdrop of an escalation by both sides and after years of enforced disappearances and apparent kill-and-dump state policy and insurgent violence. If we add up the total number of police, paramilitary personnel, including FC and Levies, I am sure it´ll run into thousands across the province. And everyone knows that the military back-up is also there. This indicates that far too many of our brave security personnel have perished in the spiral.
Asma Jahangir, the iconic human rights advocate-campaigner, once told her critics, who were targeting her for supporting talks with Baloch separatists while opposing any such dialogue with TTP, that, ‘There is a difference’. The Baloch are struggling for their political and economic rights, while the Taliban want to impose their warped interpretation of faith on the country at gunpoint.
I wish the state could make that distinction. It has ushered poster-boy proxies into public offices and disenfranchised Baloch of legitimate and credible representation — to disastrous results. Perhaps it is time to look for a different approach. In fact, it is the patriotic duty of each and every decision-maker to explore other avenues.
And if such a path is pursued, it should be adhered to with more sincerity than when Dr Malik Baloch, as the chief minister, and retired Lt-General Qadir Baloch, then of the PML-N, established contact with an estranged Baloch leader who was willing to enter dialogue, promised to revert to him with a response to his queries, and were, in all probability, vetoed by the security establishment and never returned to the discussions.
This lack of political engagement will have very definitely strengthened the hands of the hostile external forces invested in fuelling instability in Pakistan and would, in fact, play directly into their agenda. That is neither wise, prudent nor will it deliver any security dividend.
Perhaps, once they are done reiterating their iron hand resolve to deal with it, they might be persuaded to look at the British government’s policy formulation and execution in its dialogue with the IRA, or how Spain ended its years-long war with the Basque separatist group ETA. Both countries and their people benefitted from peace, and nobody accused their governments of being lily-livered.
Specifically, if they agree, there should be a brainstorm among Balochistan experts such as Tariq Khosa, Akhtar Mengal, Dr Malik Baloch, Aslam Bhootani (an old friend of mine; just go and see the development in his constituency in Dureji, in the Hub-Lasbela area), the current DGI Lt-General Nadeem Anjum and Dr Mahrang Baloch, who continues to support a peaceful struggle for rights. Add Rana Sanaullah, the PML-N leader, because he knows what it is like to be on the receiving end. And see if a way forward can be found.
The writer is a former editor of Dawn.
abbas.nasir@hotmail.com
Published in Dawn, September 1st, 2024
Published September 1, 2024
DAWN
DAWN
AN unprecedented wave of province-wide violence in Balochistan, launched by the banned Baloch Liberation Army (BLA), has raised significant concerns about the level of unrest in the province and the state’s response. The situation escalated further when passengers were forcibly removed from trucks and buses and shot after their identities were checked in Musakhel district. This incident sparked outrage in Punjab, as the victims were targeted due to their ethnic identity, being from Punjab.
In response, a few social media users from Punjab initiated a campaign against Quetta-based restaurants spread across Punjab, run mainly by Pakhtuns. These individuals also called for the expulsion of Baloch students from universities in Punjab. This reaction played directly into the insurgents’ hands. In conflicts, the identities of the real perpetrators and victims often become blurred, exacerbating the situation and widening the scope of the conflict.
The Musakhel incident has once again sparked debate about why Baloch insurgents specifically target labourers and travellers carrying computerised national identity cards from Punjab. The existing literature on the subject fails to provide a convincing and updated explanation of the insurgents’ motivations, typically focusing on the historical grievances of the Baloch against the federation, ethnic differences, and a sense of political disenfranchisement. To gain a more comprehensive understanding, it’s crucial to consult informed individuals on the ground and consider observations that offer a broader perspective on how insurgents and counterinsurgents view the issue.
A common perception is that Baloch insurgents target Punjabi labourers and travellers because they believe the Punjabi establishment is exploiting their resources. While this may be one factor shaping their narrative, it is not the whole story. The insurgents also target Baloch labourers and travellers from south Punjab, a region with a sizeable Baloch population and where Baloch nationalists lay claim to several districts. The insurgents argue that they target those whom they believe are serving in security services or are part of any state-led development project, regardless of their ethnic background. In the past, they have similarly targeted Sindhi and Pakhtun labourers under the same suspicion. However, most victims have proven to be ordinary citizens without ties to the security services. For instance, Sindhis working as private labourers or in fruit markets have generally not been targeted, unlike those employed by public contractors.
In conflicts, the identities of the real perpetrators and victims often become blurred.
Targeting civilians is a challenging decision for any insurgent or violent movement, as it can be counterproductive, damaging their image and raising questions about their ideological and political foundations. A similar situation occurred with the Tehreek-i-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) when they began targeting civilians, leading to divisions within their ranks. Internal discussions eventually forced them to alter their strategy of targeting non-combatants. A similar dynamic might occur within the Baloch insurgent ranks, where the BLA is more radical than other factions. The BLA justifies targeting non-combatant Punjabis by arguing that these are ‘retaliatory attacks’ in response to the disappearance and mutilation of Baloch individuals in the province. The BLA believes that targeting Punjabis inflicts the most harm on the military and stirs anger in Punjab against state institutions.
However, since the inception of the current phase of insurgency from 2002 to 2007, insurgents began threatening and killing Punjabi settlers in Quetta and later in other Baloch districts, despite Nawab Akbar Bugti condemning these actions and arguing that targeting innocents cannot be justified. In response to this criticism, insurgents developed the narrative that these settlers, particularly barbers, are the eyes and ears of intelligence agencies.
Beyond these justifications, targeting Punjabis is a well-developed strategy for the insurgent groups. By doing so, they can provoke the security forces into launching large-scale military campaigns, which often lack widespread acceptance among the population and generate more sympathy for the insurgents. Military operations reduce the space for political dialogue, which benefits the insurgents, as they feel more threatened by political initiatives than military action.
The insurgents are well aware of the consequences of attacking innocent Punjabi civilians, knowing it can provoke anger against the Baloch, particularly the youth studying and living in Punjab. However, Baloch insurgents, especially the BLA, believe that their survival depends on complete isolation from the rest of the country, particularly from Punjab. Hard-line Baloch nationalists also support this view, arguing that retaliation against Baloch students in Punjab and Islamabad is beneficial, as it will fuel anti-Punjab sentiments and deepen the divide, increasing hatred against Punjab.
State institutions can counter the insurgents’ designs through a well-crafted strategy rather than reacting impulsively. There is growing support for the idea that one of the most effective counterinsurgency strategies would be to sincerely address the issue of missing persons — unlike past attempts, such as the Justice Javed Iqbal-led Commission, which proved counterproductive and further eroded public trust in the state.
Engaging with figures like Mahrang Baloch could be a strategic move, as she has gained significant influence in the province, outshining nationalist parties, including Maulana Hidayatur Rehman. Rehman, who once championed the rights of the people of Gwadar, has remained silent since his election to the provincial assembly. If state institutions are unwilling to engage her in any political process, they must devise a policy to address the issue that earns the complete trust of the victims’ families. Such an initiative could involve trusted parliamentarians and civil society actors. In either case, it would help to pacify the anger among the broader Baloch community.
The state’s real challenge is to counter the insurgents’ propaganda, which claims that the state aims to eliminate Baloch identity by exploiting its resources and encouraging mass migration from other parts of the country, particularly Punjab. Only the Baloch themselves can help the state devise an effective strategy to combat this narrative — not those sharing power with the establishment and benefiting from the prolonged conflict.
The writer is a security analyst.
Published in Dawn, September 1st, 2024
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