In July, hundreds of thousands of people set out for a national gathering in Gwadar, a picturesque port city on the Arabian sea in Balochistan — Pakistan’s largest, but least populated, province. Making their way through an expanse of mountainous desert were the members of a severely oppressed community, the Baloch, whose population extends into neighboring Iran and Afghanistan.
At this first-of-its-kind national gathering, called Baloch Raji Munchi, people were planning to press their demand for an end to enforced disappearances, wrongful arrests and extrajudicial killings — all of which have been rampant across the province since its annexation in 1948.
While protesters were prepared to brave the elements, the heat and uneven roads on their way to Gwadar, they were not as prepared for the widespread violent crackdown they encountered two days before the start of the gathering on July 28.
“People began mobilizing in early July, so there were already thousands and thousands of people who managed to reach Gwadar,” said Lala Wahab, deputy organizer of the Baloch Yakjehti Committee, or BYC — a movement against the human rights abuses faced by Baloch people. “[Meanwhile] massive caravans of people were heading towards Gwadar from other parts of Pakistan, and from Iran and Afghanistan, to join the movement.”
According to the BYC, the government, military, paramilitary and security forces engaged in blocking roads and sabotaging protesters’ vehicles. “When we started protesting and sloganeering, they started firing at us,” Wahab said. “Many of us were injured, including many of our sisters.”
The BYC claimed that — in the two days of crackdown that preceded the national gathering — at least 80 people were injured and three people were killed across multiple locations. As a result, what was intended to be a single-day national gathering turned into a more than two-week-long demonstration for freedom from persecution by Baloch people.
According to Wahab, more than two million people were gathered across various protest sites in and around Gwadar, making it the largest protest movement in Balochistan’s history.
“If they hadn’t made it so difficult for people to reach Gwadar, the gathering would have happened just on that day, and it would be over,” said BYC member Fozia Baloch Shashani. “But because they pushed back, that gave birth to a much larger movement all across Balochistan.”
Mobilizing without internet
One of the first steps the Pakistani establishment took in quelling the uprising was cutting off the internet in major Baloch cities and towns. Phone networks were also shut down in parts of Balochistan, including Gwadar. This meant that the BYC had to resort to more traditional ways of mobilizing.
“We went door-to-door, talking to people and hearing their grievances and frustrations,” Wahab said. “It actually wasn’t that difficult [to convince people to join the protest]. People have reached a breaking point. They want a change, so they wanted to support our movement.”
According to Wahab, BYC members also carried out fundraising activities ahead of the national gathering to arrange tents, food, water, speaker systems and other amenities in support of the protest. However, they were curtailed from doing so in many places by the establishment.
“Luckily, wherever we went, people from that neighborhood would come out to give us food and water — and support the movement even though the state would use tactics like asking all hotels in the area to close so that we could not stop there for rest,” Wahab said.
On July 17, Saira Baloch and two other BYC female volunteers were holding awareness and planning meetings in the riverfront district of Khuzdar, when some men in plain clothes — and then later uniformed paramilitary forces — began following and filming them. Saira Baloch said she was used to this experience, as the area had many paramilitary camps. However, on that day, “they intended to take us into custody and forcibly disappear us.”
“First they took our phone and surrounded us,” she said. “Then they hit people, children, pushed them back so no one could come towards us. This went on for a few hours, after which point they tried to take us away.” However, it was early evening, and the neighborhood was bustling with crowds from a nearby market.
“A lot of women came out and said ‘First you took our men and now you’re taking our women too?’” Saira Baloch explained. “Something horrific could have taken place, but when the group of women surrounded us and said they would not let [the forces] take us away, we were let go. If the people had not been there that day, we might have also been among the thousands who have been disappeared.”
Despite the constant repression BYC and its supporters faced along the way, they knew they had managed to galvanize the Baloch masses to fight for their rights. But the real challenge of making the journey to Gwadar amid police and military blockades was still to come.
The road to Gwadar
Gwadar is home to Pakistan’s most crucial deep-sea port, the fulcrum of the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor.
“We chose to hold the national gathering there because even if they don’t care about Baloch people, the government can’t turn its back to Gwadar,” Wahab said.
A curfew was imposed ahead of the gathering on July 28, and no one was allowed to enter or leave the city. Meanwhile, as caravans of protesters advanced from Quetta, Karachi and other parts of Balochistan, they faced brutal crackdowns by military and paramilitary forces.
In the mountainous Tatalar, located 37 miles from Gwadar, small caravans of protesters were stopped at a large army checkpoint. Containers meant to block their passage had been placed on the roads before their arrival.
“Anyone who tried to go ahead was being fired upon,” Saira Baloch said. “We saw that our lives don’t have any value. It doesn’t matter if you are a man, woman or child.”
The curfews and blockades in different parts of Balochistan also meant that goods could not reach markets, which resulted in a medicine shortage in the region. In some parts, where protesters were blocked from moving forward, water tankers were also unable to get through.
Similar violent crackdowns took place in Matsung, Turbat and Noshki — Baloch towns and cities located a few hours from Gwadar. In Yusuf Ghot, less than an hour from Karachi, Wahab’s caravan faced a similar crackdown, forcing them to retreat. After three days of grueling travel, he went to the press club to tell the media about what he had faced — but he was immediately met with a heavy security presence.
“They started arresting people, but somehow I evaded them and entered the press club,” he said.
Some of Wahab’s compatriots from the movement were waiting for him there, but they said it was not safe. “They had to smuggle me out of there. I hid in the trunk of the car, and they drove me out.”
Fozia Baloch Shashani was not as lucky. “The moment we got [to the press club] they picked us up,” she said. “They didn’t tell us anything, I kept asking, ‘What did we do? Why are you taking us?’ But even they didn’t know why we had been brought there — only that orders had come from above, saying that any Baloch going to or near the press club should be picked up.”
Shashani and six other women were taken to a women’s police station, while their male compatriots were taken to a different one. After several hours, they were released, and a protest took place in Karachi, ultimately sparking a wave of demonstrations across Balochistan over the following weeks — despite being met with tear gas, water canons, police batons and curfews.
Just before midnight, Shashani was detained for a second time. “They arrested around 50 of us, including me,” she said. “We were held there until about 4:30 a.m. … When we reached home that morning we found out that two [police complaints] had been registered against us.”
While some protesters have since been freed, dozens of those arrested at various protest sites have outstanding police complaints requiring them to appear for court hearings.
Negotiations
Across the rivers and mountains of Balochistan, from July 28 to Aug. 16, gatherings with hundreds of thousands of women, children and men in attendance took place. People showed up with posters, banners and flashlights after dark to listen to their leaders — Mahrang Baloch, Sammi Deen Baloch, Lala Wahab and others — echo the struggles they have all been silently fighting for decades.
“They want to finish Baloch people everywhere, but this land is ours and no army — no force — can destroy us when we are united,” Mahrang said at a night-time gathering in Gresha, Balochistan on Aug. 10.
Finally, after two weeks of Baloch people showing solidarity in a common cause, the Balochistan government was forced to engage in negotiations with the BYC leaders. A peace accord was signed in which the Balochistan government agreed it would register a police complaint against the Frontier Corps, the paramilitary force accused of opening fire on protesters at various locations.
The accord guaranteed that there would be no further use of force or violence by the state or military against the Baloch people. It also stated that participants of the Baloch national gathering who were forcibly disappeared should be returned home and have any outstanding police complaints quashed. What’s more, anyone whose home or property was damaged during the crackdown is entitled to compensation. The accord even said the government should admit that they attempted to crush this public peaceful program with violence and passed the order for the use of force.
According to the BYC, however, nearly all of these demands currently remain unfulfilled. Attempts to reach the government of Balochistan and the Frontier Corps regarding these allegations were not returned.
“This is the third such accord that’s been signed in the history of Balochistan,” Wahab said. “The government always makes promises, but fails to keep them. We aren’t afraid to return to the streets if our demands aren’t met.”
A new platform that empowers women
The BYC was formed in May 2020 to provide a platform for Baloch voices to be united in demanding freedom from persecution, as well as to amplify the voices of the victims of human rights abuses and enforced disappearances.
“People did not have a platform before BYC,” Saira Baloch said. “Local parties were also [aligned] with the Pakistan government so they didn’t raise their voice for Baloch people in the way that they should have. But now there is BYC, which is raising their voice for everyone, whether it’s families of victims of enforced disappearances or any other kind of crime that takes place in Balochistan. So people have faith in the BYC, which is why they answered their call for protest in numbers that have never been seen before.”
Shashani is an example of someone touched by the movement. She joined after her brother was taken from their home in August 2023, and she sought help from the BYC in bringing him back. Earlier this year, she helped organize a long march from Turbat to Islamabad, marking the first time she was involved as more than a victim’s family member.
Although the movement in Balochistan has always had female leaders, women emerging as the primary face of the movement is a relatively recent phenomenon, born more from necessity than anything else.
“They would beat up our brothers and disappear them so we would keep losing men,” Saira Baloch said. “But with women, they cannot act in the same manner.”
Shashani agreed with this sentiment, adding, “They took someone’s brother, someone’s husband, someone’s father. If they hadn’t committed these crimes, perpetrated this oppression, perhaps I too would not have come forward today. But I’m here because of the establishment, because I am frustrated with their policies.”
According to Shasani, attitudes have also changed in Balochistan’s neighborhoods. They can now wholeheartedly accept female leaders as they would men. They don’t follow them because of their gender but because of their actions for the people.
“If they had not given Dr. Mahrang her father’s body, she would perhaps not be here,” she said. “If they hadn’t taken Sammi Deen’s father, she would not be here. The abuses they have committed against our loved ones have brought us here today.”
Battle won but the war continues
The BYC believes that the Baloch national gathering was a success in bringing people together from all corners of the province, despite the brutal repression they faced. However, the fight is far from over. Internet and mobile phone networks remain blocked in many parts of Balochistan, resulting in further demonstrations in Karachi.
“Political ground can be gained only when there is unity across the community,” said Mahrang at a recent seminar at Pakistan’s Human Rights Commission. “The absolute rule with which this government is running cannot work, and this is not just about the Baloch people but all the oppressed people across the country.”
On Aug. 23, the U.N. Committee on the Elimination of Racial Discrimination published its findings on Pakistan, encouraging it to ratify the International Convention for the Protection of All Persons from Enforced Disappearances. In a post on X, Mahrang described this move as “a crucial step towards justice,” adding that, “We, the people of Balochistan, have waited too long for the world to see our plight. We are looking forward to more adequate pressure to meet the magnitude of the issue.”
Enforced disappearances have long been one of the worst human rights violations Baloch people have endured. In July 2024, alone, the Human Rights Council of Balochistan received 76 reports of enforced disappearances.
“Multiple mutilated bodies of enforced disappearance victims have been recovered from various areas of Balochistan,” Mahrang Baloch said via X on Aug. 29. “This is deeply alarming. The state forcibly disappears individuals, holds them for months or years, then kills them and discards their mutilated bodies.” In a statement on X the following day, the BYC called on human rights organizations to intervene to “prevent further atrocities” and “address the severe human rights crisis unfolding in Balochistan.”
For someone like Saira Baloch, the pain of missing a loved one never goes away. She was 14 when her brothers were taken from her home six years ago, and she continues to ask the military for their whereabouts any chance she gets — even though they often use such moments as an opportunity to intimidate her, as they did during her interface with them in July.
“They said disgusting things about my brothers and that they have given them the punishment they deserve,” she explained. “But how can they punish my brothers without any trial?”
It’s questions like that, according to Saira Baloch, that make people tired of remaining silent. “When my brother was taken, they told me to keep quiet, because if I caused a stir it could harm his case. But as I grew up, I realized there is no point.” In the face of such human rights abuses, she came to think of silence as a form of complicity — and that her family was already experiencing the worst.
When she was young, she didn’t know what enforced disappearances were — only that she was born in a place where men could be taken away and all you would hear for days after is women crying and wailing for their lost loved ones. Today, she knows that her only hope of seeing her brothers again, who once took care of her, is fighting for their return.
“I couldn’t complete my education. I had received an A on the day they took my brother away. He always loved seeing my report card — he was the one making sure we got educated. But now the only thing I strive for is bringing him back.”
