The Director General of the Inter-Services Public Relations (DG ISPR) recently made remarks on the Baloch conflict that, though intended to project unity, raise troubling questions about the state’s approach to this long-festering crisis. A message framed as positive risks turning negative if it fails to fully recognise the realities to which it is applied.
The Baloch insurgency is not merely a law-and-order issue, nor can it be resolved through rhetorical invocations of religious identity or the selective glorification of a few successful individuals of Baloch origin. When weighed against the ground realities of Balochistan, such narratives are not only inadequate but may even prove counterproductive.
This year alone, Baloch separatist groups have killed nearly 17 individuals accused of working as agents of the Pakistan Army, while an almost equal number were executed for alleged links to the so-called “Death Squad”—a militia widely believed by separatists to have been created by the state to counter them. At the same time, the Death Squad itself has been implicated in the killing of nine people, along with multiple cases of abduction. This cycle of retaliatory violence between insurgents, pro-state groups, and shadowy militias has created a bleak environment in which ordinary citizens are trapped in a relentless and deadly crossfire.
In this context, the DG ISPR’s emphasis on “local support” for military operations is deeply problematic. When the military publicly acknowledges reliance on local informants, those individuals and communities are immediately placed on the hit list of insurgents. The promise of protection becomes meaningless when the state cannot shield these civilians from retaliatory violence. Such statements may end up providing separatists with more justification to target their fellow Baloch under accusations of collaboration.
More than a decade ago, then–Army Chief General Ashfaq Pervez Kayani noted that Baloch representation in the army had increased from 1.7 per cent to 3.5 per cent over three years, with over 12,000 soldiers recruited from the province. Whether that momentum has continued is difficult to assess today, given the absence of updated data. What is evident, however, is that many of the soldiers killed in separatist attacks in recent years have been from Punjab or Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, raising persistent questions about the overall balance of representation within the ranks. The Jaffar Express hijacking underscored this dynamic: one of the reasons militants targeted the train was the unusually large number of army personnel on board, many of whom were travelling to Punjab and KP for Eid celebrations.
If the Kalima is indeed the foundation of this country, then justice, equality, and dignity must be extended to every citizen
It would be simplistic to attribute this disparity solely to institutional discrimination. Structural challenges also play a significant role: the scattered population of Balochistan, its deeply tribal social order, and the chronic neglect of education have all limited the opportunities available to Baloch youth. Addressing these challenges is not the responsibility of the military alone but the fundamental duty of the state. Tragically, successive governments have failed to meet this responsibility, and the cost of that failure continues to be borne by the people of Balochistan—and by Pakistan as a whole.
Equally troubling is the tendency to invoke religious identity as the sole foundation of the state. Pakistan may indeed have been created in the name of the Kalima, but if that principle is to carry real meaning, then all citizens—Baloch, Punjabi, Sindhi, Pashtun, or otherwise—must be treated as equal stakeholders in the national project. An overemphasis on religion as the exclusive marker of national identity, however, risks sending a negative message to non-Muslim minorities, who are no less part of the country’s social fabric. To be fair, the DG ISPR’s intention was to counter the ethnic narrative promoted by Baloch separatists, and in doing so, he sought to articulate a broader vision of national identity that transcends ethnicity and draws strength from a religious bond shared by the majority.
To counter ethnic-based violence by Baloch separatists with a religious slogan raises a deeper question: How should the state treat jihadi militants who, under the umbrella of the TTP and its affiliates, are wreaking havoc across the country? They, too, recite the same Kalima as the rest of Pakistan’s Muslim population, yet their acts of terrorism continue to inflict serious damage on the foundations of the state. Indeed, the Army Chief himself recently urged the Afghan Taliban to abandon policies that destabilise Pakistan by supporting such groups. Ultimately, crimes must be judged in legal terms—not religious ones. Both the Baloch separatists and the TTP have been reported by the UN to be working in tandem to pursue their shared goal of destabilising Pakistan and asserting their writ according to their respective ideologies. This should serve as a wake-up call for Pakistan’s civil and military leadership: why do the TTP’s religious slogans appear more compelling to some Baloch separatists than the state’s religious narratives?
Another troubling aspect of the state’s narrative is the use of “success stories” of prominent Baloch individuals as evidence of empowerment. The reality is that many such figures—whether in sports, academia, or the arts—achieved recognition largely due to their migration abroad and the opportunities they found outside Pakistan. Their success is rarely, if ever, a product of state facilitation. By highlighting such examples, the state risks alienating the broader Baloch population, who see in these stories not empowerment through inclusion but escape through exile.
The Baloch conflict is at its core a political problem that requires political solutions. It cannot be reduced to religious sloganeering, token examples of fame, or appeals to militarised patriotism. A genuine reconciliation process demands recognition of historical grievances, equal treatment across institutions, and a commitment to protect all citizens—not just those who align with the state. Until then, narratives like the one recently put forward by the DG ISPR will do little more than strengthen the separatists’ argument that Balochistan remains treated as an outpost of control rather than as an equal partner in Pakistan’s federation.
If the Kalima is indeed the foundation of this country, then justice, equality, and dignity must be extended to every citizen. Without that, the promise of Pakistan will always ring hollow in Balochistan.