By: Shaheer Sialvi
Yesterday, once again, the soil of Mastung witnessed a tragedy—a brazen attack not on soldiers or installations, but on the hopes of ordinary, hard-working Baloch families. Poor men who worked tirelessly to collect savings in banks—perhaps to marry off a daughter, support a son’s education, or build a modest home—saw their dreams reduced to ash. “Fitna-e-Hindustan” looted three banks in broad daylight, torched them, and made off with the records. Why? Because those records held the names of Baloch citizens who serve Pakistan, be it in the military, the FC, the civil service, or even the local administration. For these terrorists, being loyal to Pakistan is a crime worthy of death.
But the real question is this: What kind of militant fears the uniform so much that he can only attack schoolchildren? What sort of “freedom fighter” burns schools, kills little girls in their uniforms, and bombs clinics instead of facing soldiers on the battlefield? This isn’t just terrorism; this is cowardice of the lowest kind. These aren’t warriors. These are spineless men attacking the weak because they know they can’t stand up to the strong.
I remember Subedar Saleem, a soldier whose two daughters were martyred in a senseless attack. He carried their coffins himself, and his son was still on a ventilator. Yet he stood tall and said to the attackers: “Come fight me if you’re brave. I wear the uniform. Why kill my children?” That man is a hero. Those who attacked him are not freedom fighters; they are cowards.
And then we hear these attackers call themselves “Baloch.” No. You are not Baloch. A Baloch is a man of honour and resistance, like Mir Chakar Khan Rind, who stood up to the British crown. A Baloch defends his soil and his people. He doesn’t kill children, burn schools, or loot the wealth of his own neighbours.
You tarnish the names of our great ancestors. You manipulate the identity of the Baloch for personal gain. You live in London, Switzerland, or Mumbai, sipping wine and counting your dollars while pushing poor Baloch youth into the fire of violence. You run militant networks from your villas while claiming to be victims of the state. You are merchants of blood.
And let’s not forget those who claim their relatives are missing while conveniently omitting that these “missing persons” were aiding armed insurgents. You organize seminars, cry on stage about a father who disappeared, but you never tell the full story. You forget to mention that your father was treating terrorists, or that he may have been killed by the very groups he supported.
You claim to be victims, but 90% of the journalists and activists who speak up for you are from Punjab—the same Punjab you demonize. You kill Punjabi labourers in coal mines, you plant landmines on their roads, and then seek sympathy in Islamabad. The same Sariki-speaking people whose sons you bury in Duki’s mines are the ones calling for justice for your families.
You say you want rights, but in every government—whether it’s Nawaz Sharif’s, Imran Khan’s, or Shahbaz Sharif’s—your feudal lords sit in parliament. They hold ministries. They sign contracts for coal and minerals. And yet, they give nothing back—not even to their own districts. Five years as chief minister, and your own district remains underdeveloped. You recruit entire families into the Levies just to secure votes and power. This is not leadership. This is blackmail.
And why do you burn schools? Why attack universities and medical colleges? Because you fear an educated Baloch child. You know that once educated, he will not serve as a servant to your estates. He will not hold your horses or bathe your dogs. He will become a commissioner, a colonel, a policymaker—and that threatens your feudal grip.
But let me tell you this: nations are not built on propaganda. They are built on ideas and sacrifice. Pakistan was founded on an ideology, and no amount of funded narratives or foreign conspiracies can undo that. Those who tried have already perished, and their descendants live with the shame.
You can run your propaganda from exile. You can collect your blood money from foreign sponsors. But remember: selling your homeland may earn you applause in foreign capitals, but here, among your people, it earns you only contempt.
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This is not the voice of the state. This is the voice of a son of the soil who sees through the lies, the manipulation, and the betrayal. I say this today as a Pakistani, as a Muslim, and as a man who will always stand with the truth.
