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PAKISTAN’S OTHER INSURGENTSA Day in the Desert With Baloch GuerrillasPublished November, 2009TEXT AND PHOTOS BY KARLOS ZURUTUZA 
The departure point was in Pakistani Balochistan. Our hosts, a patrol of Baloch guerrillas, requested that we be no more specific than that. The driver and his passenger had their faces wrapped tightly so that only their eyes showed. Before we began the trip deep into the desert, Said (my contact) and I were blindfolded for “security reasons.” For two hours we rode like this, our eyes covered, in a 4x4 with tinted windows. “Paadha, Baloch,” a popular tune, hissed on the car stereo the entire time: “Wake up, Baloch, we’re at war!” Gobbled up by Pakistan in 1948, East Balochistan shares borders with—surprise!—North and West Balochistan. But here’s the rub: These two latter regions are under Afghan and Iranian control respectively, making it one seriously confusing mix of angry rebels. Pakistani Balochistan isn’t mentioned all that often in news reports, despite its potentially massive value to the US in the foundering war in Afghanistan and its reputation as being a vast potential source of energy for whatever creative politician or mercenary finally wins it over completely. Beneath our feet were enviable loads of unaccounted-for uranium, gold, oil, and natural gas. Naturally the Americans are interested, primarily in the hope of gaining access to the Turkmenistan-Afghanistan-Pakistan-India (TAPI) gas duct, which was set for construction in 2010 and will make an “energy bridge,” according to reports, out of Iran. Both India and Iran are interested in the already approved, yet to be constructed Iran-Pakistan-India (IPI) pipeline. The IPI is referred to as the “Peace Pipeline,” at least by the three antsy militaries it will service. In fact, the only thing that appears to make this area interesting to the media is that Quetta, Pakistani Balochistan’s capital, is also home to a more noteworthy rebel, Taliban boss Mullah Mohammed Omar. But this does little for these secular eastern Baloch insurgents, whose war is far less complicated than the Taliban’s: They don’t want to be part of Pakistan. At 1 AM, we were delivered to another batch of soldiers, and together we began the second part of our journey: a wrenching five-hour walk, in the middle of the night, against a granite backdrop. “Be careful where you stand,” our guide warned, “the half-red moon is not going to come looking for us.” It was an easy sell. The night was so dark it wouldn’t take much to be separated from the group and get left for dead—killed either by starvation, enemy patrols, or, worst of all, government soldiers. For reasons that involve being shot in the face or having a bomb dropped in your vicinity, it’s forbidden to carry any type of light. When we arrived at our destination, there was a tall shadow of a soldier praying next to a cliff where the sun was rising. Two guerrillas appeared from behind a cluster of black stones, greeting us in Balochi (“Salaam, heriat, tik-tak”) as they shook our hands. Another soldier filled a canteen with river water, mixed it with sugar and lemon juice, and offered it to us. The sun was now high enough to show just how sparse their camp was—no buildings, no huts, not even a cave for shelter from the cold or a day-ruining air raid. A soldier explained this was so they could abandon the camp quickly, leaving behind only rocks blackened by the fire, which they used to grill lamb meat. “You can have a rest here,” our guide said, pointing to a Baloch carpet spread out on a large, flat rock. The sound of children’s voices nearby drew our curiosity. It was a family of nomads. A shepherd wearing a kulla (the traditional red Baloch bonnet) was followed by two camels walking in a line. The first camel carried a few cooking utensils and the black cloth of a haima. The second camel carried a woman with a baby in her arms. Four children watered sheep in a nearby river. Mother and daughters were each dressed in a colorful pashk, a traditional Baloch dress with metal rivets that indicates their tribe. “Please don’t photograph the shepherds,” one of the guerrillas said. This too was for security reasons, of course, but also because a Baloch woman being photographed would be the unwelcome talk of the town. It was impossible to tell where we were exactly. In fact, it wasn’t all that clear who it was we had hitched on with, either. Balochistan is riddled with nationalist rebel groups, the most important of which are the Balochistan Liberation Army, the Baloch Republican Army (BRA), and the Lashkar-e-Balochistan (Army of Balochistan).
See all articles by this contributor
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