banner-frontier

The Unseen War

Balochistan is not Pakistan

Ashish Singh

For more than seven decades, Balochistan has been held in a chokehold–its people trapped between the dreams of dignity and the machinery of state violence. This arid, mineral-rich region, forming nearly half of Pakistan’s territory, is the least developed and most brutally governed. Though cloaked in silence by mainstream international media, the story of Balochistan is one of relentless subjugation, dispossession, and erasure. But it is also a story of a people who have refused to vanish, who have chosen resistance in the face of annihilation.

In 2025, a moment of profound consequence unfolded when Mir Yar Baloch, a leading figure of the Baloch national movement, declared independence from Pakistan. This was not a spontaneous cry–it was the culmination of generations of resistance and sacrifice. The declaration came amid an intensifying wave of state repression, where enforced disappearances have become a terrifying norm and mass graves speak the truths that officials deny. In this context, Mir Yar’s words became more than symbolic; they were the articulation of a political will long buried under the debris of silence and suppression.

The Pakistani state’s relationship with Balochistan is not one of inclusion, but extraction. Gas from Balochistan lights up homes in Punjab while Baloch villages remain in darkness. Its mountains are stripped of resources while its people face surveillance, abductions, and torture. Entire families live in the trauma of not knowing whether their sons or daughters are dead or disappeared. This systemic violence has given rise to a movement that now transcends generations, genders, and geographies.

One of the most enduring voices in this resistance is Dr Allah Nazar Baloch, a medical doctor who traded his stethoscope for survival as a guerrilla fighter. His recent video message from an undisclosed location was a reaffirmation that the flame of resistance, though flickering under military pressure, still burns. In the same breath, one must speak of Dr Mahrang Baloch, whose leadership in the Baloch long march to Islamabad earlier this year marked a new phase in the struggle. Young, articulate, and fearless, she has challenged both the state’s brutality and the world’s indifference. Her call is not just for the disappeared to be returned, but for justice to be recognised as a right, not a privilege.

Despite countless reports from Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, and Baloch rights organisations, the world remains largely unmoved. Pakistan continues to enjoy uncritical support from many Western powers in the name of strategic alignment and regional stability. But what stability is this that rests on mass graves and broken families? Each refusal to acknowledge Balochistan’s reality becomes a quiet endorsement of impunity. The silence is not accidental–it is geopolitical.

India, for its part, has occasionally raised the issue of Balochistan in international forums, most notably in 2016. But such statements, while important, have remained sporadic and largely symbolic. Given Balochistan’s strategic location and the human cost of Pakistan’s policies, New Delhi could do far more to bring this issue to the global stage. This does not necessitate militarisation or intervention. It requires moral clarity and diplomatic resolve–to elevate Baloch voices, to support their right to self-determination, and to remind the world that decolonisation is not yet complete.

What makes the Baloch cause uniquely powerful is that it is not just a struggle against occupation, but a fight for dignity, voice, and identity. The people of Balochistan are not seeking vengeance; they are seeking recognition. The resistance is no longer limited to remote mountain ranges–it lives in university campuses, in the diaspora, in women’s marches, and digital protests. It is as much a struggle of the mind as it is of territory.

To frame Balochistan merely as a domestic matter of Pakistan is to perpetuate the very denialism that has enabled decades of suffering. It is a question that belongs to the conscience of the world. The demand for freedom is not an abstraction–it is rooted in lived histories, in disappeared fathers, in tortured sons, and in defiant daughters who still stand tall.

There is an urgency that cannot be overstated. This is not just another chapter in South Asia’s turbulent political history. The world failed East Timor until it couldn’t anymore. It ignored Eritrea until the bloodshed made ignorance impossible. Will it now wait for Balochistan to bleed more before it listens?

The Baloch are not asking for saviours. They are demanding to be seen, to be heard, and to be free on their own terms. That call, grounded in pain and sharpened by history, deserves a global hearing, not out of pity, but out of principled solidarity. In that light, the declaration of freedom by Mir Yar Baloch is not the end of a struggle–it may just be the beginning of a long-overdue reckoning.

[Ashish Singh has finished his Ph.D. coursework in political science from the NRU-HSE, Moscow, Russia. He has previously studied at Oslo Metropolitan University, Norway, and TISS, Mumbai. First published in.countercurrents.org]

Back to Home Page

Frontier
Vol 57, No. 52, June 22 - 28, 2025