Author: Dr. Mahrang Baloch
From being a site of extreme terrorism, Utøya has become a source of inspiration for all young people fighting for freedom and against injustices.
I am a human rights activist and have been campaigning against illegal detention and custodial killings in Pakistan’s Balochistan province since 2006. However, my voice has always been censored by the state, and I have faced online attacks and abuse. Recently, PEN Norway, Utøya Island, and the World Expression Forum (WEXFO) provided me with a platform to speak about human rights violations in my home country.
For the last 20 years, Balochistan has been reeling from violence and an insurgency for its liberation from Pakistan. During these two decades, to quell the insurgency for an independent Balochistan, the Pakistani security agencies have engaged in a brutal military crackdown on political activists, dissenting voices, journalists, writers, teachers, and artists. Thousands of young people have been forcibly disappeared, later killed, and their bullet-riddled bodies discarded on roadsides.
My own father also became a victim of state violence. He was first forcibly disappeared in 2006 when I was only 13. Although he was later released, he was taken again by agents of Pakistani intelligence agencies in December 2009 from Karachi. This time, he was not released; he was killed in custody, and his bullet-riddled body was found on a roadside in Balochistan. Since then, I have actively campaigned against enforced disappearances and custodial killings in Balochistan. I became more involved in this cause in 2017 when my brother was forcibly disappeared. I took to the streets, staged protest sit-ins, and held press conferences to build pressure on Pakistani authorities to release my brother. He was released after three months of detention. From that day, I realized silence was not an option. I became actively involved in campaigning against enforced disappearances and custodial killings of youth in my native Balochistan.
Since 2017, I have been arrested five times. Social media campaigns have been launched against me. My family and I have been trolled, abused, and harassed on many occasions. In November 2023, following the custodial killing of a youth by Pakistani counter-terrorism police in Balochistan’s Turbat locality near the border with Iran, I led a massive rally. I marched toward Islamabad, Pakistan’s capital. It took me a month to arrive in Islamabad after covering 1,600 kilometers. As we arrived in Islamabad in freezing temperatures in the last week of December, we were baton-charged by police. Police threw icy water on us, and 290 of us, including myself, were arrested. Most of the arrested were women, children, and elders. I was kept in a male police station for 24 hours. Later, on the intervention of the Islamabad High Court, we were released. I camped outside the National Press Club of Islamabad for a month, and during this month, the media, state police, and state institutions harassed us. The ex-caretaker Prime Minister of Pakistan called us terrorist sympathizers. Fake and pseudo-activists were created to confront me.
Even on Norwegian soil in May this year, I was harassed, filmed, and subjected to a malicious social media campaign. Later, the PST and police got involved. But at least my voice, which was not heard in Pakistan, was heard at a global forum thanks to PEN Norway, Utøya, and WEXFO. Before coming to Norway, like other rights activists from third-world countries, I also felt isolated and thought the world was not paying attention to us. But in Norway, when I met a diverse group of activists facing greater challenges, the isolation ended. I met young voices working against racism, state violence, and advocating for women’s education. I met authors, poets, journalists, and activists, each with a powerful story to share. In a week, I got to know various issues across the globe. In Utøya, which once was a symbol of terror, I realized that preserving history is more important than developing infrastructure and increasing per capita income. I saw how Norwegians have educated their population by preserving history. But in my part of the country, if something like this happens, the first thing the police will do is burn the evidence to escape criticism for their failure to prevent terrorism.
When I saw pictures and messages of victims of the 2011 attack, I was surprised. I took pictures, and when I returned home, I showed them to my mother and told her this is how society develops. Accepting mistakes is not wrong; it is how society progresses. But in our society, history is distorted. Talking about failure is necessary. Until you talk about it, you can’t prevent it.
Contrary to this, in Pakistan, when people are forcibly disappeared, the police refuse to register their cases. When they are killed in custody, the state labels them as terrorists and claims they were killed in counter-terrorism operations. When someone like me raises their voice for them, they face criminal charges.
I am now back in Pakistan after completing my trip to Norway, and here I face sedition charges for an incident that happened on May 18, with the police filing a case against me on June 7. This is clearly in reaction to my tour of Norway and is intended to restrict my activism. Just as the massacre carried out by Anders Behring Breivik on July 22, 2011, in Utøya could neither restrict Norwegian liberalism nor its politically independent youth, it has instead transformed Utøya into a symbol of interculturalism and diversity. It has become a platform for voiceless voices like me, who are undermined, criticized, abused, and declared traitors in their home countries.
Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of The Balochistan Post or any of its editors.