Abstract
Baloch women and children are more likely to face a water cannon than receive answers when they speak up for missing men in Pakistan, writes
Members of the Baloch Students Council Punjab protest against the enforced disappearance of students
CREDIT: Pakistan Press International (PPI) / Alamy
Siraj allegedly had not just disappeared but was the victim of an “enforced disappearance” - a term used to describe the state authorities suddenly taking someone into custody and effectively making them disappear.
Siraj is not the only one to have faced this.
Baloch communities have been living in fear of enforced disappearances for generations, with little respite or support from outside parties.
Voice for Missing Baloch Persons, an organisation representing the families of people who have gone missing in Balochistan - a province of Pakistan - say the number of people who have been “disappeared” since 2013 stands at 8,000, and community activists say that hundreds, if not thousands, were victims before then.
Siraj’s disappearance comes on the heels of the Baloch Long March, a historic women-led march and sit-in, where around 400 Baloch protesters - half of them women and children - marched from Turbat to Islamabad last winter following the killing of 24-year-old Balaach Mola Baksh. But instead of being met with answers, the protesters - some of whom were as old as 80 - were met with water cannons, batons and arrests when they got to Islamabad.
Baksh’s family says that he was picked up from his home while he was sleeping and arrested under alleged terror charges. A day before his intended bail plea hearing on 24 November, Baksh was killed in an encounter in custody after the Counter-Terrorism Department claimed he had confessed to being involved in terrorist activities.
His family, who were part of the march, are staunchly claiming otherwise, saying he had nothing to do with any of these activities and was falsely accused.
It was Baksh’s death that incited the march, but the movement to bring back loved ones who have been forcibly disappeared is far older. It is a struggle that has shaped the lives of generations of Baloch men who live in fear every day, and women and children who spend their lives worrying not only about their loved ones but also about supporting themselves and having to carry on, not knowing if their family members are dead or alive.
“This is not the first time that Baloch women have come to the forefront to struggle for the safe release of their loved ones,” said Sammi Deen Baloch, a human rights activist and one of the leading faces in the movement against enforced disappearances.
“Since 2001, the Baloch mothers have been on the roads and demanding justice.”
Each time, the women are pushed back - both physically, as in the case of the Long March, and in the media, through a nationwide silencing of Baloch issues. Just days after Index spoke to Sammi Deen Baloch, reports emerged that she had been arrested.
“The state of Pakistan has left us with no options except protesting and struggling for the safe release of our loved ones,” she said. “This Long March has made the Baloch women a symbol of resistance and demonstrated to the world that Baloch women are courageous, are resolute and can fight for the lives of their men.”
Her father, Deen Muhammad Baloch, has been missing since 2009 and his daughter has no idea if he is even still alive.
The Long March has been covered extensively on social media and internationally, highlighting the struggles and resilience of leaders such as doctor Mahrang Baloch.
It is a resilience she has developed through marching since she was 10 years old, after her father was forcibly disappeared in 2006. His body was found years later.
“The media enforces a state narrative that no one is missing, and if they are it is because they are terrorists, so the missing person’s family’s struggle never advances,” she said.
Her scepticism despite the enormous effort she puts into fighting for this issue every day is a reminder of the losses she’s had to bear throughout this journey.
“Even peaceful movements are ignored, and some journalists even try to paint these peaceful movements as violent,” she added.
For many Baloch women and girls, the loss of their fathers, husbands, brothers and sons changes their lives beyond recognition.
“Balochistan is not a very modern place, and so it’s not common that a woman can easily lead a movement,” lawyer Sadia Baloch told Index. “It is a result of that repression that has forced women to come out and lead, because they have no option and nothing to lose so they are taking on the baton charges and violence.”
She explained that she initially got involved with student rights campaigns, adding: “But then you can’t stop at that when you see every second day a student just goes ‘missing’. They ‘disappear’ and no one knows what they’ve done. There are no courts for [them].”
Mahrang and Sadia both note that the fear of not knowing who will be picked up next is one that haunts men, women and children alike.
“There is no one living a normal life. There is insecurity amidst the whole population,” said Mahrang. “It’s such an intensified issue, there are protests on Eid as well - and even those not affected are always insecure and their mental health declines.”
Recent disappearances such as Siraj’s have quickly taught Baloch families that their sons and brothers are not safe even in other parts of the country. Yet those losses and efforts such as the Long March are not highlighted in the media as much as acts of militancy in the province, painting a skewed picture of what Baloch people actually want.
“Peaceful protests have never been given importance in the country of Pakistan and that is the reason why the concept of violence is increasing day by day instead of peaceful struggle,” said Sammi, adding: “I have always believed in peaceful struggle and I have been peacefully protesting against forced disappearances for the past 15 years.”
For young children who have visited jails more times than they have been to school, violence has played a key role in shaping their lives. They are innocent citizens caught up between two sides, and because they’re an easy target, they become the victims.
Sadia explained that individuals can feel as though they’re not making an impact. But she said they can make a difference.
“If there’s a child whose father is missing, sponsor their education as there’s usually one [bread winner] so their leaving creates a financial crisis for many families.”
It is individual efforts such as these that show there is some hope that the new generation of Baloch youth might be able to escape the violence they see every day, and through allyship be able to demand change.
Lynchings after allegations of blasphemy have become commonplace in Pakistan, writes
“This is a stain our town will carry forever,” said 52-year-old Ehsanuddin (who goes by one name), a local baker who talked to Index over the phone from Madyan, where it happened.
Ehsanuddin saw the event from his house, “atop the bazaar”.
He said he first heard about Salman being in police custody shortly after sunset prayers at the main mosque.
“The crowd kept swelling and went straight towards the police station, where they broke down the gate and torched some vans and started vandalising the station,” he said. “It was dark, but because of the fire, I could see everything. The incensed crowd chanting ‘Allahu-Akbar, Allahu-Akbar [God is great],’ went around in search of the man. The policemen who tried to ward them off were beaten by the angry mob.
“The man was found and was dragged - all the while [they were] hitting him - up to the bazaar. I am not sure if he had died of his injuries or was still alive when they burnt the lifeless body.”
Much of this was corroborated by a senior investigating officer, who requested that his name be withheld.
“Some 2,5000 people have been officially charged for this event and 42 arrested so far,” he said.
Under the law, defiling or insulting the prophet of Islam, his companions or family members, or desecrating the Quran is an offence for which the penalty is death or life imprisonment.
“At least 100 persons have been killed extra-judicially over blasphemy allegations since 1994,” said Peter Jacob, executive director of the Pakistan-based research and policy advocacy organisation Centre for Social Justice, which has been keeping a close watch on the numbers.
On 25 May, Nazir Gill Masih, an elderly Christian shoemaker, was attacked by a mob in Sargodha, a city in Punjab province, after a local cleric accused him of blasphemy.
His factory and home were set ablaze, and he died in hospital on 3 June. Islamist extremist political party Tehreek-e-Labbaik Pakistan (TLP) protested the arrest of those accused of killing him.
Last August, thousands of people set churches and Christians’ homes on fire in Jaranwala, also in Punjab, because of allegations of desecration of the Quran.
Al Jazeera found the party flag of the TLP lying near the altar of one of the 22 destroyed churches, but the party has denied any involvement.
In 2021, a Sri Lankan factory manager was killed by a mob in Sialkot after untrue rumours spread of a blasphemous action.
Maulana Muhammad Tayyab Qureshi, the chief khateeb (prayer leader) of the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province and a member of the National Commission for Human Rights Pakistan, a state institution, told Index that it was sad to see innocent people killed by mobs over allegations of blasphemy.
“What is needed is proper training of our law enforcement agencies to pre-empt such events and act swiftly to diffuse the situation,” he said.
“Even if proof is found, can a mob become the judge, jury and executioner? Why [do we] have the courts and the judges, then?”