Some disappeared are released, broken by torture. Some are formally charged. Some are killed and their bodies dumped.

Some human rights crises burst into international consciousness through a single image, a single video, a single act of resistance that the world cannot ignore. Other crises unfold in the dark, year after year, building a pile of unaddressed suffering that grows so high it becomes invisible. Balochistan belongs to the second category. It is the most underreported sustained human rights crisis in modern South Asia, and the international community’s silence on it is one of the diplomatic failures of our time.

The numbers, when assembled, are difficult to dismiss. The Baloch Yakjehti Committee documented over 1,250 cases of enforced disappearance in 2025. The Human Rights Council of Balochistan recorded 1,455 cases in the same year. Paank, the human rights wing of the Baloch National Movement, documented 95 enforced disappearances in November 2025 alone, along with 21 cases of severe torture and 20 extrajudicial killings. These figures, reflecting only what could be verified, suggest that what is happening in Balochistan is not occasional repression but a sustained campaign of state violence against a population.

The Pattern of Disappearances

The mechanism of enforced disappearance in Balochistan follows a well-documented pattern. Pakistani security forces, operating in plain clothes or in uniform, conduct raids on homes, often at night, and take individuals away without warrants, charges, or notification of family members. The detained person enters a network of informal detention centres run by the army or intelligence services, where they may be held for weeks, months, or years without external contact.

Some of the disappeared are eventually released, often visibly broken by torture, with explicit warnings against speaking publicly about their experience. Some are formally charged after extended periods in incommunicado detention and transferred to regular prison. Some are killed during their detention, with their bodies dumped near roads or in remote areas, in what Baloch activists call kill and dump operations. And some simply vanish, never accounted for, leaving families to wait indefinitely for information that does not come.

The targets of disappearance are not, by and large, militants. They are students, lecturers, journalists, doctors, lawyers, and human rights activists. Mahrang Baloch, the woman human rights defender who has emerged as the most prominent voice of the movement, is a medical doctor. Many of her colleagues in the Baloch Yakjehti Committee come from professional and academic backgrounds. The pattern is one of targeting the educated, articulate, and organisationally capable members of Baloch civil society, not just suspected separatists.

Some disappeared are released, broken by torture. Some are formally charged. Some are killed and their bodies dumped. Some simply vanish, never accounted for, leaving families to wait indefinitely.

The Recent Escalation

The crisis in Balochistan has escalated sharply since 2024. The triggering events have included a March 2025 attack by Baloch separatists on a passenger train, after which Pakistani authorities launched broad sweeps under the Counter Terrorism Department and arrested or disappeared several prominent Baloch human rights defenders. In response to peaceful protests organised against these arrests, Quetta police stormed a Baloch Yakjehti Committee gathering at the University of Balochistan in March 2025. A subsequent sit-in, organised by Mahrang Baloch and other activists, was raided by police using batons and tear gas at five-thirty in the morning.

The pattern continued through 2025 and into 2026. The provincial government’s approval of the Balochistan Prevention, Detention and Deradicalisation Rules 2025, signed off by Chief Minister Sarfraz Bugti, was understood by human rights organisations as a state attempt to legalise the disappearance system that had been operating informally for years. The new rules permit the designation of individuals as suspects subject to interrogation in detention centres, formalising what had previously been an extra-legal practice.

Federal-level changes have made the situation worse. Amendments to Pakistan’s Anti-Terrorism Act of 1997 now allow law enforcement to detain individuals for up to three months without charge or judicial oversight. This power has been used repeatedly against Mahrang Baloch and other Baloch Yakjehti Committee activists. The legal framework that emerged in 2025 essentially provides Pakistani authorities with broad discretion to detain whoever they wish for as long as they wish, with minimal accountability.

The International Response Gap

The international response to Balochistan has been thin compared to the scale of the crisis. UN human rights experts have issued statements. Some Western governments have raised concerns in private diplomatic channels. Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International have published reports. But there has been no sustained international campaign comparable to those organised around other comparable crises. There has been no UN Security Council attention. There have been no targeted sanctions against the Pakistani officials responsible. There has been no equivalent of the Magnitsky-style measures that Western states use for other human rights abusers.

The reasons for this gap are partly geopolitical. Pakistan has been treated as an important state by various Western governments, by China, and by Saudi Arabia. Each of these relationships has imposed costs on the willingness of those states to confront Pakistan publicly on its conduct in Balochistan. But the gap is not just about external geopolitics. It is also about the difficulty of access. Foreign journalists are largely barred from Balochistan. Foreign human rights observers face severe restrictions. The information space is, by Pakistani design, opaque. As a result, what is happening in Balochistan does not generate the kind of viral images and stories that drive sustained international attention.

This dynamic has allowed the Pakistani state to operate in Balochistan with a degree of impunity that would not be tolerated anywhere with greater external scrutiny. The pattern of disappearances has continued for over two decades. The international response has been incremental concern, rarely translating into structural pressure.

What Operation Sindoor Changed

Operation Sindoor, indirectly, has begun to change the international information environment around Pakistan. The detailed exposure of Pakistan’s relationship with Jaish-e-Mohammed and Lashkar-e-Taiba during the May 2025 conflict, combined with international attention to the Pahalgam massacre, has raised broader questions about the Pakistani state’s conduct. Some of those questions extend naturally to Balochistan. If Pakistan’s security establishment is willing to host UN-designated terrorists in major cities, what is it willing to do to its own citizens in marginalised provinces?

Indian diplomatic engagement with international human rights bodies has also become more sophisticated. The contrast between India’s open society in Kashmir, where journalists work and tourists travel, and Pakistan’s closed system in Balochistan has been highlighted in international forums by Indian representatives in ways that previously felt heavy-handed but now resonate more credibly.

The Baloch movement itself has become more articulate, more organised, and more capable of presenting its case in international languages. Mahrang Baloch’s prominence as a face of the movement has helped. So has the work of diaspora communities in Europe, North America, and the Gulf, who have built advocacy networks that did not exist a decade ago.

These developments are early. They have not yet translated into the structural international pressure that would force a change in Pakistani conduct. But they represent a shift in the information landscape that, if sustained, may eventually force the world to look more carefully at what has been happening in Balochistan for far too long. The first step is to refuse to look away. Operation Sindoor, by exposing what Pakistan does abroad, may help sustain attention on what Pakistan does at home. That is a small consolation for the families of the missing. It is not nothing.

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view.

A state that relies on disappearing its citizens, disenfranchising its minorities, and outsourcing its justice to religious mobs is a state in retreat from the modern world.

Amidst the complex landscape of South Asian geopolitics, Pakistan finds itself at a precarious crossroads where the traditional boundaries of law and statecraft are increasingly blurred by shadow policies and the instrumentalization of religious sentiment.

As of early 2026, the structural integrity of Pakistan’s social contract is under unprecedented strain. The state’s reliance on extrajudicial mechanisms to manage dissent, coupled with a legislative environment that increasingly narrows the definition of a “citizen,” has created a cycle of instability that transcends simple political friction.

To understand the current crisis, one must look at the three pillars of this systemic decay: the normalization of enforced disappearances, the institutionalization of religious repression, and the calculated weaponization of faith as a tool of political and social control.

The Shadow State and the Silence of the Disappeared

The phenomenon of enforced disappearances has evolved from a sporadic counter-insurgency tactic into a standardized instrument of state governance.

Throughout 2024 and 2025, reports from the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan (HRCP) and international monitors like Amnesty International have painted a grim picture of a “culture of impunity” that operates beyond the reach of the judiciary.

In Balochistan alone, the numbers are staggering; data from November 2025 indicated at least 106 new cases of enforced disappearances in a single month. This is not merely a regional security issue but a nationwide crisis of constitutionalism.

The human face of this crisis was most vividly captured by the Baloch Long March and the subsequent leadership of activists like Mahrang Baloch.

In late 2024, the targeting of women activists marked a disturbing escalation in the state’s crackdown. The “kill and dump” policy—a term now synonymous with the discovery of mutilated bodies of formerly disappeared persons—continues to terrorize marginalized communities.

Despite the 2024 United States Department of State Human Rights Report highlighting these “unlawful or arbitrary killings,” the domestic response has been largely performative.

The Commission of Inquiry on Enforced Disappearances (COIED), established to address these grievances, has been widely criticized by civil society as a “clearing house” for state narrative rather than a mechanism for justice.

Families of the missing, many of whom have spent over a decade in protest camps, find themselves trapped in a legal vacuum where the state neither acknowledges the detention nor produces the body, effectively erasing the individual from the legal record.

Institutionalized Repression: The Shrinking Space for Minorities

While the shadow state deals with political dissent, the legislative state has been busy refining the machinery of religious repression.

In Pakistan, faith is not a private matter of conscience but a public marker of legal status. For the Christian and Hindu communities, 2024 and 2025 have been years defined by a terrifying “weaponization of the womb.”

In Sindh, where over 90% of the Hindu population resides, human rights groups estimate that over 1,000 minority girls are forcibly converted and married off each year.

A harrowing case in June 2025 involved the abduction of four Hindu siblings—including a 14-year-old boy and a 16-year-old girl—from their home in Shahdadpur. Within 48 hours, forced videos were circulated online to “validate” their conversion, a tactic increasingly used to bypass legal scrutiny.

The Christian community remains similarly besieged. Following the horrific Jaranwala violence of August 2023, the subsequent years have offered little justice. As of late 2025, despite over 5,000 people being initially accused of burning 26 churches and 80 homes, convictions remain virtually non-existent.

Instead, the judicial system has seen cases like that of Shagufta Kiran, a Christian woman sentenced to death in September 2024 for allegedly sharing “blasphemous” material in a digital chat group.

This environment of selective justice ensures that while the mob remains free, the minority victim remains incarcerated or in hiding.

The Blasphemy Industrial Complex and the Weaponization of Faith

The most volatile element of this triad is the weaponization of faith through the country’s blasphemy laws. What were once intended as colonial-era protections against communal disharmony have been transformed into a “blasphemy industrial complex.”

In 2024, the HRCP estimated that over 750 people remained in prison on blasphemy charges, many of them languishing for years without trial.

However, the most dangerous development in 2025 has been the emergence of what activists call “blasphemy gangs”—organized groups that use social media to entrap individuals, particularly the youth, in fabricated religious controversies to extort money.

This weaponization has led to a total breakdown of the rule of law in instances of mob violence.

The lynching of a man in police custody in Quetta in September 2024, and the subsequent “encounter” killing of a doctor in Umerkot by police officers after he was accused of blasphemy, illustrate a terrifying trend: the state is no longer just failing to protect the accused; its agents are actively participating in the summary execution of those accused of religious offenses.

When the state itself adopts the logic of the mob, the judicial process becomes a mere formality. The Tehreek-e-Labbaik Pakistan (TLP) and similar groups have successfully shifted the “Overton window” of Pakistani politics, making it political suicide for any mainstream leader to suggest reform of these laws.

The consequences of this three-fold crisis are clear. A state that relies on disappearing its citizens, disenfranchising its minorities, and outsourcing its justice to religious mobs is a state in retreat from the modern world.

The analytical consensus for 2026 suggests that unless there is a fundamental shift toward civilian supremacy and a genuine commitment to pluralism, the internal contradictions of the Pakistani state will continue to manifest in cycles of violence and international isolation.

The path forward requires more than just legislative reform; it requires a dismantling of the security paradigm that views its own citizens as the primary threat to national integrity.

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view.