Balochistan’s Problems and the Sardari System
On September 8 and 15, 2025, I wrote a two-part column titled “The Sardari System: The Root Cause of Balochistan’s Problems.” In that column, I argued that one of the central causes of Balochistan’s difficulties is its outdated tribal and sardari system. For decades, this structure has kept ordinary Baloch citizens dependent and, in my view, has discouraged the children of poor families from gaining education, understanding their rights, becoming economically independent, and establishing their own place in society.
The reason is simple: the day an ordinary Baloch youth becomes educated, aware, and financially self-reliant, the foundations of hereditary political and social domination begin to weaken. Sardars benefit when ordinary people remain dependent on them, seek favors from them, follow their directions, and allow them to influence even the most important decisions about their future. This mindset has contributed to keeping Balochistan behind in the journey of development.
Those who have long raised slogans about Balochistan’s deprivation and underdevelopment have also conducted politics in the name of Baloch rights. But an important question remains: what practical steps have they taken to expand education in their own areas? Have they created opportunities for young people to acquire skills, employment, or businesses so they can stand on their own feet? If not, then placing the entire responsibility for Balochistan’s backwardness solely on the state is, in my view, unfair.
The sardari system is built around a concentration of power in which a few families dominate entire areas and often treat poor citizens as subjects rather than equals. This is why the education of a poor Baloch child can become a direct challenge to such monopoly. Once a person receives a book, questions arise. Questions produce awareness, and awareness enables people to recognize their rights. In a society where education becomes widespread, hereditary centers of power that depend on public weakness cannot remain unchallenged forever.
The severity of the system can also be seen in allegations that some sardars maintain private detention facilities where people are kept imprisoned. On one side, slogans of Baloch freedom and rights are raised, while on the other, ordinary people are allegedly deprived of their own freedom. This contradiction raises a basic question: if someone cannot tolerate the independence of an ordinary Baloch citizen in his own area, how can he claim to be the champion of freedom for the whole of Balochistan?
Perhaps an even greater injustice to Baloch youth is when their deprivation is used not to build their future but to turn their minds against the state. They are told disputed or distorted versions of history, their grievances are repeatedly emphasized, and some are eventually pushed toward militancy. A young person is told that picking up a gun is a struggle for rights, whereas the first victim of that gun is often his own future.
The hand that could have held a pen is made to hold a weapon. A young man who could have been sitting in a university planning his future is instead pushed into the mountains. Someone who could have supported his family is sent toward a violent and degrading end, after which even his death may become part of a political narrative. The tragedy is twofold: the young person loses his life, and his family is left to carry the consequences.
If this is genuinely a struggle for Baloch freedom, then another set of questions must be asked. Why are development projects attacked? Why are mosques and religious seminaries targeted? Why are roads and bridges destroyed? Why are schools and hospitals damaged? Why are laborers working on construction and development projects killed? Why are public installations and services attacked?
The road that takes a Baloch child to school, the hospital where he is supposed to receive treatment, and the project that is meant to create employment are all directly connected to the welfare of ordinary people. Destroying these facilities cannot reasonably be presented as protection of their rights.
There is also no doubt, in my view, that India has played a role in worsening the security situation in Balochistan. The purpose of providing militant organizations with weapons, training, or financial support would not be the welfare of the Baloch people but the destabilization of the province.
In recent days, the Director General of ISPR also addressed Balochistan during a press conference and stated that the province’s fundamental problem lies in its sardari and elite system. He said that a particular status quo seeks to keep ordinary people, especially poorer communities, deprived of education and development. He also alleged that some sardars threaten violence when their demands are not met and that certain tribal leaders are directly involved in terrorism.
The real question, then, is what these sardars actually want. If they genuinely care for the Baloch people, their first priority should be allowing young people to advance through education. They should provide access to books, skills, employment, and business opportunities. Sending young people to the mountains with guns is not service to Balochistan’s future; it is the destruction of that future.
Balochistan receives a budget of more than one trillion rupees. This money is not the personal property of any sardar; it belongs to the people of Balochistan. If someone demands a personal share in public resources and uses terrorism as a means of pressure to obtain it, how can such a person be described as a sincere well-wisher of the Baloch people?
The youth of Balochistan must understand that their future does not belong in the hands of a sardar, a militant organization, or a foreign power. The state cannot be blackmailed through terrorism. Public money must be spent on the public, and every citizen should be equal before the law.
No young Baloch is born subordinate to a tribal chief. Every Baloch youth is free and entitled to the same rights as a sardar or the son of a sardar.
Balochistan does not need guns; it needs books. It does not need hatred; it needs education. It does not need terrorism; it needs employment. It does not need hereditary monopoly; it needs the rule of law.
Above all, Balochistan needs a future in which no one can prevent its children from moving forward.
