Daily Times

The civil autonomy of citizens and political autonomy of the state necessitate sovereignty to translate their will into action and realise the dream of their distinct recognition. Nevertheless, if that self-expression is stymied by any force, the growth of citizens and the state is stunted.

A state is stronger than its citizens and it can hedge against any oppression challenging its sovereignty. For instance, the state of Pakistan is trying to preserve its sovereignty against the recent outrageous NATO attack on Salala checkpost. In the context of interstate relations, the level of strength of a state is the final determinant. Resultantly, having found itself in a weak position, Pakistan has agitated against the attack at the forum of the UN Security Council (UNSC).

Citizens are weaker than the state they inhabit. Citizens cannot brave any oppression inflicted by the state on their sovereignty. The question is: if a state strips its citizens of sovereignty, what should the citizens do? Which forum should citizens raise their voice at?

In the Memogate scandal, when the Ministry of Defence concedes to the Supreme Court that it has no control over the armed forces or the ISI, is this disclosure not tantamount to the affirmation that the social contract that binds the state and citizens together has fizzled out? Does it not mean that there exists a parallel Pakistan engrossed in achieving parallel objectives? Does it not mean that the grievances of the Baloch against the security apparatus of Pakistan hold a bit of validity?

On the House floor, when Prime Minister Gilani feels the need of assertion that the armed forces and the ISI are subservient to parliament, is this declaration not a reflection of the groans and wails of the Baloch that parliament is not supreme — it acquiesces to the armed forces and the ISI. Consequently, there has been left no forum for the Baloch in the state to voice their concerns. The question is: if a state can protect (or tries to protect) its sovereignty against another state, why can citizens not protect their sovereignty against the state? Secondly, even if this argument is deemed true that ‘people wearing Frontier Corps (FC) personnel uniforms are behind abductions and killings’ in Balochistan, the question is: why does the original FC not bust any such gang to exonerate its name from the allegations maligning its name?

The third question is: should the state adopt the reprehensible policy of silencing dissenting voices in the name of ‘national interest’? Pakistan seems to have been infatuated with the Cold War norms of sacrificing its own people at the altar of self-defined ‘national interest’. Unfortunately, this ‘national interest’ is delineated at the (security) institutional level and not at the (democratic) parliamentary level. It is said that the ongoing war on terror has offered a smokescreen to the security apparatus of the state to abduct and kill people with impunity, especially in Balochistan. In this context, the Baloch are still trying to find an answer to the question whether the state is because of them or they are because of the state.

Pakistan seems to not realise the fact that it is not a homogenous state and hence it does not fall under the category of a true nation-state. Pakistan is divided culturally, ethnically and linguistically into several regions. That is why Pakistan is a federation, which must not run on a centralised system of governance. Other than the Universal Declaration of Human Rights of the UN Charter, there exists no internationally approved convention regrettably on how a state should treat its citizens, particularly those who are defined (or who define themselves) as somehow distinct.

Eventually, much reliance is placed on the constitution of every member state of the UN. This is where a state finds the chance to deny rights to its citizens. For instance, the provision of provincial autonomy promised in the 1973 Constitution was denied to Pakistanis until the 18th Amendment was passed. The denial of provincial autonomy offered a chance to the state to meddle in provincial matters. Balochistan suffered the most on this account. No doubt, the 18th Amendment has devolved provincial autonomy to the provinces, but the real dream of provincial autonomy, especially in the case of Balochistan, is yet to materialise.

If Pakistan’s national anthem cannot be sung and if Pakistan’s flag cannot be hoisted outside the boundaries of the government buildings in Balochistan, it means that the situation has become worse and entreats urgent attention. Subtle and non-confrontational forms of protest are common in situations where those with little power want to register their grievances against what is forced on them against their will. This kind of agitation stops short of any kind of collective defiance. More studies are required to appreciate what has made the benign resistance be replaced with an outright rebellion in Balochistan.

When Pakistan army’s spokesman Major-General Athar Abbas says that no military operation has been conducted in Balochistan since 2008, he seems to be oblivious of the fact that the repercussions of all the military operations carried out before 2008 are still blighting the province. Sadly though, people-to-people contact has been severed since the Baloch think that no non-Baloch came to their rescue and no one raised any voice on their behalf. The recent initiative of Nawaz Sharif to meet a veteran Baloch nationalist leader Sardar Ataullah Khan Mengal in Karachi and taking upon his party, the PML-N, to contest the case of Balochistan is a good omen.

What is the problem if someone says that the Pakistan Army is a ‘Punjabi army’? Why should the army of a federation not be a national army and why should it not be subservient to parliament? The Baloch should be convinced that the future of Balochistan belongs to them and they should be assured that neither the federation nor its institutions will infringe on their rights.

The writer is a freelance columnist. He can be reached at qaisarrashid@yahoo.com