In what could be one of the most startling statements to emerge from Pakistan in recent years, a senior political figure has openly suggested that parts of the country—specifically Balochistan—are on the brink of breaking away. The admission, made in Pakistan’s parliament, has sent shockwaves through the region, though it seems to have flown under the radar of mainstream global media. Could this be the beginning of the end for Pakistan as we know it? Let’s dive into this explosive revelation, examine the context, and explore what’s really happening in Balochistan.
The Bombshell Statement
The statement in question comes from Maulana Fazlur Rehman, a heavyweight politician in Pakistan and a key figure in its political landscape. During a session in parliament, he dropped what can only be described as a bombshell: “In my region, there are areas where even the military has withdrawn. The police had already left long ago. Right now, five to seven districts in Balochistan are in such a position that if they declare independence today, the public would accept their plea the very next day.” He didn’t stop there. He also pointed out that southern districts of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa (KPK) are effectively lawless, with no functioning governance.
For those unfamiliar with Maulana Fazlur Rehman, he’s no small fry. As Tilak Devasher, one of India’s foremost experts on Pakistan and author of four bestselling books on the subject, puts it: “He is one of the most astute politicians in Pakistan today. He’s been part of several coalitions, chaired the Kashmir Committee, and led the Pakistan Democratic Movement that ousted Imran Khan through a no-confidence motion. When he speaks, you have to sit up and take notice.” So, when a man of his stature says that districts of Pakistan could break away, it’s not hyperbole—it’s a warning rooted in reality.
Why This Matters: A History of Rebellion
To understand the gravity of this statement, we need to rewind to Balochistan’s troubled history with Pakistan. Balochistan, Pakistan’s largest province by area (covering nearly 50% of the country’s landmass), has long been a thorn in Islamabad’s side. Despite its strategic importance and wealth of natural resources—think natural gas, copper, gold, and rare earth minerals—it’s home to just 5-6% of Pakistan’s population and remains its poorest region. The disconnect between its riches and the poverty of its people is stark, and it’s fueled decades of resentment.
When India and Pakistan were carved out of British India in 1947, princely states were given the choice to join either nation. Balochistan, then known as Kalat, didn’t want to be part of Pakistan. Its ruler even approached India to join the union, but Jawaharlal Nehru rejected the proposal, deeming it unfeasible. Left with no viable alternative, Pakistan moved swiftly. Within months of independence, the Pakistani army invaded Kalat, forced its ruler to sign the Instrument of Accession, and annexed the region. The Baloch people never forgot—or forgave—this act of coercion.
Since then, Balochistan has been a hotbed of insurgency. The first armed resistance came in 1948, led by Prince Abdul Karim, only to be brutally crushed. In 1958-59, Nawab Nauroz Khan launched another revolt against Pakistani atrocities, only to be executed. Between 1963 and 1969, Sher Mohammad Marri waged a guerrilla war that challenged the Pakistani military. The bloodiest chapter unfolded from 1973 to 1977, when over 55,000 Baloch fighters took on the Pakistani army in a rebellion that was met with airstrikes, mass killings, and forced disappearances. Each uprising was suppressed, but the anger never subsided.
The Modern Insurgency: A 20-Year Fight
Fast forward to the early 2000s, and the current wave of insurgency began taking shape. For over two decades, groups like the Balochistan Liberation Army (BLA) have been waging a relentless campaign against Pakistani forces. What started as sporadic attacks has evolved into sophisticated, well-coordinated operations targeting military installations, infrastructure, and even Chinese interests tied to the China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC).
The human cost has been devastating. According to the Voice for Baloch Missing Persons, a nonprofit organization, over 7,000 cases of enforced disappearances have been documented since 2004. Families speak of loved ones—brothers, sons, fathers—being abducted by security forces, tortured, and killed with impunity. The term “half-widow” has emerged in Balochistan to describe women whose husbands are missing, leaving them in agonizing limbo, unsure if they’re widowed or still married. Protesters demand answers, pleading, “If you must take our men, at least kill them so we can bury them and grieve.”
Culturally, the Baloch people face erasure. Their language is being phased out of schools, replaced by forced Urdu imposition. Their history is scrubbed from textbooks, and poets, writers, and historians who resist are silenced—jailed, disappeared, or murdered. Meanwhile, Balochistan’s vast resources fuel Pakistan’s economy, yet its people live in abject poverty, denied even basic access to the natural gas extracted from their land.
Enter China: The CPEC Factor
Pakistan isn’t the only player exploiting Balochistan—China has a stake too. The CPEC, a flagship project of China’s Belt and Road Initiative, runs through Balochistan, connecting Gwadar Port to China’s Xinjiang region via roads, railways, and pipelines. It’s billed as an economic game-changer, but for the Baloch, it’s a nightmare. Land is seized without consent, human trafficking is rampant, and environmental degradation is unchecked. Gwadar, handed over to China, has become a militarized zone, with Chinese workers housed in fortified enclaves while locals are excluded from any benefits.
The BLA and other Baloch groups have targeted CPEC projects, viewing them as symbols of dual oppression by Pakistan and China. In recent years, their attacks have grown bolder. In August 2024, the BLA launched “Operation Herof,” a multi-district assault on military targets that killed scores of Pakistani soldiers and weakened Islamabad’s grip on the region. Just last month, in a chilling echo of the 2019 Pulwama attack orchestrated by Pakistan against India, Baloch fighters rammed a truck loaded with 900 kg of explosives into a Pakistani army convoy in Turbat, killing nearly 50 soldiers.
A Fracturing Pakistan?
Maulana Fazlur Rehman’s statement isn’t just a reflection of Balochistan’s unrest—it’s a symptom of Pakistan’s broader unraveling. The country is grappling with an economic crisis, political instability, and growing separatist sentiments in Balochistan, KPK, and Pakistan-occupied Kashmir (PoK). In 2024 alone, the BLA claimed responsibility for 102 attacks, killing nearly 600 Pakistani security personnel. China, frustrated by the deteriorating security situation, has voiced concerns through its political secretary, Wang Shengjie, warning that the BLA’s actions are derailing CPEC and costing both nations billions.
Pakistan has long accused India of backing the BLA—a claim Baloch leaders have openly embraced, even requesting Indian support for surgical strikes akin to those in Balakot. Meanwhile, Imran Khan’s Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI), the country’s largest opposition party, is also challenging the military’s dominance, accusing it of flexing its “muscle” to suppress dissent. On the Line of Control (LoC), recent clashes have seen Pakistani forces “hammered badly” by India, forcing them to call for flag meetings—an embarrassing retreat.
What’s Next for Balochistan—and Pakistan?
So, where does this leave us? Pakistan is a nation on the edge—politically fractured, economically crippled, and culturally divided. Balochistan’s fight for independence isn’t new, but its momentum is unprecedented. With sophisticated guerrilla tactics and a clear economic target in CPEC, Baloch fighters are proving they’re capable of inflicting serious damage. If Fazlur Rehman’s prediction holds, we could see districts declaring independence, triggering a domino effect across KPK and PoK.
Could Pakistan actually break apart in the next few years? History offers a precedent: in 1971, India’s decisive intervention helped liberate Bangladesh from Pakistani rule. Today, the Baloch don’t need direct intervention—they’re already carving their own path. The question is which region will break away first: Balochistan, with its resource wealth and fierce resistance? KPK, with its Pashtun separatist undercurrents? Or PoK, where anti-Pakistan sentiment is simmering?
For now, Pakistan’s leadership is scrambling to hold its fragile coalition together. But as the cracks widen, the dreams of “Ghazwa-e-Hind” may give way to a more immediate reality: a nation forced to clutch its own survival with both hands. What do you think? Will Pakistan fracture, and if so, where will the first domino fall? Let me know in the comments below!
