In the dusty valleys of Balochistan, there are two kinds of deaths. One is honored with a flag, a salute, and a silent prayer for peace. The other is buried under propaganda, funded hashtags, and the stench of betrayal. This is the brutal contrast between the martyrs in uniform those who lay down their lives defending Pakistan’s integrity and the militants in disguise, who masquerade as victims while waging war against the very idea of Pakistan.
The recent wave of social media glorification around names like Mahrang Baloch raises urgent questions. When did silence on terrorism become a symbol of resistance? When did those who never condemn the BLA’s crimes become moral authorities on Balochistan?
While soldiers protect highways, build schools, and guard villages, these so-called activists amplify the voices of terror under the pretext of justice. They do not grieve for the FC soldier ambushed in cold blood, nor for the child killed by a roadside blast planted by separatists. Their outrage is curated, their grief selective.
It’s not activism when you refuse to name the killer. It’s not justice when your slogans empower those who bomb buses, shoot teachers, and attack development projects meant to uplift Balochistan. And it’s certainly not bravery to do all this while hiding behind foreign-funded NGOs and media narratives designed to demonize the state.
The true voice of Balochistan isn’t in the echo chambers of Twitter or on stages funded by external lobbies. It lies in the resilience of those who wear the uniform, in the sacrifices of local teachers who brave threats to educate, in the quiet work of engineers building roads under gunfire, and in the prayers of mothers who send their sons to serve Pakistan, not sabotage it.
Let us be clear: no one speaks for Balochistan who defends militants and ignores martyrs. The time has come to stop glorifying the disguised enemies of Pakistan and start honoring those who keep its flag flying often at the cost of their lives.
