Politics in Balochistan


There isn’t any, unfortunately


The most eery, scary aspect of the Baloch crisis is the surprisingly low level of hatred of the disaffected Baloch towards the political government. There almost isn’t any.

Sure, there isn’t any love lost either, for the federal government or the Raisani-led provincial government. But overall, the attitude could be summed up as one of indifference, bordering on distaste.

In one talk show after the other, Baloch leaders wax acerbic against the military establishment, the agencies, the works etc. But whenever a cautious reporter, or an anchor receiving instructions in his or her earphone, asks about reservations against the political government, the question is brushed aside. They are not empowered; they don’t have the mandate to deal with the situation. The stock reply of leaders young and old.

In nation-states, a qualified fury has value as a cathartic safety valve. Much passion is fizzled out and used up. And, since government politicians have to be dealt with politically, there is much debate and argumentation. This is because the disaffected demographic believes it can get its point across. And if it doesn’t, they’ll be able to elect another politician who is on the same page. In Balochistan, it doesn’t feel the need to engage the political government because it is not empowered enough to be bothered with. It is the deep state that calls the shots.

As opposed to the politicians, the military, is an unactionable variable. Officers from within don’t need to go to the polls, or feel the need to reach out to people, or even hear what the word on the street is. Regardless of how much PR they manage to pull across, it is an inherently insular organisation. Its mantras follow unquestioned, belonging to a worldview that doesn’t need external scrutiny. In the context of this state of affairs, the PM’s call for the All Parties’ Conference won’t find many takers in Balochistan. Square peg, round hole.