Balochistan is Pakistan’s largest and most resource-rich province, yet it is most politically fragile. It stretches across nearly half the country’s landmass and hosts reserves of natural gas, coal, copper, and gold. However, its human development indices remain among the lowest nationwide. For decades, its people have lived in the tension between marginalization and militancy, between national loyalty and unfulfilled autonomy.
It is this contradiction of potential trapped in neglect that makes Balochistan vulnerable. Not only to internal unrest, but to external exploitation by actors who view the province not as a home to millions of citizens, but as a pressure point in their geopolitical chess game.
No state has the luxury of ignoring the pain of its peripheries. But solutions will not come from foreign capitals, Twitter avatars, or intelligence-linked advisory titles.
On June 12, 2025, the Middle East Media Research Institute (MEMRI), a Washington-based think tank founded by former Israeli intelligence officer Yigal Carmon, launched what it calls the “Balochistan Studies Project.” Accompanying the announcement was the appointment of “Mir Yar Baloch” as the project’s Special Advisor-a known propagandist with a documented history of supporting the banned Baloch Liberation Army (BLA) and amplifying anti-Pakistan rhetoric that frequently mirrors Indian strategic discourse.
Balochistan has historically suffered from underrepresentation, not only in national politics but in the international imagination. Its image is often flattened into a caricature: either a hotbed of insurgency or a battleground for development. Neither captures the full complexity of a province where tribal traditions coexist with student activism, where calls for autonomy are as common as demands for jobs, and where the majority of Baloch citizens reject violence even as they seek greater dignity.
This is precisely what makes the appointment of someone like Mir Yar Baloch so cynical. A man who neither lives in the province nor reflects its democratic aspirations is being elevated by a foreign think tank to speak on behalf of a people he does not represent. In doing so, MEMRI is not amplifying Baloch’s voices but replacing them.
MEMRI claims to be an institute for media research. In reality, it has long been criticized for its selective translations and ideological slant, especially toward Islam and the Muslim world. Its founders include individuals with deep ties to Israeli military intelligence, and its track record suggests an intent to manufacture narratives that suit the foreign policy priorities of states hostile to Pakistan.
Launching a “Balochistan Studies Project” under such a banner raises legitimate questions: Who is this project really for? And what kind of “research” begins by appointing an openly partisan figure with ties to a terrorist outfit?
Pakistan is no stranger to external attempts at narrative disruption. In recent years, hybrid warfare has emerged as the preferred tool of hostile intelligence networks: blending disinformation, digital amplification, and identity distortion to destabilize internal harmony. In this playbook, “Mir Yar Baloch” is not a person; he is a proxy. A persona designed to masquerade as indigenous dissent while serving exogenous agendas.
This tactic is not unique to Pakistan. From Syria to Ukraine, hybrid actors have long created fake or fringe voices, elevated them through think tanks or media, and used them to justify international pressure, sanctions, or covert operations. What’s new is the speed and scale at which these tactics can now be deployed, thanks to social media and influencer ecosystems.
There are legitimate grievances in Balochistan, and they must be addressed through inclusive governance, sustained development, and local empowerment. No state has the luxury of ignoring the pain of its peripheries. But solutions will not come from foreign capitals, Twitter avatars, or intelligence-linked advisory titles.
The real Baloch voices are not calling for balkanization. They are demanding dignity. The students in Khuzdar, the farmer in Gwadar, the nurse in Quetta-they want jobs, education, healthcare, and political inclusion. Their struggle is for recognition within Pakistan, not separation from it.
To confuse this demand for rights with a call for rebellion is not only misleading. It is dangerous.
The MEMRI affair is a case study of how information can be weaponized to fracture a country from within. It is also a call to vigilance. Not every academic institute is neutral. Not every voice claiming to speak for a people is authentic. And not every Baloch-sounding name is born of Balochistan’s soil.
We must be able to tell the difference between critique and covert manipulation, between the voices of our people and the ventriloquists of foreign strategy.
Balochistan’s story deserves to be told but not through the lips of mercenaries in academic clothing.
The writer is a freelance columnist.