By Uzma Ehtasham
There is a particular weight to words spoken in a place like Balochistan. The air, often thick with heat and history, carries declarations beyond their immediate sound, echoing into the rugged mountains and across the vast, resource-rich plains. When Field Marshal Syed Asim Munir, the nation’s chief of army staff, addressed the 17th National Workshop in the province, his message was twofold, a delicate yet firm balance between a promise and a warning. It was a statement that sought to define the very soul of the modern Pakistani state: a commitment to build and prosper from within, while standing ready to dismantle any threat that approaches its borders. At the heart of this national charter lies Balochistan itself, a province too often discussed in the language of conflict and grievance, yet described by the Field Marshal in the language of potential and pride.
To speak of its people as patriotic, talented, and resolute is not mere rhetoric; it is a necessary recalibration of a national narrative. For too long, the conversation has been dominated by what divides, rather than what unites. The true asset of Pakistan, we are reminded, is not just the gas that flows from its soil or the minerals buried in its mountains, but the human capital that walks upon it. The immense economic potential of its coastal belt, a gateway to trade routes old and new, represents a future where Pakistan is not merely surviving, but emerging as a pivotal hub. This is a vision that transcends infrastructure; it is about social justice. To marginalize the voices of separatism is not simply a security objective, but an educational and developmental one. Promoting modern education and skills development is the surest way to dismantle archaic systems and offer a compelling alternative to the siren song of discord.
Yet, this vision of internal development is set against a stark and volatile regional backdrop. The warning delivered was unequivocal: the sovereignty of Pakistan is a red line, and any violation, be it direct or orchestrated in the shadows, will be met with a severe and decisive response. This is the language of a nation that has felt the sting of proxy warfare, a conflict fought not in open fields but in the alleys of its cities and the rugged terrain of its borderlands. The assertion that enemies are engaged in a concerted effort to destabilize Pakistan from within and without points a firm finger eastwards, towards India. The evidence presented is grave, pointing to a campaign of covert operations that moves beyond the realm of speculation into the light of international reporting and startling admissions.
The invocation of a ‘The Guardian’ report, which detailed alleged Indian involvement in extraterritorial killings, lends a sobering, international credibility to long-held suspicions. When such allegations are met not with denial but with a brazen admission from a senior Indian official, it paints a disturbing picture of a new normal in regional rivalry—one where the unspoken rules of engagement have been dangerously eroded. The narrative pushed by Indian leadership, which seeks to cast Pakistan as an instigator, is framed here as a baseless pretext, a convenient fiction to mask a more aggressive design. The escalations of May and October are cited not as isolated incidents, but as chapters in a continuing story of provocation, implicating Indian intelligence in leveraging regional complexities, including relations with Afghanistan, to open a second front against Pakistan.
The situation with Afghanistan remains a festering wound, a testament to how internal and external threats can become tragically intertwined. Pakistan’s decisive response to cross-border aggression from Afghan territory, and the subsequent ceasefire brokered in Doha, represents a fragile peace. The government’s clear distinction—negotiating with the Afghan Taliban as a governing reality while refusing to parley with the Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan, the murderers of its children—is a critical one. It is a stance that prioritizes national security over political expediency. The path to a lasting solution is clear, if arduous: the Taliban government in Kabul must choose between its regional allegiances and the stability of its neighbor.
Extricating itself from subservience to Indian interests and curbing the TTP would be a transformative act, one that could guarantee peace not only for Pakistan but for an entire region weary of conflict. Ultimately, the challenge laid bare by Field Marshal Munir’s address is as much about internal cohesion as it is about external defence. A national consensus on security policy is not a luxury, but a necessity. The National Action Plan exists as a framework, but frameworks are only as strong as the collective will that upholds them.
Convening an All-Parties Conference and a joint session of parliament is the essential next step—a forum where the often-fractious voices of Pakistani politics can find a unified course of action against the existential threat of terrorism. The success of Pakistan is indeed embedded in the unity of its people and the sacrifices of its armed forces. The statement from Balochistan is a powerful symbol that the nation is striving to walk on two legs: one steadfast in defence, the other progressing on the path of development. By harnessing the latent potential of its most neglected regions and maintaining a resolute, clear-eyed stance against terrorism, Pakistan can aspire to become a nation that ensures the welfare of its own people while standing as a pillar of peace. The present moment does not call for mere agreement, but for collective action, for the protection of the homeland remains the solemn duty of every citizen.
(The writer is a public health professional, journalist, and possesses expertise in health communication, having keen interest in national and international affairs, can be reached at uzma@metro-morning.com)
