Belucistan'daki Krizin Derinleşen Yüzü: Can Kayıpları ve Güven Krizi

The Balochistan tragedy

THE rising death toll from the reported clashes between security forces and outlawed terrorist groups tells less than half the story of Balochistan. The strategically important province has been suffering for decades, and the crisis continues to worsen. Blocking the news cannot alter the reality on the ground. The situation points to a fractured state that is losing both public trust and effective control. Unfortunately, there is little attempt to address the political and social causes of the crisis. The state’s reliance on kinetic tactics shows that it has learned few lessons from the failed policies over the past two decades. After scores of policemen were killed in Ziarat earlier this month, the prime minister briefly interrupted his foreign tours to visit Quetta and reiterated that his government would fight until the last terrorist. We have heard this refrain for years, even as terrorism is taking hold across the province. The latest wave of attacks underscores the growing operational capacity of the groups. Security forces say they have killed hundreds of terrorists in operations, yet there has been no tangible sign of the violence abating. If anything, it is spreading. Viewing the Balochistan crisis solely through a security prism has only deepened people’s alienation. Although Balochistan has experienced three phases of armed unrest since the creation of Pakistan, the roots of the current phase began two decades ago in the Musharraf era with the killing of Akbar Bugti. That action by the state triggered violence across many parts of the province. Balochistan had remained relatively quiet after civilian rule was restored in 1988, bringing Baloch nationalists into the political mainstream. It is true that their major demands, including those related to royalties from natural gas and the fair allocation of resources remained unfulfilled, but democracy at least gave the Baloch people a sense of political participation in the system. Tensions began to mount when the Gen Musharraf-led military government in 2004 announced controversial plans to expand the security presence that were widely viewed as an attempt to tighten federal control over the province. The apprehension was not without basis. The problem of Balochistan is a long-standing one and it is reflected in the direct consequences of an overly centralised system. The fresh deployment of security personnel further fuelled discontent. The power imbalance has been far starker in Balochistan than in any other province. Unfortunately, there is little attempt to address the political and social causes of the crisis. I recall visiting Akbar Bugti at his home in Dera Bugti in late 2005, some months before his death. The town looked as if it were under siege. Heavy artillery and armoured vehicles had been deployed along the roads from Sui to Dera Bugti. Some of the buildings around his residence had been damaged by intermittent firing by security forces. I stayed in Dera Bugti for three days and had several conversations with Bugti, who was then one of the province’s most powerful tribal chieftains. Having also served as its governor and chief minister, he was well versed in the political developments unfolding around him and, backed by armed tribesmen, appeared prepared for a clash with the state. Although the dispute over royalties from the Sui gas field had been simmering for years, the government’s questionable actions to expand the security footprint in the area escalated the stand-off. However, there was still room for negotiations. A Senate subcommittee comprising Baloch senators and members of the government benches had recommended increasing royalties from the Sui gas field and addressing the socioeconomic issues that underpinned Balochistan’s grievances. It is unfortunate that the government took no action on the report. The province supplied much of Pakistan’s gas and possessed substantial mineral resources, but remains, to this day, one of the country’s most economically backward areas. Akbar Bugti’s killing by security forces in Kohlu in August 2006 aggravated the situation, with the authorities responding to the ensuing violence with force. Reports of the bullet-riddled bodies of dissidents and enforced disappearances further alienated the population. The rebellion was not confined to the tribal heartland. Makran and the coastal regions had become its main centres. Having lost hope of attaining democratic and economic rights through political channels, many in the ranks of the educated youth joined the now proscribed groups. Baloch nationalist parties were sidelined and unrepresentative governments installed. It is clear that dissent is not tolerated in the province. The government often accuses Baloch tribal chiefs of blackmailing the centre and opposing development projects in the region. Yet most of the chieftains, particularly the most reactionary among them, have consistently sided with the rulers. Corruption is endemic, but the state itself bears much of the responsibility. It is well known that patronage and bribery are routinely used to buy the loyalty of politicians and thus preserve the state’s control. It is true that the political discontent has created a situation that is conducive to external involvement. But the latter must not be used as a pretext to usurp the democratic rights of the people. The current situation along with a hostile border with Afghanistan and the prospect of Iran’s destabilisation by the American-Israeli duo, could give terrorist groups more room and outside support to operate. An alienated local population provides the ideal ground for violent elements, who have also killed many civilians, which is what we are witnessing in the province today. The growing intensity of the operations by these elements is ominous. More than 25 years have passed since the armed unrest began, and attempts to crush it through brute force have only worsened the situation. The crisis is getting out of control, as the writ of the state is clearly weakening in the province. Yet there seems to be little recognition of the seriousness of the situation. Statements such as ‘we will fight until the last terrorist’ reflect the government’s disconnect with the situation on the ground. Time is running out. The writer is an author and journalist. zhussain100@yahoo.com X: @hidhussain Published in Dawn, July 22nd, 2026