There must be sustained political and diplomatic efforts to expose the reality of Pakistan Occupied Balochistan.
In the long and unfinished history of betrayals in South Asia, few episodes are as deliberately buried and as morally outrageous as the annexation of Balochistan by Pakistan. The world calls it Balochistan, but what we must learn to say frankly is Pakistan-Occupied Balochistan. A land occupied by deceit. Irony is how its people are colonised not by outsiders but by those who claim to be their own. A sad tragedy of trust turned into trauma by the Pakistani leadership.
In March 1948, the so-called accession of the Khanate of Kalat was not some natural unfolding of national integration. It was an act of coercion, carried out under the shadow of threats, backroom deals, and brute military force. This was a betrayal of the highest order, even by the standards of post-colonial cynicism. And yet, while history books in Pakistan glorify this as a “merger”, and Western capitals remain conveniently complacent, the Baloch people know what really happened. They have not and could not forget, and neither should we.
One should also remember that Kalat was an independent princely state under British suzerainty. When the British left, Kalat declared its independence on 11 August 1947, just three days before Pakistan was created. It signed a standstill agreement with Pakistan, much like Hyderabad and other princely states did with India. But Mohammad Ali Jinnah—yes, the same man who spoke of constitutionalism and legalism—soon decided that Balochistan’s independence was unacceptable. Within months, Kalat was swallowed into Pakistan, with the Khan forced to sign an “instrument of accession” under duress. Could this be called integration? Or shouldn’t we just call it what it is—an occupation that continues till today?
Sadly, what did the Indian government choose to do at the time? Silence and ignorance. Much like we did when we watched the Chinese march into Tibet or when we let Gwadar go to Pakistan despite Oman offering it to us. For all its rhetoric of non-alignment and moral superiority, the Nehruvian state lacked basic geopolitical instinct. We blinked at history’s crucial moments, and others took what should have been ours, or at least not theirs. Pakistan got Gwadar. China got Tibet. Meanwhile, Nehru and his supporters rejoiced in the moral superiority of non-alignment.
Balochistan never belonged to Pakistan in the first place, and today, it faces this alienation and oppression even more. Like a proper colonial entity, Pakistan is extracting resources from Balochistan, given its pressed and failing Pakistani economy. As a result, Balochistan lies ravaged by neglect, by military occupation, by a system that sees its people as irritants and its resources as loot. In other words, what the Pakistani state has done in Balochistan over the past seven decades is nothing short of colonial plunder. Landgrabs, demographic engineering, extraction without compensation, enforced disappearances, mass graves, assassinations of intellectuals and political activists, it is a brutal catalogue that would shame any civilised state. Except, of course, Pakistan has never behaved like one exceptionally.
Yet, despite all of this, the Baloch people stand proud to resist. They resist quietly, stubbornly, and courageously. Their movement is not one of blind rebellion but of historical memory and cultural pride, illustrating the struggle of a people who refuse to be erased.
The international community that could not wait a second to speak when something happens in Kashmir, how does it respond to Balochistan? An absolute silence. The same world that weeps for Ukraine, cries for Gaza, and rails against tyranny in Myanmar refuse to even acknowledge that an entire people in Balochistan are living under de facto martial law. Why? Because Pakistan has mastered the art of playing the nuclear bluff. It hides behind the shield of Islam, it pleads vulnerability, and it invokes the threat of instability every time someone questions its actions. But we must not be fooled anymore.
Today, Pakistan is no longer a sovereign actor. It is a vassal state serving three masters. America still holds sway over its military elite, China is milking it through CPEC and debt-trap diplomacy, and Turkey plays the role of ideological guardian, exporting a brand of pan-Islamism that thrives on denial and deflection. In this grand chessboard, Balochistan is the sacrificial pawn that is always spoken for, never spoken to.
From an Indian point of view, one must ask what we owe to Balochistan. What responsibility do we bear? Let’s make one thing clear: India is not the cause of Balochistan’s tragedy, but India has been a bystander for too long. For decades, we maintained a posture of strategic ambiguity, anticipating that silence would shield us from international criticism. Much like other things, such an era is over.
The New Modi Doctrine must follow similar moral clarity and strategic assertiveness as it did in Balakot and Sindoor. When restraint becomes retaliation, when ambiguity gives way to clarity, it is not just about strikes and speeches. It must also be about telling the truth, even when inconvenient. In 2016, Prime Minister Modi made the first bold move by mentioning Balochistan from the ramparts of the Red Fort. It shocked Islamabad. But rest assured, it was more than a soundbite; instead, it was a signal that India would no longer play by rules written in fear. In the years since, India has shown that it can stand up to Pakistan’s nuclear bluff, that it will not be blackmailed by terror, and that it sees through the façade of religious exclusivism that props up the Pakistani state.
That assertiveness found its most recent and surgical expression in Operation Sindoor. While the specifics remain classified, its message was loud and clear: India will no longer be a mute spectator to terror emanating from across the border or beyond. Though aimed at dismantling terror infrastructure in Pakistan-occupied territories, it had another symbolic layer that India now draws no artificial line between PoK and Balochistan when it comes to threats or justice. Finally, strategic reticence has given way to calibrated action.
What should follow now must be sustained political and diplomatic efforts to expose the reality of Pakistan-Occupied Balochistan. We must stop compartmentalising our outrage. If we speak of PoK, we must also speak of Balochistan. If we raise the issue of human rights in Bangladesh, we must raise them for the Baloch. If we believe in justice, it cannot be selective. India must also cultivate international partnerships that amplify the Baloch voice in global forums. Whether through civil society platforms, diaspora engagement, or digital diplomacy, we must ensure that the Baloch struggle is not reduced to hashtags and occasional tweets.
It is a real fight of people against a military terrorist state that is willing to erase its very existence politically and socially. Pakistan-Occupied Balochistan is a reality that cannot be ignored and cast aside. Nehruvians praised Nehru’s foreign policy for its moral and non realistic claims in foreign policy, while ignoring all the strategic offers he rejected at ease. But let me ask, even in moral claims, why were they silent about the struggle of the Baloch people? Why was there a blind spot concerning them? Moving ahead, we must call out the Pakistani occupation, and most importantly, the silence on the Baloch must end.
* Prof Santishree Dhulipudi Pandit is the Vice Chancellor of JNU.