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.
Published in Dawn, September 1st, 2024
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