“When we see others as the enemy, we risk becoming what we hate.” Nobel Peace Laureate Desmond Tutu’s quote perfectly captures the tragic irony of ethnic violence in Balochistan. The province has witnessed generations lost in this hatred that reaps nothing.
Quetta, the capital of Balochistan, was once the melting pot of different ethnicities of Pakistan. But who would have thought that this land, famous for its hospitality, would one day become conservatively narrowminded for particular ethnicities? Over the years, numerous Punjabis have been ruthlessly targeted in the province: labourers, drivers, teachers, doctors, the elderly, and even travelers with families. Hundreds and thousands of families have migrated to other provinces, leaving back their businesses, properties and even their ancestral cemeteries in the rovince, to which they gave their everything. Their only crime being their identity.
In contrast to that, individuals from Balochistan not only travel freely across other provinces, particularly Punjab, but many have also settled there, earning livelihoods and seeking better opportunities. Despite this, no instance has ever been reported where the residents of Balochistan were targeted by a Punjabi, Sindhi or Pashtun simply out of ethnic hatred. This raises a crucial question: why does this deeply rooted hostility persist in Balochistan alone?
The ethno-militant groups justify their actions by claiming suppression by the state and exploitation of their resources by outsiders. At face value, these grievances might warrant political discourse, but turning their hatred toward every Punjabi makes them the very oppressors they claim to resist. The systematic targeting of innocent civilians is not a rebellion against injustice, it is an injustice in itself.
Even if these militants reject Pakistani laws, they cannot be oblivious to international law, which holds them accountable for their actions. Dehumanizing individuals based on ethnicity is not just a violation of international humanitarian law but also an act of terrorism, punishable under global legal frameworks. Several key provisions underscore this: Article 3 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights guarantees every individual’s right to life, liberty, and security. Article 2 of the UDHR prohibits discrimination based on race and ethnicity. Article 26 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR) provides protection against ethnic discrimination. The Geneva Conventions and Additional Protocol II classify ethnic-based killings as potential war crimes. The Convention on the Elimination of All Forms of Racial Discrimination mandates signatories to protect citizens from racial violence. Article 7 of the Rome Statute of the International Criminal Court states that widespread and systematic ethnic cleansing can constitute crimes against humanity.
No ideology, no matter how passionately defended, justifies the killing of innocent, unarmed civilians. Militants may argue for the merit of their cause, but the moment they resort to bloodshed against non-combatants, they forfeit any claim to moral legitimacy.
While the militant attacks in Balochistan are increasing, the government’s inaction is pushing the masses into despair. The ordinary individuals are put through severe security checks, which is seen as an ordeal by them and the security lapses, after such ordeals become more frustrating for them. As one disillusioned resident of Balochistan vented on social media:
“One side doesn’t allow us to travel without ID cards, while the other side doesn’t allow us to travel with them. We are crushed between both.”
The February 19 target killing of Punjabi travellers occurred just hundreds of metres from a Levies check post on N-70 National Highway. Shockingly, this was the second such attack on the same highway and in the same vicinity within a few months.
Balochistan doesn’t need empty rhetoric: it needs action. Without serious introspection and decisive intervention, the province edges closer to a point of no return where silence means nothing but complicity.
The masses hardly see any hope. A worker in Quetta confided to me: “Will it be safe to travel in a private car? I brought my family here, and now I worry how to send them back. We all have Punjab addresses on our CNICs.”
This isn’t just one man’s fear– it is the silent terror gripping thousands of labourers in Balochistan. They have committed no crime, yet they pay the ultimate price. The ruling elite, apparently disconnected from these realities, offers nothing beyond hollow condemnations.
What is even more disturbing than the lack of the writ of the government is the silence of Balochistan’s civil society. While many voices are quick to highlight injustices against the Baloch, Pashtun or Hazara, and rightly so, there is no outcry against the ethnic cleansing of Punjabis. Most of these Punjabis belong to the same province, face all the hardships equally as the other communities, yet they find no sympathizers for them when they get attacked. No protests against their killings, no road blocks, no strikes and no social media outcry.
The attacks of 36-27 August 2024, when the militants launched coordinated assaults on multiple towns and highways, should have been a wake-up call. But instead of strengthening security, the situation has continued to deteriorate. Passengers are dragged from buses and executed. Even the military convoys are tracked and ambushed with impunity and the pattern is chillingly repetitive.
The Pakistan Security Report 2024 documented 202 terrorist attacks in Balochistan alone. Meanwhile, one of the militant groups, in its annual report, boasted 302 attacks in 2024, including 10 grand operations and six suicide attacks.
In just the first two months of 2025, multiple terrorist attacks have already claimed heavy casualties. According to the Provincial Home Department, 3,374 people have been killed in terrorist attacks in Balochistan over the past 15 years.
Yet, federal Interior Minister Mohsin Naqvi recently claimed that the Balochistan situation could be controlled by a single SHO.
With terror escalating unchecked, one can only ask: Where is that mythical SHO?
Balochistan doesn’t need empty rhetoric: it needs action. Without serious introspection and decisive intervention, the province edges closer to a point of no return where silence means nothing but complicity.
