Author: Diljan Baloch
War has often served as the ultimate form of competition between two rivals, with its outcome justifying the existence of the more competent. Throughout history, humanity has been continually engaged in wars, which have taken everything from some while providing everything to others. These intense battles, sometimes against nature, other times against fellow human beings, have shaped the world we live in today. War has been a driving force in history, propelling the cycles of life and change. Those with superior courage and valor have conquered the weak, the lazy, the pacifists, and the unqualified. It is the true nature of humankind; peace is merely the period between wars, nothing more. Peace has never been perpetual, whereas war endures. Those who avoid this path are destined to live and die in slavery.
The secret of survival lies in humanity’s quest for war. This pursuit leads to dominance and prosperity. However, war is never easy; it demands sacrifices of oneself and of one’s closest relationships. It requires unity among a nation, organization, and unwavering determination to achieve its objectives and end goals. War brings chaos, anarchy, and bloodshed. The valiant who choose the path of war and face death for their people and land die as martyrs; their sacrifice serves as a symbol. Their sacrifice becomes the guiding star for future generations. Here, I will discuss humanity’s greatest ability: the willingness to die for a cause a cause dedicated to the greater good of one’s people: Martyrdom. We will seek to understand this noble and heroic phenomenon from a philosophical standpoint.
As we fully acknowledge and embrace the reality of the Baloch nation bound in slavery and servitude for over a century and a half, we recognize a ceaseless curse that has hung upon us since the British colonizers entered our sacred land. It was then that our everlasting, resilient resistance began. Though weak, divided, and minimally equipped, our forefathers resolutely embarked on the path of resistance. Today, on Baloch Martyrs’ Day, we are reminded of the sacrifices made by our forefathers, predecessors, and fellow countrymen. The history of our boundless sacrifices began with the courage of the Khan of Kalat, Mir Mehrab Khan, and his companions, who gave their lives on November 13, 1839. Mir Mehrab Khan was a pioneer who refused to bow to the British invaders, embracing death instead. He instilled a timeless spirit of resistance and sacrifice in the generations that followed, inspiring the Baloch nation. Though the British, and later the Punjabis, deliberately buried his stories of courage and valor, we continue to sense and feel Mir Mehrab Khan’s presence through his philosophy of sacrifice in both past and present generations. We have witnessed, and are witnessing, his sons and daughters who sacrifice themselves in the fight for freedom, dooming the enemy with their relentless dedication and bravery. Thus, each generation carries within it the instinct for courage, bravery, and dedication, willing to sacrifice for the sovereignty and freedom of the Baloch nation.
Today, we live in the shadows of slavery and subjugation, with each passing day bringing death and misery to our people. In a life of slavery, we have no control over our own lives; the colonial power, acting as sovereign, decides who among us shall live or die. Under such conditions, we must strive to understand the material realities imposed upon us. Our very right to existence is at stake. Everywhere we look, we see concentration camps, torture cells, military raids, checkpoints, and barricades. During these raids, our loved ones are abducted, humiliated, and tortured. Living under colonial rule means enduring a state of permanent pain and suffering: fortified structures, military posts, and roadblocks everywhere; buildings that bring back painful memories of humiliation, interrogations, and beatings; curfews that imprison hundreds of thousands in their cramped homes every night from dusk to daybreak; soldiers patrolling the streets, frightened by their own shadows; children blinded by rubber bullets; parents shamed and beaten in front of their families bones broken; shootings and fatalities a certain kind of madness.
In our motherland, it does not matter how, when, or where we are born or die. Here the colonial state derives its fundamental claim of sovereignty and legitimacy from the authority of its own particular narrative of history and identity. History, geography, religion, and archaeology are often used to reinforce these claims, binding identity closely to the land. Consequently, colonial violence and occupation are profoundly justified by the “sacred terror” of claimed truths and exclusivity, leading to actions like mass expulsions, the confinement of our people in detention centres, and the establishment of new colonies and cantonments. Beneath this sacred terror lies the perpetual search for missing remains, the constant remembrance of bodies shattered and fragmented beyond recognition, and the challenge or impossibility of confronting an “original crime,” an unspeakable death. There is no easy escape from this reality, and our people fully understand it. They are ready to fight, embracing the possibility of death and the terrors of this abyss.
We are living in a permanent state of siege, which allows a modality of killing that does not distinguish between a combatant and an unarmed, entire populations are targets of colonizers. Where daily life is militarized, and local military officers and death squads are free to kill whom and when. Our indigenous social and political institutions are destroyed, and people are deprived of their means of income.
Philosophy of Sacrifice, Death and Freedom
As subjugated and oppressed people without control over our own lives, for us, life has become more horrific than death. Here, death serves as a pathway to freedom. Being deprived of true autonomy, choosing our own death becomes a rare privilege. Hegel’s discussion of the relationship between death and the formation of subjectivity holds particular significance for us.
Hegel’s view on death involves a dual concept of negativity. First, humans negate nature, seeking to mold it to their own needs. Second, they transform what is negated through work and struggle. By reshaping nature, the human being creates a world yet simultaneously confronts its own limitations. In Hegel’s philosophy, human death is essentially voluntary, arising from risks consciously taken by the subject. In facing these risks, the “animal” aspect of human nature—the part that seeks only survival—is transcended.
For Hegel, true subjectivity emerges through struggle and the willingness to confront death (understood as a form of existential negation). This confrontation casts the individual into the relentless movement of history, as becoming a subject requires embracing the “work of death.” Hegel describes the life of the Spirit as a life not terrified of death nor one that seeks to avoid destruction. Instead, it is a life that assumes death as part of its essence. Spirit reaches its truth only through an encounter with absolute dismemberment. Thus, to live and act politically in such conditions means engaging with the work of death itself. The humanity of a Baloch appears in a perfect shadow, indeed, being a slave means losing everything, a loss of home, a loss of right over the body and a loss of political status. This loss is identical to absolute domination, natal alienation and social death. We are not considered as a community if only because community implies the exercise of the power of speech and thought. Slave life, in many ways, is a form of death in life. And in order to transform these conditions, we ought to accept death and martyrdom so that our future generations can live in peace.
Life for a Baloch presents two distinct realities: survival and martyrdom. The survivor is one who, having stood in the path of death, witnessing many deaths and standing among the fallen, remains alive. More precisely, the survivor is the one who has faced a multitude of enemies and managed not only to escape but to overcome and kill those who attacked. In this sense, survival at its most basic level often means killing. In the logic of survival, “each person is the enemy of every other.” More radically, this survival instinct transforms one’s horror at the sight of death into relief that it is another, not oneself, who has died. It is the death of the other—their physical presence as a corpse—that reinforces the survivor’s sense of uniqueness. With each enemy killed, the survivor feels more secure.
On the other side of life stands the logic of martyrdom, which proceeds on different lines. It is epitomized in the figure of a “Fidyee” (self-sacrificer). The candidate for martyrdom transforms their body into a mask that conceals a soon-to-be-detonated weapon. Unlike a visible tank or missile, this weapon, carried in the form of the body, remains unseen. So intimately connected to the body, it annihilates its bearer upon detonation, often taking with it the bodies of others or reducing them to fragments. The body does not merely hide a weapon; it becomes the weapon itself—not metaphorically, but in the most literal, ballistic sense.
In the logic of “martyrdom,” the will to die is intertwined with the intent to take the enemy along, effectively shutting the door to the possibility of life for everyone involved. This logic stands in stark contrast to another, which seeks to impose death on others while preserving one’s own life. The besieged body becomes like a piece of metal, designed through sacrifice to bring about eternal life. In death, the body duplicates itself, both literally and metaphorically, breaking free from the state of siege and occupation.
In conclusion, let us explore the relationship between terror, freedom, and sacrifice. Martin Heidegger argues that a human’s “being toward death” is the essential condition for true freedom. In other words, one is free to live one’s life only because one is free to die one’s death. While Heidegger grants an existential significance to ‘being toward death,’ viewing it as an event of freedom. The self-sacrificed individual claims power over their own death, facing it directly. This power arises from the belief that the destruction of one’s body does not disrupt the continuity of being; the idea is that being exists beyond the individual self.
In such circumstances, life’s discipline and the demands of hardship—this trial by death—are marked by an intensity beyond measure. What links terror, death, and freedom is an ecstatic experience of time and politics. The future can be genuinely anticipated but never fully realized in the present. Instead, the present is a moment of vision—a glimpse of freedom yet to come. Here, death in the present acts as the mediator of redemption. Rather than a limit or barrier, it is experienced as a release from terror and bondage.His preference for death over continued servitude speaks to the essence of freedom. For the enslaved or colonized, this lack of freedom defines their existence, shaping how they perceive their own mortality. It is the realm over which one has control, the space where freedom and negation converge.
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.