New Delhi, Sep 10 (IANS) Balochistan has been the theater of insurgency since 1948, the year after Pakistan’s creation, when the princely state of Kalat was forcibly annexed against the wishes of its people. From that moment onward, the relationship between Balochistan and the Pakistani state has been defined not by partnership but by coercion.
Successive uprisings—in 1958, in the 1970s, in the early 2000s, and in the present—have all been fueled by systemic repression, plunder of natural resources, and the denial of political agency to the Baloch. The latest wave, led by the Balochistan Liberation Army (BLA) and other groups, has proved especially enduring because it is no longer confined to tribal leaders alone.
Educated Baloch youth, alienated by decades of exploitation and state brutality, have taken up arms, transforming the resistance into a modern, decentralized insurgency. This has thrown the Pakistan Army into crisis: despite being one of the world’s largest militaries with vast resources, it cannot crush a people determined to resist occupation.
Fighter jets of the Pakistan Air Force reportedly carried out strikes in parts of Mach, located in Balochistan’s Bolan region, last week. This is not the behavior of a legitimate government but the desperate act of a regime that has failed to win the loyalty of its citizens.
By unleashing airpower against its own population, Islamabad exposes its moral bankruptcy and its inability to govern through consent. The use of military aircraft is not a show of strength—it is an admission of weakness. Pakistan’s rulers, dominated by the Army, have proven incapable of addressing grievances through dialogue, inclusion, or justice, and instead resort to bombs and bullets.
These strikes are less about defeating insurgents than about terrorizing entire communities into submission. In doing so, the state abandons even the pretense of democracy and reveals itself as a predator turning against those it claims to govern.
The Pakistan Army’s reliance on airstrikes stems from its repeated failures on the ground. Despite deploying tens of thousands of troops and operating an extensive intelligence network, the Army has suffered humiliating losses.
According to the Pakistan Institute for Peace Studies, Balochistan witnessed over 120 insurgent attacks in 2023 alone, killing and wounding hundreds of security personnel. The Bolan region, where Mach is located, has become a graveyard for convoys and patrols ambushed by the BLA. Urban centers too have not been spared—high-profile attacks in Karachi and Gwadar demonstrate that the insurgency has outgrown the Army’s control.
Each such incident chips away at the Army’s aura of invincibility, proving that its soldiers are not liberators but unwelcome occupiers in Balochistan.
It is not just the Army’s incompetence that is on display, but its utter disregard for human life. Airstrikes within populated areas are almost guaranteed to kill civilians, and yet Pakistan continues to use them.
Independent reporting is often suppressed through media blackouts, but rights groups have consistently pointed to widespread civilian casualties in previous operations.
These deaths are dismissed by the state as “collateral damage,” a term that reveals its dehumanizing attitude toward the Baloch people. When a government bombs its own citizens, it forfeits its claim to legitimacy. Every strike fuels anger, grief, and resentment, ensuring that new generations join the insurgency. The Pakistan Army may kill with impunity, but it cannot kill the idea of freedom that drives the resistance.
The economic exploitation of Balochistan further exposes the predatory nature of the Pakistani state. The province produces a significant share of Pakistan’s natural gas and possesses rich deposits of copper, gold, and other minerals. Yet the Baloch people live in poverty.
Literacy rates hover around 40 per cent, far below the national average, while poverty levels exceed 40 per cent in many districts. Basic services like healthcare, clean water, and electricity remain scarce.
The wealth of Balochistan is siphoned off to benefit elites in Punjab and Sindh, while the local population is left destitute.
This economic plunder, protected by the Army’s guns, is not development—it is colonial extraction in all but name. Airstrikes in regions like Mach should be seen for what they are: acts of state terrorism designed to secure control over resources, not to protect ordinary citizens.
The resort to airpower also highlights the deep rot at the heart of Pakistan’s civil-military imbalance. Civilian governments have no real say in Balochistan; the Army calls the shots. Decisions about security, development, and negotiations are monopolized by the generals, while parliament and provincial assemblies are reduced to spectators.
Airstrikes cannot be authorized without high-level military approval, making them a stark reminder of who truly rules Pakistan. Far from being a democratic state, Pakistan functions as a military dictatorship in everything but name. The Army presents itself as the guardian of national unity, yet in Balochistan it behaves like a foreign occupier, destroying villages and terrorizing people into silence.
From the perspective of state theory, Pakistan is crossing into dangerous territory. A state that governs through bombs instead of ballots ceases to be a protector and becomes a predator. Political scientists like Charles Tilly have long argued that legitimacy rests on the state’s ability to provide security and justice to its citizens. Pakistan provides neither in Balochistan. Instead, it demands obedience through fear.
The imagery of fighter jets bombing Baloch villages will not inspire loyalty to the state—it will deepen alienation and reinforce the nationalist narrative that Pakistan is an occupying power.
Far from quelling rebellion, such brutality guarantees its continuation. Supporters of the airstrikes argue that they are necessary to protect national security and safeguard infrastructure projects, particularly those linked to the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC). But this claim collapses under scrutiny.
Security cannot be built on repression; every airstrike makes Balochistan more unstable, not less. Investors see not safety but volatility.
Even China has repeatedly urged Pakistan to seek political solutions, knowing that economic projects cannot thrive in a war zone. History has shown that the Baloch insurgency cannot be crushed militarily. Previous uprisings were quelled only through political compromise. By refusing dialogue and doubling down on force, Pakistan ensures that this insurgency will persist for decades.
The alternatives are obvious but remain deliberately ignored by Pakistan’s rulers.
Dialogue, resource-sharing, and genuine provincial autonomy could address Baloch grievances. But the military establishment equates compromise with defeat, preferring to rule through intimidation. This mindset condemns the people of Balochistan to endless cycles of violence, while ordinary soldiers and civilians alike pay the price.
The Army’s generals, however, remain insulated, enriching themselves through land grabs, business empires, and control over the state’s resources. For them, Balochistan is not a home to citizens with rights but a territory to be subdued and exploited. The latest airstrikes in Mach must therefore be seen not as isolated events but as part of a long-standing pattern of state violence.
They reflect the Pakistan Army’s inability to defeat the Baloch resistance on the ground, its contempt for civilian life, and its desperation to cling to a crumbling narrative of control. By turning fighter jets against its own population, Pakistan reveals the truth of its governance: it rules not by consent but by coercion. A state that bombs its own citizens has already lost the moral right to govern them.
In Balochistan, the air force may control the skies, but on the ground, the desire for freedom runs too deep to be extinguished by bombs. Every strike only strengthens the conviction that Pakistan is not a homeland but a colonizer, and that liberation, not submission, is the only path forward.
–IANS
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