Redressing Balochistan’s grievances
By Shamshad Ahmad Khan
“I have spilt blood? I had to; I shall perhaps shed more, but without anger, and quite simply, because blood-letting is a component of (my) political medicine...I am not a man like other men and the laws of morality or custom cannot be applied to me.” —Napoleon Bonaparte
WILL there be ever an end to tragedies in our country? Shall we ever have a civilized way of dealing with our problems? Why don’t we learn lessons from our traumatic past? Did Pakistan come into being to perennially remain afflicted with a culture of blood and bullet? Are we doomed for ever to our Spartan fate? Don’t the people of Pakistan have any urge to change their destiny?
There could not have been a gloomier scenario for any state in today’s world. Pakistan has been “dismembered” yet again, if not physically, at least emotionally. The murder of Nawab Mohammad Akbar Khan Bugti by Pakistan’s security forces has torn the nation apart. Sardar Akbar Bugti was not a tribal chieftain alone, he was a political leader, a former governor and chief minister of Pakistan’s largest province, a former federal minister, and, above all, the grand old man of Baloch nationalism and a senior citizen of Pakistan.
Bugti’s killing has hit us all very badly. Pakistan is bleeding today. Another tragedy has been enacted on its soil and soul. The nation cannot even mourn its grief and loss. It stands aghast, and agonises in its total helplessness and hopelessness. It fails to understand why the guardians of our independence and territorial integrity are killing the citizens of Pakistan and fighting a war against their own people.
The real test of a leadership always lies in how it handles domestic unrest and violence rooted in despair and disillusionment among its own people, no matter how small their number or who they are. The state is the guardian, not an enemy of its people. The armed forces of a country have no justification, professionally or morally, to kill their own people.
We still remember when ordered to use force against rioters in an anti-government protest in Lahore in 1977, there were senior army officers who refused to do so. Thirty years later, not one “conscience” among our security forces pricked. Indeed, the “culture of violence” has affected all segments and every level of our society including the guardians and the subjects.
We no longer adhere to civilized ways of handling our difficulties and problems. Within ourselves as a nation, in fact, we are all gripped by despair and disillusionment, and are driven in our “demented” behaviour, visible daily on our streets and public places, by fear and frustration, and a combination of what the renowned Muslim thinker, Al-Ghazali had described as four “human flaws”: namely the feral (predatory), the beastly (animal), the diabolic (satanic), and the divine (lordly).
In the ultimate analysis, our chaotic life style today is the product of a broader mix of problems caused by “bad government, opportunistic, illiterate and corrupt politicians, and “militant military leaders” who exploit the grievances of their people for their own survival. Niccolo Machiavelli (1469-1527), the architect of “Pakistan’s governance system” must be jumping in his grave, if there is one anywhere, with elation and delight. Our military rulers have followed his infamous “doctrine of necessity” in letter and spirit.
To gain political power, according to Machiavelli, “it is necessary either to be the child of fortune and be born into power, or to acquire power through deceit and conquest.” Machiavelli was of the view that in “destroying enemies within the state, the ruler must get rid of them decisively without mercy, lest some individual suffering from minor injuries returns to seek revenge.”
Machiavelli’s philosophy of government is premised on the assumption that in the absence of virtuous citizens, there are only “corrupt masses,” and since the end justifies the means, they can be controlled only by a “prince” through his “deceitful and vicious behaviour.” The “prince” has to be “strong and ruthless enough” to rule his subjects. He must have a “hypocritical and vacillating” personality wearing the face of “mercy, faith, integrity, humanity, and religion” to create a public image, but always acting contrary to those very ideals.
This recipe is familiar to our country. Our post-independence history is replete with Machiavellian antics and adventures. In fact, we allowed Machiavelli’s “doctrine of necessity” to circumscribe the supremacy of our Constitution, and opted for systemic aberrations with no parallel in political philosophy or contemporary history.
The sole beneficiary of this system in our country has been the “wilful ruler” who was either “the child of fortune” or was “born into power” or who “acquired power through deceit and force.” We have also been steadfast in following, since our independence, the Machiavellian concept of “elimination” of political opponents through force and violence, and sans mercy.
The list of Pakistan’s eliminated political victims is long and perhaps open-ended. Until now, it includes prime ministers, elected leaders, exiled political rivals, fathers or sons of political leaders, tribal chiefs and maliks and even patriotic citizens.
Questions nevertheless abound about the future of Pakistan. The tragedy enacted in the context of Bugti saga is not something new for our country. We have experienced similar crises earlier also in Balochistan, and woefully, a tragedy of even greater magnitude elsewhere.
In East Pakistan, the problem started with a deep-rooted sense of deprivation and became a politico-constitutional problem with a demand for larger autonomy, leading eventually to the break-up of the country. In 1971, Pakistan lost not only half the country but also the “majority of its Muslim population with the breakaway of its eastern wing in what became the only successful secessionist movement of contemporary history in a newly independent state.”
The people of Pakistan have been following the Balochistan crisis with anxiety and concern and expected the government to show a sense of maturity and circumspection in dealing with the issues involved. In addressing the question of the basic rights of the people of Balochistan, it was always clear that ad hoc approaches and military operations will not do.
The age of colonialism under military occupations is long gone. We thought Kashmir was the only remaining vestige but now we have provided an opportunity to the regional and global stakeholders to exploit the situation in Balochistan to make it a new chapter of this phenomenon. India might start paying us back in the same coins. Didn’t we already have too many problems at hand?
In the post-9/11 scenario, terrorism-related problems afflicting our country have placed us on the global radar screen, giving Pakistan the unenviable distinction of being one of the epochal “frontlines of the war on terror.” The world watches us with anxiety and concern as we seek to correct our image. Our crucial role in this campaign complicates our tasks, both at home and at regional and global levels.
Our problems are further complicated by the complex regional configuration with Americans sitting in Afghanistan, new Indo-US nexus, India’s strategic ascendancy in the region and its unprecedented influence in Afghanistan with serious nuisance potential against Pakistan. Our borders on all sides are no longer peaceful. Domestically, sectarian violence has made Pakistan the worst killing ground of Muslims at the hands of their Muslim “brethren.”
Pakistan is going through one of the most serious crises of its independent statehood. It is being weakened methodically through its ubiquitous engagement on multiple external as well as domestic fronts. Use of military power within a state and against its own people has never been an acceptable norm. Pakistan is the only Muslim country with an on-going military operation against its own people.
Given today’s volatile regional and global environment with Pakistan finding itself in the eye of the storm, one could understand the government’s anxiety to enforce the writ of its constitutional authority in all parts of the country. But instead of resorting to an indiscriminate military action, it should have opted for a political approach through parliamentary dialogue and debate.
Balochistan has long had grievances of injustice which even the governments in Islamabad have acknowledged and promised to address. No one denies that despite its abundance of natural resources, Balochistan remains the most backward province of the country. There has been a strong underlying resentment in this as well as other provinces against what is seen as continued “Punjabi dominance” and inequitable distribution of power and resources.
In East Pakistan also, the problems started with similar deep-rooted sense of deprivation and a feeling of political and economic alienation which over time became a politico-constitutional crisis involving a demand for greater autonomy, and leading eventually to the break-up of the country.
For a country, skip to next pardomestically as unstable and unpredictable as ours, there can be not many choices. In todays world, our options are limited. Our domestic failures have seriously constricted our foreign policy options. In the ultimate analysis, our problems are not external.
Our problems are domestic which need to be addressed politically and by constitutional means. Given our painful experiences, we cannot afford any more tragedies and national debacles. The parliament should have been allowed to play its role and to work out a “consensus package” of political, economic and constitutional measures for redressing the legitimate grievances of the people of Balochistan. Is it too late to do it now?
The writer is a former foreign secretary.


