By: Ayesha Baloch
Reports circulating on social media recently claimed that Baloch armed activists entered local areas of Kharan, seized weapons from the police, and took money from a bank. The incident has sparked debate. Some see these actions as part of a long-running resistance movement, while others question their legality and moral justification, especially the taking of bank funds.
Judging such incidents in isolation, however, can be misleading. To understand their meaning, they must be viewed within a wider historical and political context.
The tradition of resistance in Balochistan is not new. After the region’s accession, one of the earliest armed movements was led by Agha Abdul Karim and his associates. Seeking support, they moved toward the Afghan border but were denied refuge. The failure of this effort was not due to a lack of commitment, but to a shortage of weapons, resources, and external backing. Despite strong political motivation, the imbalance of power between local fighters and the state proved overwhelming.
Eventually, the group entered talks with the Pakistani military. They were reportedly called with assurances, including religious guarantees, that their demands would be heard. Instead, they were arrested once they came down from the mountains. This episode highlighted a harsh reality: resistance without leverage is easily suppressed.
Such events challenge the idea that post-colonial history is simply about a peaceful transfer of power. In many cases, authority, law, and economic control remained concentrated in the hands of the state, while local populations remained excluded. Institutions such as the military, police, and financial system continued to operate beyond meaningful public accountability.
Resistance movements that arise under these conditions are often shaped by political calculation rather than emotion. A major challenge they face is the lack of resources. With little access to funding, weapons, or legal channels for protest, they are pushed toward alternative methods. When the law is seen as serving power rather than justice, its moral authority is questioned.
This helps explain why some movements adopt strategies such as seizing weapons or targeting state institutions. Where political control is enforced through force, activists argue that moral appeals alone are ineffective. From this viewpoint, attacks on police posts or state assets are framed as political acts rather than ordinary crimes.
The taking of money from banks is also understood within this framework. In conflict settings, banks are often viewed not as neutral institutions but as extensions of state authority and symbols of economic inequality. Within revolutionary thinking, redirecting such funds toward political struggle is seen as an attempt to reclaim wealth rather than steal it.
Historically, this approach has been described as revolutionary expropriation. Similar methods have been used by various movements, including the Hindustan Socialist Republican Association during the Kakori Train incident of 1925, the Irish Republican Army during its campaign against British rule, and revolutionary groups in pre-1917 Russia. In these cases, resources were used to sustain political activity, not personal benefit.
These examples raise an important question that remains relevant today: does legality always mean justice? For many resistance movements, the answer has been no. When laws are viewed as protecting inequality or repression, breaking them is framed as a challenge to an unjust system rather than a rejection of order itself.
Seen in this light, such actions are presented not as an attack on law, but as a protest against a system perceived to lack fairness and legitimacy.
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.