Author and translator Jenny Bhatt in conversation with Editor Kamil Ahsan. COMMUNITY Authenticity & Exoticism Author and translator Jenny Bhatt in conversation with Editor Kamil Ahsan. VOL. 1 INTERVIEW AUTHOR AUTHOR AUTHOR Watch the interview on YouTube or IGTV. ALSO IN THIS ISSUE: AUTHOR Heading 5 Heading 5 Heading 5 Heading 5 AUTHOR Heading 5 Watch the interview on YouTube or IGTV. SHARE Facebook ↗ Twitter ↗ LinkedIn ↗ Interview Dallas 4th Sep 2020 Interview Dallas Diaspora Short Stories Debut Authors Writing After Loss L.L. McKinney Gujarat Riots Gujarati Modi Kuchibhotla Hindutva Paratext Authenticity Exoticism Desi Books Internationalist Solidarity Literary Solidarity Community Building Translation Affect Personal History Perspective Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Often when we get invited to public arenas, we end up having to talk about immigration, or discrimination—and we never really get to talk about craft. RECOMMENDED: The Shehnai Virtuoso and Other Stories , the first substantive English translation of the Gujarati short story pioneer, Dhumketu (1892–1965 .) The first book-length Gujarati to English translation published in the US, translated by Jenny Bhatt. More Fiction & Poetry: Date Authors Heading 5 Date Authors Heading 5 Date Authors Heading 5 Date Authors Heading 5 Date Authors Heading 5 Date Authors Heading 5

POETRY EDITOR Palvashay Sethi Palvashay Sethi is a writer and teacher based in Islamabad. POETRY EDITOR WEBSITE INSTAGRAM TWITTER Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 LOAD MORE

For the editorial team, FLUX was an event about the immense shifts frequent whiplash of ideas, norms and political realities we were experiencing; wearily towing vessels we knew were obsolete day in and day out. INTERACTIVE FLUX · A Preface Divya Nayar · Kamil Ahsan · Vishakha Darbha For the editorial team, FLUX was an event about the immense shifts frequent whiplash of ideas, norms and political realities we were experiencing; wearily towing vessels we knew were obsolete day in and day out. On Intent FLUX was held on 5th December 2020 during Volume 1 of SAAG. The event's discussions were largely in the context of US politics, with some exceptions, and thus focused more on American diasporic views than our content in general. For the editorial team, FLUX: An Evening in Dissent was about the immense shifts frequent whiplash of ideas, norms and political realities we were experiencing; wearily towing vessels we knew were obsolete day in and day out. Things that seemed, finally, ripe as they could ever be had suddenly turned utopian. A global pandemic that had stranded us all emotionally and psychically. A sense—despite the defeat of Donald Trump—of a heightened sociopolitical danger amongst the US Left in the wake of the historic progressive defeat of the Bernie Sanders and Elizabeth Warren campaigns in the Democratic primaries. A dissipated progressive movement. Disillusionment with local and national politicians who reneged on promises to defund the police following a summer of protests after the killing of George Floyd. A media landscape monopolized by corporate elites. A lack of inaction on meaningful abolitionist goals, from prisons to detention centers, that had gotten mainstream attention in unprecedent fashion just weeks or months earlier. As the panels with Nikil Saval, Kshama Sawant, Bhavik Lathia, Jaya Rajamani discussed, this retrenchment of the centrist wing of the Democratic Party—the old guard, that had seemed tenuous for some time—was at the time asserting itself powerfully in the form of cabinet appointment announcements and a sense of unease that, truly, not much would change. What could we do whilst in eternal quarantine? Most crucially: where could we find optimism? We found it in media spaces, in the poetics of internationalism, in the attempts to think about capitalism & neoliberalism during a global pandemic in internationalist terms, whilst also being specific about what we wished to highlight about the American context. Whether it was housing rights protests in Philadelphia, protests to tax Amazon in Seattle, or harsh truths about the Left's failure to engage with key demographics based on statistics from the general election, even the demoralizing moment gave us a great deal to be honest about. Meanwhile, those in other countries offered great succor and support in community building. All of this was reflected in the design system by Divya Nayar & videography by Vishakha Darbha that allowed the event to move smoothly. The background generative artwork shown above was created by Designer Neha Mathew was literally evokes fluid topography: the sense of the grounds shifting beneath our feet heightening our sense of change and even danger. Scroll below to subscribe to our newsletter today & get exclusive news about our upcoming in-person and virtual events. Navigate through FLUX: An Evening in Dissent through the links below, or watch the full event on YouTube or IGTV ( Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 ) Natasha Noorani's Live Performance of "Choro" Jaishri Abichandani's Art Studio Tour Kshama Sawant & Nikil Saval: A panel on US left electoralism, COVID-19, recent victories, & lasting problems. Tarfia Faizullah: Poetry Reading Bhavik Lathia & Jaya Sundaresh: A panel on the US Left & its relationship with media in the wake of Bernie Sanders' loss. Rajiv Mohabir: Poetry Reading SAAG, So Far: A Panel with the Editors DJ Kiran: A Celebratory Set ALSO IN THIS ISSUE: AUTHOR Heading 5 Heading 5 Heading 5 Heading 5 AUTHOR Heading 5 Generative artwork by Neha Mathew. SHARE Facebook ↗ Twitter ↗ LinkedIn ↗ Event The Editors 2020 US Election US North American Diaspora Internationalism Crisis The Disillusionment of the Left Post-George Floyd Moment Defund the Police Racial Justice Pandemic COVID-19 FLUX Internationalist Solidarity Literary Solidarity Nikil Saval Kshama Sawant Natasha Noorani Darakshan Raja Jaya Rajamani Bhavik Lathia Tarfia Faizullah Rajiv Mohabir Divya Nayar, formerly Design Director at SAAG, is a multi-disciplinary artist and designer currently at Code and Theory. She is based in Queens. KAMIL AHSAN is an environmental historian at Yale, a Franke Fellow in Science and the Humanities, and the founder of SAAG. He is an essayist and critic currently based in New Haven, Lahore, and New York. VISHAKHA DARBHA is a multimedia journalist, currently an Associate Producer on The New York Times Opinion audio team, formerly with The Atlantic, Mother Jones, Vox , and Grist . She is based in New York. Event The Editors 5th Dec 2020 On That Note: Chats Ep. 9 · On the Essay Collection “Southbound” 19th MAY FLUX · Kshama Sawant & Nikil Saval on US Left Electoralism & COVID-19 5th DEC FLUX · A Celebratory Set by DJ Kiran 5th DEC

“Partly because of the lockdown, things were suddenly more visible. It was like a veil was lifted. There was a heightening of cases of domestic violence, for instance, which we knew about but had to deal with it. We know about power structures, but I wondered what I could do to help... Art, at a certain point, felt pointless, but I did begin to wonder what role I wanted to play. What service do I want to provide the world?” INTERACTIVE Protest Art & the Corporate Art World “Partly because of the lockdown, things were suddenly more visible. It was like a veil was lifted. There was a heightening of cases of domestic violence, for instance, which we knew about but had to deal with it. We know about power structures, but I wondered what I could do to help... Art, at a certain point, felt pointless, but I did begin to wonder what role I wanted to play. What service do I want to provide the world?” VOL. 1 LIVE AUTHOR AUTHOR AUTHOR Follow our YouTube channel for updates from past or future events. ALSO IN THIS ISSUE: AUTHOR Heading 5 Heading 5 Heading 5 Heading 5 AUTHOR Heading 5 Follow our YouTube channel for updates from past or future events. SHARE Facebook ↗ Twitter ↗ LinkedIn ↗ Live Kathmandu 5th Jun 2021 Live Kathmandu Lahore Dharamshala Panel Art Activism Art Practice Protest Art Mass Protests Feminist Art Practice Feminist In Grief In Solidarity Internationalist Perspective Aurat March Farmers' Movement People's Movement II Jana Andolan II Performance Art Monarchy 2006 Nepalese Revolution Art Institutions Museums Galleries Corporate Power Observance Grounding Corporate Interests in the Art World The Artist as Product COVID-19 Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. As part of In Grief, In Solidarity , artist-activists Ikroop Sandhu, Isma Gul Hasan, and Hit Man Gurung discussed the various contexts in which their visual and performance artistic practice evolved with their activism in India, Pakistan, and Nepal, respectively. Working as part of collective communities and in solidarity with movements was formative for each of them. With editor Kartika Budhwar, they also discussed the “moments” (or lack thereof) that made them turn to art, and how they feel about the institutional and other problematic aspects of the rarefied art world. How does their "art" feel different from journalism and other forms of expression? How has COVID-19 affected their lives and, in turn, their practice? Each of them discussed their complex feelings about the necessity of their work—and how it felt frivolous during lockdown. At the core of the discussion was an ambivalence about the centrality of visual and performance art to activism, but also the idea that art does indeed have a specific power that other ways of engaging with the world don't. More Fiction & Poetry: Date Authors Heading 5 Date Authors Heading 5 Date Authors Heading 5 Date Authors Heading 5 Date Authors Heading 5 Date Authors Heading 5

· INTERACTIVE Live · Los Angeles On “Letter from Your Far-Off Country” “When the student at Jamia Millia Islamia University first uttered ‘Dear Shahid’ right after the film's intertitle, I felt a tightening in my chest. It reminded me of my own days in Mumbai at Prithvi Theatre, where idealism was somehow removed from politics and the marginalization that was occurring. When I first saw the film, I felt like I knew this person.” Follow our YouTube channel for updates from past or future events. Letter from Your Far-Off Country , a short film by Suneil Sanzgiri, was shot on 16mm film stock that expired in 2002—the same year as Gujarat’s state-sponsored anti-Muslim genocide. The film weaves through forms and footage of a dizzying variety, from epistolary family stories, Agha Shahid Ali’s poetry, the theater of Safdar Hashmi, the Muslim women-led Shaheen Bagh movement, and more, creating a mosaic of temporalities that probe the personal and political together within the context of a fraught nation. As part of our event In Grief, In Solidarity we screened the film, which had been screened just prior at the Indian Film Festival of LA (IFFLA). Here, we show the post-screening Q&A that followed the screening, where xenior editor Vamika Sinha talked to Suneil Sanzgiri and Ritesh Mehta, senior programmer at IFFLA, about the film, how Sanzgiri pulled off his very experimental film, what motivated it, and his intellectual and aesthetic preoccupations. In particular, Sanzgiri talks at length about how the weaving of his personal history connected not just with the Shaheen Bagh movement and CAA protests broadly, but with the fact that protests in India included books by Ambedkar and Arundhati Roy alongside those of Angela Davis, while protests in the US played or sang music by Faiz, Agha Shahid Ali, Iqbal Bano at Black Lives Matter protests. These evocations of a global struggle were key to his approach to filmmaking. Mehta discusses his own emotional response to the film, which was deeply connected to his own experience in theatre in Bombay, and what it felt like to process much of what India had undergone recently, as refracted through Sanzgiri's prism. Letter From Your Far-Off Country is available through the Criterion Collection. In March 2024, Sanzgiri discussed his approach to form at our launch event, “Solidarity: Beyond the Disaster-Verse.” SUB-HEAD Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Live Los Angeles Indian Film Festival of LA Film Film-Making Gujarat Pogroms Letter From Your Far-Off Country Gujarat Riots Genocide Jamia Millia Islamia Epistolary Form Shaheen Bagh Movement CAA Protests Ambedkar Arundhati Roy Black Solidarities Internationalist Solidarity Global Agha Shahid Ali Safdar Hashmi Avant-Garde Form Avant-Garde Traditions Communist Tradition Faiz Ahmed Faiz Iqbal Bano Avant-Garde Aesthetics & Protest Farmers' Movement Diasporas Temporality Avant-Garde Film Short Film Personal History Directors Intertext Mikhail Bakhtin Black Lives Matter Prithvi Theatre Diasporic Distance Unspeakable Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. 5th Jun 2021 AUTHOR · AUTHOR Facebook Twitter LinkedIn Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. 1 Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 6 On That Note:

The occupation of Afghanistan demonstrated that climate catastrophe is a crucial feature of imperialism, not a bug. THE VERTICAL Climate Crimes of US Imperalism in Afghanistan The occupation of Afghanistan demonstrated that climate catastrophe is a crucial feature of imperialism, not a bug. VOL. 2 ISSUE 1 OP-ED AUTHOR AUTHOR AUTHOR Aerial satellite map of the city of Kunduz, where a Kunduz Trauma Center operated by Médecins Sans Frontières hospital was bombed by a US Air Force gunship in October 2015. The former site of the MSF Trauma Center colored in yellow can today be seen in satellite images as a vacant plot filled with debris. Courtesy of Kamil Ahsan using ArcGIS. ALSO IN THIS ISSUE: AUTHOR Heading 5 Heading 5 Heading 5 Heading 5 AUTHOR Heading 5 Aerial satellite map of the city of Kunduz, where a Kunduz Trauma Center operated by Médecins Sans Frontières hospital was bombed by a US Air Force gunship in October 2015. The former site of the MSF Trauma Center colored in yellow can today be seen in satellite images as a vacant plot filled with debris. Courtesy of Kamil Ahsan using ArcGIS. SHARE Facebook ↗ Twitter ↗ LinkedIn ↗ Op-Ed Afghanistan 16th Oct 2022 Op-Ed Afghanistan Environmental Disaster Radiation US Imperialism War Crimes Climate Change Geography Urbanization International Law Internationalist Perspective Drug Enforcement Agency DEA Daisy Cutters Munitions Normative Frameworks Structural Frameworks Policy Torture GIS-based technologies Helmand Valley Development Project HDVP Surveillance Regimes Militarism Military Operations Taliban Media United States Memory Nationalism Human Rights Violations Human Rights Hindu Kush Bagram Heroin Hashish Opium Marshall Islands New Mexico Japan Hiroshima & Nagasaki Drone Warfare Predatory Drone Infertility Disease Generational Damage Kunduz Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. EVERY EMPIRE is unique but most empires share many discernible structural features and operational modes. Normative patterns of imperial conduct include transgressing geographic, cultural, political, legal, and other kinds of boundaries while generating new circulations of people, ideas, technologies, and practices. Historically, empires leverage inequalities and, in so doing, tend to commit crimes. In the modern era, Afghanistan has been arguably the primary victim of imperial war crimes. Since 2001, these crimes have been perpetrated by a large number of colluding and competing international actors and a wide assortment of local collaborators and proxies. It is historically rare for an empire to be held accountable for criminal conduct, and it is a bitter irony that empires present themselves as peace-loving and law-giving while imperial history can be read as repeating litanies of unprosecuted criminal conduct. Through information management predicated on censorship, propaganda, and manipulation of individual states and multinational institutions that may or may not constitute legal conduct, empires work hard to immunize themselves against their own criminality. The International Criminal Court indictment of the US and other actors for crimes against humanity in March 2020 was diluted in September 2021 after the Taliban returned to power to now make it practically impossible for the US to be investigated and held to account by the ICC. The ICC was the last and only internationally recognized authority willing to publicly pursue US imperial war crimes against humanity in Afghanistan. US imperial authority was horrifically predicated on perpetual jet bombing, wanton drone assassination, incessant helicopter night raids, routine abductions and extrajudicial killings, and systematic renditions to black sites in the country. All this occurred across a globally dispersed imperial regime of torture predicated on illegal human trafficking and conscious legal obfuscation, through chains of contractors and subcontractors working covertly across national boundaries. Rapidly emerging GIS-based technologies through which US imperial violence against the people of Afghanistan occurred—involving drones most notably—inherently challenged and transgressed established laws regarding war, military occupation, and universal human rights. U.S. Central Command movement across Kabul of a white Toyota Corolla on Aug. 29th, 2021. Mapping, central to U.S. defense companies and military, tracks an individual car. Today, former defense officials at companies like Janes and Quiet Professionals deploy the same data to ostensibly track and protect refugees. (CENTCOM/via Military Times) Here I highlight the environmental impact of the US-led international so-called “War on Terror” in Afghanistan and call for accountability and remedial action from the US and its allies for criminal negligence of the uniquely precious and life-sustaining natural resource base of the country. The US engagement of Afghanistan’s natural resources began during the Cold War in the context of the Helmand Valley Development Project involving large dams and related canals, roads, airports, and new bureaucracies and administrators organized to provide a perennial supply of water to new agricultural lands where nomads were to settle and produce cash crop exports such as cotton in the south of the country. The HVDP not only failed due to a lack of basic initial soil and groundwater surveys, but the over-salinated soil became usable for little else besides poppies that transformed Afghanistan into the world’s largest exporter of hashish, opium, and heroin in the 1980s. During this decade while the CIA was covertly funding and arming the Mujahideen, the US Drug Enforcement Agency facilitated the processing and global marketing of Afghanistan’s bountiful opiate harvests. One result of the extensive CIA financial and military provisioning of the Afghan mujahideen was the extensive landmining of mountain passes and valley pasturelands between market settings and strategic locations in eastern Afghanistan especially. The ICC was the last and only internationally recognized authority willing to publicly pursue US imperial war crimes against humanity in Afghanistan. Beginning in October 2001, a twenty-year monsoon rain of US bombs fell on Afghanistan. Older well-tested munitions such as daisy cutter bombs designed to destroy forests in Viet Nam were used to decimate gardens, orchards, and farms in Afghanistan, while innovative new bunker buster bombs devastated underground water channels, overland canals and dams, and mountainous habitats. This vengeful imperial desire to obliterate single individuals from Tora Bora in December 2001 to the “Mother of All Bombs” in April 2017, to the ‘final official’ drone bombing of an innocent family in August 2021, and the hundreds of thousands of US bombs throughout this imperial occupation, have done irreparable harm by depositing depleted uranium into the soil and groundwater to such an extent that Afghanistan now joins Fallujah, Iraq, the Marshall Islands, New Mexico, Hiroshima and Nagasaki as locations where US munitions have left radiation poisoning and high concentrations of eternally disturbing birth defects among humans and animals in their wake. Deadly chemicals have long blighted the waters and wider ecosystems surrounding many hundreds of military bases in the US. Similarly, the habitats surrounding what were hundreds of military bases in Afghanistan have been forever tainted by deadly toxins, but this environmental assault is amplified seemingly irremediably by the noxious burn pits used by these bases to incinerate everything from paper to human waste to military equipment including full vehicles. These bases were found throughout Afghanistan, from mountain hamlets in the north to the ever-expanding Shindand base in the southwest near the Iranian border to Bagram in the lushly watered northern third of the Kabul valley. During the American imperium, Bagram was a city of its own, defined by a perpetually flaming and smoldering football field-sized burn pit. The toxicity emanating from these burn pits circulated near and far from the bases, resulting in inescapable disease and infertility across the biological spectrum of organisms from insects to fish, crops, plants, trees, animals, birds, and humans. Afghanistan now joins Fallujah, Iraq, the Marshall Islands, New Mexico, Hiroshima, and Nagasaki as locations where US munitions have left radiation poisoning and high concentrations of eternally disturbing birth defects among humans and animals in their wake. The US military operates primarily on fossil fuels and, as a result, carries one of the largest carbon footprints in the world. Nowhere is the air pollution resulting from military aircraft and diesel-fueled wheeled vehicles more evident than in Kabul, which regressed during the US imperial presence in the country from near-pristine air quality in 2001 to having among the world’s worst air pollution during the US occupation. The hyper-urbanization of Kabul from a city of roughly half a million inhabitants in 2001 to more than five million today has occurred without a sanitation system, while unregulated private wells have depleted the city’s water supply and are also being undermined by climate change-induced deglaciation of the Hindu Kush. From lack of water to radiated water, from toxic air to poisoned soil, the fully unrestrained US imperial military conduct in Afghanistan has resulted in an environmental catastrophe that requires accountability and restitution from all international powers that have contributed to what is now genocidal famine and environmental ruin, much of which did not occur within the boundaries of international law and ethical conduct. ∎ More Fiction & Poetry: Date Authors Heading 5 Date Authors Heading 5 Date Authors Heading 5 Date Authors Heading 5 Date Authors Heading 5 Date Authors Heading 5

Why have India’s ultranationalist aspirations made Lakshadweep the unlikely locus of its tourist aspirations and exacerbated tensions with the Maldives? FEATURES The Lakshadweep Gambit Why have India’s ultranationalist aspirations made Lakshadweep the unlikely locus of its tourist aspirations and exacerbated tensions with the Maldives? Rejimon Kuttapan Kerala: On 4 January, pictures of Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi snorkeling in Lakshadweep hit social media. The pictures were accompanied by his invitation “for those who wish to embrace the adventurer in them, Lakshadweep has to be on your list,” and incited a cascade of unanticipated events in the Indian archipelago of 36 islands lying to the west of India’s southwestern coast, in the Laccadive Sea between the Arabian Sea to and the Bay of Bengal. The photos triggered a surge in Google searches unseen in 20 years. Maldivian ministers in Malé, a mere 900 kilometres southwest of Lakshadweep, were alarmed. A few vented against Modi on social media. Hassan Zihan, Mariyam Shiuna, and Malsha Shareef, all deputy ministers, were suspended for the social media posts they made against Modi. Maldivian ministers have been sacked for lesser blunders, however, the president has chosen to keep them on government payroll following a temporary suspension. At a time when the Israeli-Palestinian conflict had escalated to levels previously unseen following the Hamas-led terror attacks in October 2023 and in the wider context of Israeli settler violence in the West Bank, Shiuna pointed out India’s ties with Israel. Other public officials joined in and said that Modi’s visit to Lakshadweep was aimed at undermining Maldives’ luxury tourism industry, which prides itself on its secluded pristine beaches. Indian travel and tourism agencies and celebrities added fuel to the controversy by using hashtags #MaldivesOut and #ExploreIndianIslands . In January, Maldivian President Mohamed Muizzu broke with tradition and prioritized visits to Turkey and China, flouting India's “ first-visit ” protocol. He flew to China, signed 20 deals , secured a massive 1000 crore aid package, and upon his return, urged India to withdraw its 80-member army contingent stationed in the Maldives by 15 March. The first well-known Indian presence in the Maldives was in response to the 1988 coup, under Operation Cactus , following a request from then-president Maumoon Abdul Gayoom, which protected the Maldives from Sri Lankan militants. There were 77 Indian officers stationed in Maldives since 2010 when the Indian government gifted two helicopters and a Dornier aircraft. Recent news suggests the first batch of Indian troops, some 25 soldiers, have already left the island country. In short, Modi’s Lakshadweep pictures created something of a diplomatic crisis that could significantly reshape Indian and Maldivian relations. Muizzu’s moves while in power have signalled a subtle but important shift in Maldivian foreign policy, with China gaining significant ground and India's traditional influence facing a challenge. But as diplomatic tensions between India and the Maldives have simmered, Muizzu’s deals with China, aimed at turbocharging tourism through large-scale construction projects and marketing to new countries, have raised crucial questions about the fragile archipelago’s environmental sustainability. Lakshadweep is similarly threatened—and if Modi’s agenda is realized, also poses a threat to the tourism sector pivotal to the Maldivian economy. Swallowed By the Ocean While Maldives-China 20-point MoU cooperation in disaster management and green and low-carbon sounds positive, deepening blue economy cooperation and accelerating the Belt and Road initiative raises serious concerns for the low-lying island country. In late 2021, highlighting the Maldives’ extreme environmental vulnerability, Aminath Shauna, the former environment and climate change minister noted, in an interview with the International Monetary Fund (IMF), that a staggering 80% of the country's islands sit less than a meter above sea level, over 90 percent of the islands report flooding annually, 97 percent are reporting shoreline erosion. “Fifty percent of all our housing structures are within just 100 meters of the coastline. So most really cannot withstand tidal floods, let alone tsunamis. Really, everything is at stake,” she had said. In 2008, concerned about the rising sea levels threatening the Maldives, then-President Mohamed Nasheed proposed relocation to neighbouring countries. However, in comparison, the current president’s plans differ greatly. He envisions reclaiming land, building elevated islands, and fortifying them. A report from the Economic Society of New Delhi-based Shri Ram College of Commerce reveals how extensive extraction for development disrupts beaches, harming marine life, compromising conservation for commerce, fuelling rapid biodiversity loss, around 21 percent of daily waste comes from tourists, polluting water and endangering health and untreated sewage and depletion threaten freshwater resources. But tourism continues to be integral to the Maldives economy, with growth in the sector in 2022 exceeding pre-pandemic levels with a remarkable 13.9% growth, outpacing even optimistic forecasts, fuelled by pent-up demand from both European and Asian tourists. Indeed, tourist arrivals and revenue in the Maldives have rebounded sharply, with total receipts soaring by 28% from $3.5 billion in 2021 to an estimated $4.5 billion in 2022. Fascinatingly, leading the charge was the recent upsurge in Indian travellers , some of them prominent Bollywood stars, with 209,198 visiting the island paradise in 2023. Close behind were 209,146 Russian visitors, followed by 187,118 Chinese tourists ranking third. According to the Maldives Monetary Authority, fuelled by a booming tourism sector, Maldives’ total government revenue surged 38 percent to USD 1.82 billion in 2022, outpacing both tax and non-tax revenue hikes. Financial figures show strong tourism recovery in the Maldives, raising concerns about its impact on the region's fragile ecosystem. However, the nation's latest partnerships, especially with China, may offer opportunities for balancing economic growth with environmental protection. Chalo Lakshadweep Can India reasonably pitch in Lakshadweep as a competitor for Maldives? While the idea of Lakshadweep as a competitor to the Maldives might be tempting, environmental concerns raise serious doubts about its feasibility. Lakshadweep’s environmental fragility, limited infrastructure, and local concerns cannot be ignored. A fresh study paints a grim picture for the Lakshadweep Islands, revealing that all of them are facing significant threats from rising sea levels, regardless of future emission scenarios. This marks the first time climate models have been used to assess potential inundation across the archipelago. The study predicts drastic land loss for smaller islands like Chetlat and Amini, with 60 to 70 percent and 70 to 80 percent of their shorelines vanishing under rising waters. Even larger islands like Minicoy and Kavaratti, including the capital, are not spared, facing potential land loss along 60 percent of their coastlines. The only relatively safe haven appears to be Androth Island, though it too will be impacted. Minicoy , the second largest and southernmost island in Lakshadweep, shares a unique historical connection with the Maldives. Known locally as “Maliku” in the Maldivian-Minicoy language, Minicoy was separated from the Maldives in 1752 by the Ali Rajas of Malabar (Kerala) and remained distinct ever since. The remaining northern islands of Lakshadweep, the Amindivi group, fell under British control much earlier in 1799, following their victory over Tipu Sultan of Mysore (who ruled them from 1787). The Laccadive Islands (southern group) and Minicoy were annexed to the British Empire later, with the suzerainty of Minicoy transferring to the British Indian Empire in 1875. However, the Arakkal House held a trade monopoly over these islands until 1905, when they were fully surrendered to the British. When India gained independence in 1947, the Union Jack continued to fly over the Minicoy lighthouse until 1956, when a representative of the Queen lowered it, marking Minicoy's official integration into the Indian Union. Lakshadweep’s current infrastructure caters to its 60,000 residents and a limited tourist influx. In 2021, the islands welcomed 13,500 tourists, a number that jumped to 22,800 in 2022. While this growth is encouraging, it also strains existing resources. There is only one airline operating flights to Lakshadweep and six ships ferrying people, and any Indian, who is not a native of Lakshadweep, shall have to obtain an entry permit . The reason for this, as per the Lakshadweep Tourism website, is to protect the Indigenous peoples residing there. Following a Supreme Court order in the 2012 case of M/s Sea Shell Beach Resorts v. Union Territory of Lakshadweep and Others, an expert committee led by Justice R.V. Raveendran evaluated the Integrated Island Management Plan (IIMP) for Lakshadweep. The IIMP is a crucial document that outlines the vision and strategies for sustainable development in Lakshadweep. The Supreme Court's order emphasized the need for balancing development with environmental protection in the islands. The Raveendran Committee's report made several recommendations, including, strict adherence to environmental laws and regulations, prioritization of sustainable tourism and eco-friendly practices, protection of the islands' fragile ecosystems and cultural heritage. Having said that, recently, the Lakshadweep administration planned to develop eco-tourism projects in 11 islands in public-private partnerships. NITI Aayog, the Indian government’s policy body, had sought proposals from consultants. The administration of the union territory identified the islands of Bangaram, Thinnakara, Pareli-II, Pareli- III, Chariyam, Kalpitti, Tilakkam, Kavaratti, Perumal par, Viringili island, and Minicoy. Additionally, branded hotels are coming up , while water villas are also on the horizon. However, the one and only parliamentarian from Lakshadweep has already raised his concern over tourism development projects. Talking to the media , he said the “Chalo Lakshadweep” call may not even get off the ground given multiple constraints, including the lack of direct flights and the minuscule number—150—of hotel rooms. “Even if it does, the tourist inflow has to be controlled in view of the fragile ecology of the island that has been propped up by a rulebook that lays down the number of tourists the islands can contain each day,” Mohammad Faizal, the parliamentarian from Lakshadweep, told media. Faizal cited Justice R.V. Raveendran’s suggestions to protect the island. The media quoted him, adding that the island is looking for high-end controlled tourism. Meanwhile, in a phone conversation with SAAG from Androth, the largest island in Lakshadweep, Mohammed Althaf Hussain, a former Panchayath president, discussed the potential benefits and drawbacks of increased tourism focus in the islands. Hussain noted that “pumping more money into tourism development can create job opportunities, help locals diversify their income, boost earnings, and popularize local culture.” However, he also acknowledged environmental concerns, stating, “Like any other place, our islands face environmental challenges due to climate change, including waste management woes.” He concluded by expressing optimism that “with scientific solutions, we can overcome these challenges.” Dr Naveen Namboothri, Trustee and Programme Head at Dakshin Foundation, a non-profit organization dedicated to environmental conservation and sustainable development, shared a note prepared by Lakshadweep Research Collective. This note responds to the draft development plan for the island proposed by the Indian government. The note shared by Naveen, who is part of Lakshadweep Research Collective, states that, the then development plan poses a dangerous threat to Lakshadweep's ecology, community, and culture. The note adds that the plan ignores Lakshadweep's unique ecology and climate vulnerabilities, proposing unsustainable development that endangers reefs and livelihoods. “It grants authorities power to take land and resources, jeopardizing traditional practices and local economies. Proposes a narrow, “fast-track” approach focused on infrastructure and exploitation, neglecting social well-being and ecological integrity,” the note adds. On 1 February, while presenting the interim budget, Indian Finance Minister Nirmala Sitaram, named Lakshadweep. “To address the emerging fervour for domestic tourism, projects for port connectivity, tourism infrastructure, and amenities will be taken up on our islands, including Lakshadweep,” she said . And there are reports that India has proposed a ₹3,600-crore infrastructure upgrade plan for the Lakshadweep islands, aiming to transform them into a tourist hub. Back in 2021, the Lakshadweep administrator was accused of introducing policies that could harm the environment and cultural heritage of the islands. The controversial proposals included a beef ban and restrictions on those contesting in local elections. At the time, India’s opposition leader Rahul Gandhi also raised his concerns. The tensions between India and the Maldives can be attributed to hypernationalism displayed by both state and non-state actors. While Maldivian deputy ministers criticized Prime Minister Modi, Indian social media users fueled the issue with their own brand of hypernationalism and unrealistic expectations regarding Lakshadweep. For India, boycotting the Maldives may well have negative political consequences. Meanwhile, losing the trust of a long-standing strategic partner whose culture is intertwined with its own would be a major detriment for the Maldives. Fueled by budget allocations and amplified by media buzz, India seems intent on making a "Maldives™" out of Lakshadweep, propelling ultra-nationalist sentiments in both countries. This move suggests that India is far from closing the chapter on instigating a previously non-existent tourism rivalry between Lakshadweep and the Maldives. ∎ Kerala: On 4 January, pictures of Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi snorkeling in Lakshadweep hit social media. The pictures were accompanied by his invitation “for those who wish to embrace the adventurer in them, Lakshadweep has to be on your list,” and incited a cascade of unanticipated events in the Indian archipelago of 36 islands lying to the west of India’s southwestern coast, in the Laccadive Sea between the Arabian Sea to and the Bay of Bengal. The photos triggered a surge in Google searches unseen in 20 years. Maldivian ministers in Malé, a mere 900 kilometres southwest of Lakshadweep, were alarmed. A few vented against Modi on social media. Hassan Zihan, Mariyam Shiuna, and Malsha Shareef, all deputy ministers, were suspended for the social media posts they made against Modi. Maldivian ministers have been sacked for lesser blunders, however, the president has chosen to keep them on government payroll following a temporary suspension. At a time when the Israeli-Palestinian conflict had escalated to levels previously unseen following the Hamas-led terror attacks in October 2023 and in the wider context of Israeli settler violence in the West Bank, Shiuna pointed out India’s ties with Israel. Other public officials joined in and said that Modi’s visit to Lakshadweep was aimed at undermining Maldives’ luxury tourism industry, which prides itself on its secluded pristine beaches. Indian travel and tourism agencies and celebrities added fuel to the controversy by using hashtags #MaldivesOut and #ExploreIndianIslands. In January, Maldivian President Mohamed Muizzu broke with tradition and prioritized visits to Turkey and China, flouting India's “ first-visit ” protocol. He flew to China, signed 20 deals , secured a massive 1000 crore aid package, and upon his return, urged India to withdraw its 80-member army contingent stationed in the Maldives by 15 March. The first well-known Indian presence in the Maldives was in response to the 1988 coup, under Operation Cactus , following a request from then-president Maumoon Abdul Gayoom, which protected the Maldives from Sri Lankan militants. There were 77 Indian officers stationed in Maldives since 2010 when the Indian government gifted two helicopters and a Dornier aircraft. Recent news suggests the first batch of Indian troops, some 25 soldiers, have already left the island country. In short, Modi’s Lakshadweep pictures created something of a diplomatic crisis that could significantly reshape Indian and Maldivian relations. Muizzu’s moves while in power have signalled a subtle but important shift in Maldivian foreign policy, with China gaining significant ground and India's traditional influence facing a challenge. But as diplomatic tensions between India and the Maldives have simmered, Muizzu’s deals with China, aimed at turbocharging tourism through large-scale construction projects and marketing to new countries, have raised crucial questions about the fragile archipelago’s environmental sustainability. Lakshadweep is similarly threatened—and if Modi’s agenda is realized, also poses a threat to the tourism sector pivotal to the Maldivian economy. Swallowed By the Ocean While Maldives-China 20-point MoU cooperation in disaster management and green and low-carbon sounds positive, deepening blue economy cooperation and accelerating the Belt and Road initiative raises serious concerns for the low-lying island country. In late 2021, highlighting the Maldives’ extreme environmental vulnerability, Aminath Shauna, the former environment and climate change minister noted, in an interview with the International Monetary Fund (IMF), that a staggering 80% of the country's islands sit less than a meter above sea level, over 90 percent of the islands report flooding annually, 97 percent are reporting shoreline erosion. “Fifty percent of all our housing structures are within just 100 meters of the coastline. So most really cannot withstand tidal floods, let alone tsunamis. Really, everything is at stake,” she had said. In 2008, concerned about the rising sea levels threatening the Maldives, then-President Mohamed Nasheed proposed relocation to neighbouring countries. However, in comparison, the current president’s plans differ greatly. He envisions reclaiming land, building elevated islands, and fortifying them. A report from the Economic Society of New Delhi-based Shri Ram College of Commerce reveals how extensive extraction for development disrupts beaches, harming marine life, compromising conservation for commerce, fuelling rapid biodiversity loss, around 21 percent of daily waste comes from tourists, polluting water and endangering health and untreated sewage and depletion threaten freshwater resources. But tourism continues to be integral to the Maldives economy, with growth in the sector in 2022 exceeding pre-pandemic levels with a remarkable 13.9% growth, outpacing even optimistic forecasts, fuelled by pent-up demand from both European and Asian tourists. Indeed, tourist arrivals and revenue in the Maldives have rebounded sharply, with total receipts soaring by 28% from $3.5 billion in 2021 to an estimated $4.5 billion in 2022. Fascinatingly, leading the charge was the recent upsurge in Indian travellers , some of them prominent Bollywood stars, with 209,198 visiting the island paradise in 2023. Close behind were 209,146 Russian visitors, followed by 187,118 Chinese tourists ranking third. According to the Maldives Monetary Authority, fuelled by a booming tourism sector, Maldives’ total government revenue surged 38 percent to USD 1.82 billion in 2022, outpacing both tax and non-tax revenue hikes. Financial figures show strong tourism recovery in the Maldives, raising concerns about its impact on the region's fragile ecosystem. However, the nation's latest partnerships, especially with China, may offer opportunities for balancing economic growth with environmental protection. Chalo Lakshadweep Can India reasonably pitch in Lakshadweep as a competitor for Maldives? While the idea of Lakshadweep as a competitor to the Maldives might be tempting, environmental concerns raise serious doubts about its feasibility. Lakshadweep’s environmental fragility, limited infrastructure, and local concerns cannot be ignored. A fresh study paints a grim picture for the Lakshadweep Islands, revealing that all of them are facing significant threats from rising sea levels, regardless of future emission scenarios. This marks the first time climate models have been used to assess potential inundation across the archipelago. The study predicts drastic land loss for smaller islands like Chetlat and Amini, with 60 to 70 percent and 70 to 80 percent of their shorelines vanishing under rising waters. Even larger islands like Minicoy and Kavaratti, including the capital, are not spared, facing potential land loss along 60 percent of their coastlines. The only relatively safe haven appears to be Androth Island, though it too will be impacted. Minicoy , the second largest and southernmost island in Lakshadweep, shares a unique historical connection with the Maldives. Known locally as “Maliku” in the Maldivian-Minicoy language, Minicoy was separated from the Maldives in 1752 by the Ali Rajas of Malabar (Kerala) and remained distinct ever since. The remaining northern islands of Lakshadweep, the Amindivi group, fell under British control much earlier in 1799, following their victory over Tipu Sultan of Mysore (who ruled them from 1787). The Laccadive Islands (southern group) and Minicoy were annexed to the British Empire later, with the suzerainty of Minicoy transferring to the British Indian Empire in 1875. However, the Arakkal House held a trade monopoly over these islands until 1905, when they were fully surrendered to the British. When India gained independence in 1947, the Union Jack continued to fly over the Minicoy lighthouse until 1956, when a representative of the Queen lowered it, marking Minicoy's official integration into the Indian Union. Lakshadweep’s current infrastructure caters to its 60,000 residents and a limited tourist influx. In 2021, the islands welcomed 13,500 tourists, a number that jumped to 22,800 in 2022. While this growth is encouraging, it also strains existing resources. There is only one airline operating flights to Lakshadweep and six ships ferrying people, and any Indian, who is not a native of Lakshadweep, shall have to obtain an entry permit . The reason for this, as per the Lakshadweep Tourism website, is to protect the Indigenous peoples residing there. Following a Supreme Court order in the 2012 case of M/s Sea Shell Beach Resorts v. Union Territory of Lakshadweep and Others, an expert committee led by Justice R.V. Raveendran evaluated the Integrated Island Management Plan (IIMP) for Lakshadweep. The IIMP is a crucial document that outlines the vision and strategies for sustainable development in Lakshadweep. The Supreme Court's order emphasized the need for balancing development with environmental protection in the islands. The Raveendran Committee's report made several recommendations, including, strict adherence to environmental laws and regulations, prioritization of sustainable tourism and eco-friendly practices, protection of the islands' fragile ecosystems and cultural heritage. Having said that, recently, the Lakshadweep administration planned to develop eco-tourism projects in 11 islands in public-private partnerships. NITI Aayog, the Indian government’s policy body, had sought proposals from consultants. The administration of the union territory identified the islands of Bangaram, Thinnakara, Pareli-II, Pareli- III, Chariyam, Kalpitti, Tilakkam, Kavaratti, Perumal par, Viringili island, and Minicoy. Additionally, branded hotels are coming up , while water villas are also on the horizon. However, the one and only parliamentarian from Lakshadweep has already raised his concern over tourism development projects. Talking to the media , he said the “Chalo Lakshadweep” call may not even get off the ground given multiple constraints, including the lack of direct flights and the minuscule number—150—of hotel rooms. “Even if it does, the tourist inflow has to be controlled in view of the fragile ecology of the island that has been propped up by a rulebook that lays down the number of tourists the islands can contain each day,” Mohammad Faizal, the parliamentarian from Lakshadweep, told media. Faizal cited Justice R.V. Raveendran’s suggestions to protect the island. The media quoted him, adding that the island is looking for high-end controlled tourism. Meanwhile, in a phone conversation with SAAG from Androth, the largest island in Lakshadweep, Mohammed Althaf Hussain, a former Panchayath president, discussed the potential benefits and drawbacks of increased tourism focus in the islands. Hussain noted that “pumping more money into tourism development can create job opportunities, help locals diversify their income, boost earnings, and popularize local culture.” However, he also acknowledged environmental concerns, stating, “Like any other place, our islands face environmental challenges due to climate change, including waste management woes.” He concluded by expressing optimism that “with scientific solutions, we can overcome these challenges.” Dr Naveen Namboothri, Trustee and Programme Head at Dakshin Foundation, a non-profit organization dedicated to environmental conservation and sustainable development, shared a note prepared by Lakshadweep Research Collective. This note responds to the draft development plan for the island proposed by the Indian government. The note shared by Naveen, who is part of Lakshadweep Research Collective, states that, the then development plan poses a dangerous threat to Lakshadweep's ecology, community, and culture. The note adds that the plan ignores Lakshadweep's unique ecology and climate vulnerabilities, proposing unsustainable development that endangers reefs and livelihoods. “It grants authorities power to take land and resources, jeopardizing traditional practices and local economies. Proposes a narrow, “fast-track” approach focused on infrastructure and exploitation, neglecting social well-being and ecological integrity,” the note adds. On 1 February, while presenting the interim budget, Indian Finance Minister Nirmala Sitaram, named Lakshadweep. “To address the emerging fervour for domestic tourism, projects for port connectivity, tourism infrastructure, and amenities will be taken up on our islands, including Lakshadweep,” she said . And there are reports that India has proposed a ₹3,600-crore infrastructure upgrade plan for the Lakshadweep islands, aiming to transform them into a tourist hub. Back in 2021, the Lakshadweep administrator was accused of introducing policies that could harm the environment and cultural heritage of the islands. The controversial proposals included a beef ban and restrictions on those contesting in local elections. At the time, India’s opposition leader Rahul Gandhi also raised his concerns. The tensions between India and the Maldives can be attributed to hypernationalism displayed by both state and non-state actors. While Maldivian deputy ministers criticized Prime Minister Modi, Indian social media users fueled the issue with their own brand of hypernationalism and unrealistic expectations regarding Lakshadweep. For India, boycotting the Maldives may well have negative political consequences. Meanwhile, losing the trust of a long-standing strategic partner whose culture is intertwined with its own would be a major detriment for the Maldives. Fueled by budget allocations and amplified by media buzz, India seems intent on making a "Maldives™" out of Lakshadweep, propelling ultra-nationalist sentiments in both countries. This move suggests that India is far from closing the chapter on instigating a previously non-existent tourism rivalry between Lakshadweep and the Maldives. ∎ SUB-HEAD ALSO IN THIS ISSUE: Kareen Adam · Nazish Chunara A Dhivehi Artists Showcase Shebani Rao A Freelancer's Guide to Decision-Making Artwork courtesy of N.K.P Muthukoya. SHARE Facebook Twitter LinkedIn Reportage Lakshadweep Maldives India Nationalism China Foreign Policy Environment Climate Change Islands Lakshadweep archipelago Operation Cactus Mohamed Muizzu Modi Minicoy Tourism Belt and Road Initiative Luxury Tourism Mohamed Nasheed IMF Maldives Monetary Authority Sea Shell Beach Resorts Integrated Island Management Plan Laccadive Maliku Kavaratti Androth Chalo Lakshadweep Amindivi Eco-tourism Turkey Maumoon Abdul Gayoom Infrastructure Diplomatic Relations Malé Maldivian Economy Environmental Disaster REJIMON KUTTAPPAN is a Kerala-based independent journalist, migrant rights researcher, and author of Undocumented: Stories of Indian Migrants in the Arab Gulf (Penguin India, 2021). 29 Mar 2024 Reportage Lakshadweep 29th Mar 2024 Khabristan Uzair Rizvi 16th Aug The Artisan Labor Crisis of Ladakh Mir Seeneen 3rd May Battles and Banishments: Gender & Heroin Addiction in Maldives A. R. & R. A. 28th Feb Chats Ep. 11 · On Maldives' Transitional Justice Act Mushfiq Mohamed 7th Jul A Dhivehi Artists Showcase Kareen Adam · Nazish Chunara 5th Jun On That Note:

· FICTION & POETRY Poetry · Myanmar In the Yoma Foothills That’s how I began my flight; full of doubt. "Sleeping Mangroves" by Isma Gul Hasan. Mixed media (2021). The rapidly disappearing mangroves of Karachi viewed at night around Kemari. IT WAS one of those foggy mornings. As if they were offering a wreath to a squad of soldiers off to war, a flock of birds sent me off with chirrups. That’s how I began my flight— full of doubt. My beloved parents, brothers and sisters, relatives from near and far, childhood friends who stay friends to this day, and above all, my girlfriend, my heart of hearts, for each of the teardrops they shed I was responsible. Now that I’d left them my soul got restless, my spirit drained of vigour I wept for hours. The tall trees in the jungle witnessed my creaky-creaky cries. I thanked them all, those who pushed me onto a raft upstream to drown, those who abased themselves before me, and those who, possessed with greed, lifted me higher so they could shove me off a cliff, and those who loved me back, I thanked them all. I thanked God for keeping me safe in the wilderness. He heard my prayers those nights and days in the Yoma foothills. ∎ This poem appeared in Picking Off New Shoots Will Not Stop the Spring: Witness Poems and Essays from Burma/Myanmar 1988-2021 , edited by Ko Ko Thett and Brian Haman, and published by Gaudy Boy in North America, Balestier Press in the UK, and Ethos Books in Singapore. SUB-HEAD Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Poetry Myanmar Military Coup Dissident Writers Revolution Pogroms Tatmadaw Rohingya Rohingya Refugee Crisis Trauma Picking Off New Shoots Will Not Stop the Spring Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. You can update and reuse text themes. 26th Feb 2023 AUTHOR · AUTHOR Facebook Twitter LinkedIn Add paragraph text. Click “Edit Text” to customize this theme across your site. 1 Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 5 Heading 6 Heading 6 Heading 6 On That Note:

Kashmiri poet Huzaifa Pandit in conversation with Nazish Chunara. COMMUNITY The Craft of Writing in Occupied Kashmir Kashmiri poet Huzaifa Pandit in conversation with Nazish Chunara. Huzaifa Pandit By abolishing Urdu, they are removing its historical significance... By pushing for the extinction of a language, you're pushing the extinction of a history and the sentiments associated with that history. Because in life the present is a function of the past. And so, by altering that past, they're hoping to alter the present altogether beyond the cognition. RECOMMENDED: Green is the Colour of Memory (Hawakal Publishers, 2018) by Huzaifa Pandit. By abolishing Urdu, they are removing its historical significance... By pushing for the extinction of a language, you're pushing the extinction of a history and the sentiments associated with that history. Because in life the present is a function of the past. And so, by altering that past, they're hoping to alter the present altogether beyond the cognition. RECOMMENDED: Green is the Colour of Memory (Hawakal Publishers, 2018) by Huzaifa Pandit. SUB-HEAD ALSO IN THIS ISSUE: Kareen Adam · Nazish Chunara A Dhivehi Artists Showcase Shebani Rao A Freelancer's Guide to Decision-Making Watch the interview on YouTube or IGTV. SHARE Facebook Twitter LinkedIn Interview Kashmiri Poetics Historicity Poetic Form Poetry Kashmiri Struggle Kashmir Faiz Ahmed Faiz Agha Shahid Ali Mahmoud Darwish PTSD Trauma Mass Protests Memory Language Diversity Urdu Resistance Poetry Metaphor Metaphoricity Raj Rao Varavara Rao Journaling Occupation Pune University Language Language Politics Hindutva Despair Defiance HUZAIFA PANDIT is the author of Green is the Colour of Memory which won the first edition of Rhythm Divine Poets Chapbook Contest 2017 . He is the winner of several poetry contests like Glass House Poetry Competition and Bound Poetry Contest. Born and raised in Kashmir, his poems alternate between despair, defiance, resistance and compliance as they seek to make sense of a world where his identity is outlawed. He holds a Ph.D from the University of Kashmir on the poetics of resistance with Faiz Ahmed Faiz, Agha Shahid Ali and Mahmoud Darwish. His poems, translations, interviews, essays and papers have been published in various journals like Indian Literature, PaperCuts, Life and Legends, Jaggery Lit, JLA India, Punch and Noble/Gas Qtrly . 24 Jan 2021 Interview Kashmiri Poetics 24th Jan 2021 Into the Sea Mai Ishizawa · Polly Barton 27th Apr The Mind is a Theater of War Ahsan Butt · Sadieh Rifai 10th Feb مادری زبانیں Sabika Abbas 18th Oct Kashmiri ProgRock and Experimentation as Privilege Zeeshaan Nabi 21st Dec Bengali Nationalism & the Chittagong Hill Tracts Kabita Chakma 9th Dec On That Note:

Arshia Haq describes Discostan as a “diasporic discotheque which imagines past, present and future soundscapes from Beirut to Bangkok via Bombay.” The music is often inspired by the performative traditions of radical, avant-garde artists and musicians, a practice that defines Discostan's community engagement model. INTERACTIVE A Set by Discostan Arshia Haq describes Discostan as a “diasporic discotheque which imagines past, present and future soundscapes from Beirut to Bangkok via Bombay.” The music is often inspired by the performative traditions of radical, avant-garde artists and musicians, a practice that defines Discostan's community engagement model. Arshia Fatima Haq · Prithi Khalique Just dance, now. At the end of our June 2021 online live event—a six-hour-long series of panels, showcases, readings, and performances—a “ diasporic discotheque which imagines past, present and future soundscapes from Beirut to Bangkok via Bombay ”. Founded by Arshia Fatima Haq, Discostan is heavily invested in community engagement and social practice. For In Grief, In Solidarity , Haq curated a DJ set for us to let loose. SAAG Visual Designer Prithi Khalique produced the visuals, using recurring motifs from our event videos. Just dance, now. At the end of our June 2021 online live event—a six-hour-long series of panels, showcases, readings, and performances—a “ diasporic discotheque which imagines past, present and future soundscapes from Beirut to Bangkok via Bombay ”. Founded by Arshia Fatima Haq, Discostan is heavily invested in community engagement and social practice. For In Grief, In Solidarity , Haq curated a DJ set for us to let loose. SAAG Visual Designer Prithi Khalique produced the visuals, using recurring motifs from our event videos. SUB-HEAD ALSO IN THIS ISSUE: Kareen Adam · Nazish Chunara A Dhivehi Artists Showcase Shebani Rao A Freelancer's Guide to Decision-Making Follow our YouTube channel for updates from past or future events. SHARE Facebook Twitter LinkedIn Live Global Music DJ Diasporic Discotheque Community Building Social Practice Art Activism Internationalist Solidarity In Grief In Solidarity Visual Design ARSHIA FATIMA HAQ works in film, visual art, performance, and sound. She is the founder of Discostan, a collaborative decolonial project and record label that works with cultural production from South and West Asia and North Africa. Her work has been featured at MoMA in New York, the Station Museum of Contemporary Art, the Broad Museum, LACE, the Toronto International Film Festival, Centre Pompidou, and the Pacific Film Archive. She is currently based in Lοs Αngeles. PRITHI KHALIQUE is a visual designer and animator based in Dhaka and Providence. 5 Jun 2021 Live Global 5th Jun 2021 The Aahvaan Project · Performance Vedi Sinha 5th Jun Natasha Noorani's Retro Aesthetic Natasha Noorani 5th Jun Protest Art & the Corporate Art World Hit Man Gurung · Isma Gul Hasan · Ikroop Sandhu 5th Jun On “Letter from Your Far-Off Country” Suneil Sanzgiri · Ritesh Mehta 5th Jun FLUX · A Celebratory Set by DJ Kiran Darakshan Raja 5th Dec On That Note:

"Our priority is to meet the needs of people on this planet. Not just workers. Not workers at all." A multimedia short using video archival footage, this faux-advertisement is equal parts a history of advertising & the legacy of fossil fuel companies’ manipulation and a disturbing, singular dystopia from one aesthete's point of view. BOOKS & ARTS It's Only Human "Our priority is to meet the needs of people on this planet. Not just workers. Not workers at all." A multimedia short using video archival footage, this faux-advertisement is equal parts a history of advertising & the legacy of fossil fuel companies’ manipulation and a disturbing, singular dystopia from one aesthete's point of view. Furqan Jawed Like having the imagination to envision oblivion. And make it reality. Special Thanks to: Varshini Prakash Narration by: Jessica Flemming EDITOR'S NOTE: This multimedia piece, by graphic designer and artist Furqan Jawed, is the result of a collaborative effort, initially conceptualized as a story about the history of advertising & fossil fuel companies’ manipulation of the public across the world. It took place over a number of months, supplemented by reminiscences and stream-of-consciousness ideas by Varshini Prakash, co-founder and Executive Director of the Sunrise Movement, as well as exchange with editors Vishakha Darbha & Kamil Ahsan. Furqan plumbed the archives of advertising across a number of decades in India and the United States. The product was, at the time, an unanticipated, serendipitous, and surprising product of an inquisitive but seemingly-directionless collaboration. Like having the imagination to envision oblivion. And make it reality. Special Thanks to: Varshini Prakash Narration by: Jessica Flemming EDITOR'S NOTE: This multimedia piece, by graphic designer and artist Furqan Jawed, is the result of a collaborative effort, initially conceptualized as a story about the history of advertising & fossil fuel companies’ manipulation of the public across the world. It took place over a number of months, supplemented by reminiscences and stream-of-consciousness ideas by Varshini Prakash, co-founder and Executive Director of the Sunrise Movement, as well as exchange with editors Vishakha Darbha & Kamil Ahsan. Furqan plumbed the archives of advertising across a number of decades in India and the United States. The product was, at the time, an unanticipated, serendipitous, and surprising product of an inquisitive but seemingly-directionless collaboration. SUB-HEAD ALSO IN THIS ISSUE: Kareen Adam · Nazish Chunara A Dhivehi Artists Showcase Shebani Rao A Freelancer's Guide to Decision-Making Video Still by Furqan Jawed SHARE Facebook Twitter LinkedIn Short Film Global Climate Change Multimedia Fossil Fuel Companies Oil Oil Production Advertising Electoral Politics Multimodal Simultaneity Sunrise Movement Neoliberalism Performance Art Mimesis Anthropocene Satire Absurdity Voiceover Archival Practice Video Archives Archiving Reminiscence Archives Public History Manipulation Affect Agriculture Mega Conglomerates Apocalyptic Environmentalism Art Activism Experimental Methods Video Form Graphic Design Capitalism Class Climate Anxiety Complicity Crisis Media Media Landscape False Advertising FURQAN JAWED is a freelance artist and graphic designer based in Brooklyn. A recent MFA graduate from the Yale School of Art, his practice focuses on the circulation of images and analysing the semiotics of representation within these images in the public and the private sphere. 26 Apr 2021 Short Film Global 26th Apr 2021 Into the Disaster-Verse Kamil Ahsan 12th Mar Dispatch from a Village Near Hamal Lake, Sindh, in August Ibrahim Buriro 12th Mar Chats Ep. 8 · On Migrations in Global History Neilesh Bose 4th May Dissident Kid Lit Saira Mir · Shelly Anand · Vashti Harrison · Simran Jeet Singh 20th Dec Photo Kathmandu & Public History in Nepal NayanTara Gurung Kakshapati 25th Nov On That Note:

Mahrang Baloch was sixteen when her father was abducted one morning in December 2009. She soon became a leading voice amongst the students holding the state to task for enforced disappearances in Balochistan, in the tradition of women leaders of the Baloch Students Organisation-Azad. In 2017, her brother was abducted. Mahrang redoubled her efforts. FEATURES Mahrang Baloch's Struggle Against Enforced Disappearances Mahrang Baloch was sixteen when her father was abducted one morning in December 2009. She soon became a leading voice amongst the students holding the state to task for enforced disappearances in Balochistan, in the tradition of women leaders of the Baloch Students Organisation-Azad. In 2017, her brother was abducted. Mahrang redoubled her efforts. Shah Meer Baloch He slept with his eldest daughter in his arms on the night of December 11, 2009. They had spent the entire evening talking about a host of issues in Balochistan—from education to enforced disappearances. Take care of your mother and sisters, he told her. It was as if Ghaffar Baloch knew that it was his last night with his family. That year, Baloch had moved from Quetta to Karachi, a city in the province of Sindh, with his family, because his wife needed to be admitted as a patient at the Institute of Surgery and Medicine. “It has been a decade, but I still remember the color of the clothes he was wearing that night. We barely slept because we had so many things to talk about. I had a feeling that something amiss was about to happen. He passed by me with a sad smile as I stood at the door and watched him leave.” said Mahrang Baloch, the then 16-year-old daughter of Ghaffar Baloch. The following morning, Baloch was abducted on the way to the hospital by men in plainclothes. His abduction coincided with the growing momentum of the Baloch insurgency and as in the past, it accompanied a round of enforced disappearances, which have by now become the norm in Balochistan, the most troubled province of Pakistan. Baloch had joined the long list of missing persons from Balochistan. After Ghaffar Baloch’s abduction in 2009, his daughter Mahrang took to the streets holding banners and shouting slogans, a protest she continued for two years. Donning a traditional Balochi black chadar with strips of red and yellow, instead of a veil or scarf worn by women in Pakistan, Mahrang fully embraced her role as a student leader of the resistance movement. Many noticed her on social media, when she narrated the story of her father’s torturous disappearance in a video appeal that was carried by the online journal Tanqeed . “Those five years of my life were the hardest. I was the oldest amongst my sisters, so I had to be strong for everyone. I would pray that my father would come back. There was a hope that he would be back. I kept on holding onto the hope that life would be normal again,” Mahrang said. “But that never happened.” Balochistan, plagued by tribalism and patriarchy, has remained male-dominated in the political arena, with the exception of a few women politicians such as Fazila Alynani, a parliamentarian from Balochistan in the 1970s, and Zubaida Jalal, currently the federal minister for defense production. With the enforced disappearances, Baloch men are vanishing from the political scene in Balochistan, creating a vacuum of sorts. To fill this gap, Baloch women have taken the responsibility of leading the movement against enforced disappearances, political and economic injustices, military operations, and the ongoing exploitation of Balochistan. This has transformed politics in the beleaguered province. Having seen their loved ones murdered and picked up over the years, the voice of the new generation of Baloch women and girls has sparked a non-violent revolution in the face of much adversity. But at the same time, there remain feelings of alienation and distrust with the state. Much credit for the political mobilization of the Baloch women can be given, rightly, to Karima Baloch, the first chairperson of the Baloch Students Organisation-Azad (BSO-Azad). On December 22, 2020, Karima Baloch was found dead near Lake Ontario in Toronto, Canada, after being missing for a day. She is the second Baloch dissident to be found dead under suspicious circumstances in the countries they had sought exile in. Earlier in the year, the chief editor of the Balochistan Times, Sajid Hussain, was found dead in a river in Sweden, weeks after he had gone missing on March 2, 2020. Subsequently, Pakistani activists around the world demanded investigations into the suspicious circumstances surrounding both deaths. Many shared a 2017 video of former dictator Pervez Musharraf claiming in an interview that the Pakistani state would hound and capture dissidents wherever they might be. Such is the present state of the Baloch who have dared raise their voices against the injustices of the Pakistani state since the time of Partition. Karima was often singled out and criticised for her activism and political mobilization of women, particularly by online trolls, and some Baloch tribal and conservative men who told her to stay out of politics. But today, after her mysterious death, women are leading protests across the province. Among the women demanding an investigation into Karima’s death is Mahrang Baloch—who has been leading the movement against enforced disappearances and ongoing state oppression in Balochistan. As more girls came to join the Sept. 8, 2020, protest for solidarity, Mahrang Baloch, on the right and Sabiha Baloch, on the left, drag a carpet to sit on it near the Governor House, where they observed a hunger strike to demand amendments in Balochistan University of Medical and Health Services (BUMHS) act for restoration of Bolan Medical College's quota system. Photograph courtesy of Mashal Baloch. The Baloch Insurgency Ghaffar Baloch’s abduction in 2009 was the third time he had been picked up by security agencies. This era, 2009- 2013, in the troubled province of Balochistan, was marked by a state policy of ‘kill and dump.’ Alleged insurgents, nationalists, political workers, students, and activists—many of whom had been accused of “terrorism” by state agencies—were found dead after being abducted. The culprits? Most point the finger at the state. But naming them explicitly and publicly comes with a huge risk. Instead, people use euphemisms and nicknames that vaguely address the role Pakistan’s shadowy military agencies play in these disappearances. Many, with some dark humor, refer to the abductors as farishtey, or angels. Giving Balochistan’s issues a forum has had serious consequences. In late 2013 and early 2014, along with a small group of family members—mostly women—of missing persons, renowned Baloch activist 70-year-old Mama Qadeer, marched some 2,000 kilometers on foot from Quetta to Islamabad via Karachi to demand the release of missing persons. The record-breaking long march did not get the coverage it needed. With swollen feet, they reached Islamabad, but they were not heard, nor their demand of meeting with the government was fulfilled. Hamid Mir, one of the few journalists who gave the issue coverage by inviting Mama and the marchers on his talk show, later survived an attack by four gunmen in Karachi. Mir still carries two bullets from the attack in his body. In 2015, progressive human rights activist Sabeen Mahmud invited Qadeer to speak at a panel discussion at her cafe and bookstore in Karachi. Shortly after the event, as she was driving home, armed motorcyclists surrounded her car and opened fire, killing her. In 2012, the former chief justice of Pakistan outrightly accused paramilitary forces of spearheading enforced disappearances in Balochistan. Deputy Inspector-General Operations Balochistan Police, Hamid Shakeel presented CCTV footage of a private hotel, in which the Frontier Corps (FC), a paramilitary force stationed in Balochistan that is responsible for maintenance of law and order, can be seen picking up three people who went missing later. FC denied involvement in this case. In 2017, Shakeel was killed in a suicide bombing. Balochistan province, bordering Iran and Afghanistan, is not new to uprisings. The growing number of enforced disappearances can be traced to the Baloch insurgent movement that spread from the rugged mountains of the province to the coastal towns in Arabian Sea and permeated every aspect of Baloch social and political life since the earliest days of Pakistan’s existence. Soon after the inception of Pakistan in 1948, Prince Abdul Karim Khan, the brother of then ruler Khan of Kalat, took up arms against the merger of Balochistan with Pakistan. This was the start of the first round of insurgency. The movement petered out soon after but was followed by three more short-lived insurgent movements in 1958, 1962, and 1973. The insurgency is also driven by the ongoing exploitation of Balochistan’s rich natural resources. In the early 1950s, one of the world’s largest natural gas reserves was discovered in Sui, and by the mid-1950s , pipelines were laid down to supply major cities in other provinces. Since then, the central government has been accused by insurgents and local activists of taking Balochistan’s coal, gas, minerals, uranium, and utilizing them for richer provinces, particularly Punjab. The first signs of the most recent iteration of the Baloch insurgency were seen in the early 2000s, as the federal government developed a port city in the region. In May 2004, three Chinese engineers were killed in an attack in Gwadar, Balochistan’s coastal town at the mouth of Arabian Sea. Local nationalists had expressed opposition to the development of the region, saying that the benefits would bypass Balochistan and go to Punjab instead. Much of their ire was directed at the policies of the then military dictator Musharaff, who had strategically aligned Pakistan with the United States in the War on Terror, seeking to rid the Afghanistan-Pakistan region of the Taliban and Al Qaeda. The United States was carrying out drone strikes in parts of Pakistan, and Pakistan’s security agencies began military operations across the country which led to numerous human rights abuses, including the arbitrary detention and arrests of suspected militants. Ghaffar Baloch was first abducted by security agencies in 2006. Four months later, on August 26, 2006, Nawab Shahbaz Akbar Khan Bugti, the former Governor and Chief Minister of Balochistan and chief of the Bugti Tribe, was killed in a military operation by Musharraf, who had once said about Bugti: “Don't push us. It is not the 1970s when you can hit and run and hide in the mountains. This time you won't even know what hit you.” These remarks were widely condemned by Baloch activists. Bugti was buried near Sui in a locked box and no one saw his body. News of his killing spread like a wildfire across the province. The towns and villages that were not part of the previous uprisings in 1948, 1958, 1962, and 1973 now actively took part in the insurgency. Residents from Pasni, the coastal region of Gwadar, and the provincial capital Quetta, blocked roads, burnt tires, and threw stones at government vehicles. Police stations, government offices, and shops were torched and damaged. Separately, students and political workers have continuously expressed their anger towards the seven decades long unjust and brutal policies of the state. A common saying in the street and classrooms was: Natural gas was discovered in Balochistan in the 1950s, Punjab consumed it in the 1960s, but to this date the people of Sui are devoid of gas. Only the provincial capital had gas. Mahrang has been speaking out against this unequal distribution of resources. She told me: “The people in the corridors of power never paid heed to the grievances of the Baloch and their national question. They always preferred the mineral resources of our land over our people.” The residents of Balochistan, particularly youth and political workers, lamented the Pakistani state’s approach towards their province and the Baloch. Many took up arms against the state and called for the independence of Balochistan from Pakistan. But not all nationalists backed the call for independence and preferred to demand provincial autonomy. The common denominator was that they were all against state oppression and the brutal rule of Musharraf. In 2008, the Baloch insurgency witnessed an upsurge, and several security personnel were targeted. Settlers in Balochistan, commonly referred to and perceived as Punjabis, were asked to leave the province, as the country’s most powerful institution, the army, was largely dominated by Punjabis. They were perceived to be colluders and enemies during the military operations to quash the insurgency in Balochistan. According to the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan, in 2006, the entire province was in a war-like state. Sui was bombed. The Baloch insurgents not only targeted the state but also waged war against political workers, who campaigned for taking part in parliamentary politics to demand the rights of the Baloch nation, and common Baloch whom they suspected of working for the security agencies. In district Nazim Kech, Moula Baksh Dashti, who advocated using parliamentary politics to resolve the human rights crisis in the province, lost his life reportedly at the hands of Baloch insurgents. The insurgents were accused of picking up and killing people and became increasingly involved in abductions for ransom. As the insurgency gained momentum, the state responded with a counter-insurgency operation. Many people, regardless of their involvement in the insurgency, were forcibly disappeared. Anyone suspected of sympathizing with the insurgents, relatives or mere acquaintances who may have studied or met someone who later became an insurgent all shared the same fate: enforced disappearance. Some were abducted to pressurize insurgents and send a message that waging a war on the state meant that their loved ones were not safe. While no proper research has thus far been conducted on the proportion of violence carried out by the state in comparison with the insurgents, the state has always been believed to be more brutal against political workers and average Baloch citizens. Counter-insurgency tactics are not new to the people of this province. They have witnessed them before: in the 1970s during the democratically elected government of Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto, founder of the Pakistan People’s Party (PPP). Under Bhutto, the army carried out numerous disappearances. The first missing person was Asadullah Mengal, the son of former chief minister of Balochistan, Sardar Attaullah Mengal, and brother of BNP chief, Akhtar Mengal, who was allegedly killed in an encounter in Karachi. Bhutto noted in his book Rumours and Realities that he did not know about Mengal’s murder and later he was told that he was buried near Thatta, Sindh. Even the armed forces had apparently forgotten where exactly they buried him. Decades later, during another PPP government, between 2008 and 2013, Balochistan was once again engulfed by war. Then president Asif Ali Zardari (son-in-law of former prime minister Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, and widow of Benazir Bhutto) remained silent on the military operations and enforced disappearances and announced a development package for the province to ease tensions. But these efforts were too little, too late. The present-day insurgency has evolved from its early days, with more involvement from young middle-class, educated Baloch who don't hail from the tribal belt. Two months after the killing of Nawab Bugti in 2006, Ghaffar Baloch was presented in front of the court. The case continued for three years until he was released in 2009 due to lack of evidence against him. “The happiest day of my life was when my father was released. I remember all the time I spent with him vividly.” Mahrang says. “After his release he bought bangles for me which I wore on Eid. I was so happy that he was around. But the happiness was short-lived.” On July 1, 2011, the body of Ghaffar Baloch—carrying visible signs of torture—was found on a roadside in Lasbela district, some 300 kilometers away from Karachi. Mahrang Baloch and Sabiha Baloch (sitting on the right side of Mahrang), sit on a carpet along with other girls, staging a protest in front of the Governor House, Quetta, in Balochistan, while demanding amendments in the Balochistan University of Medical and Health Services (BUMHS) Act and restoration of Bolan Medical College quota system. Students believe that the new act will hinder the progress of students from far flung areas of Balochistan to get admission at the university. Only students from Quetta (Balochistan's capital) would benefit from the admission policy without the quota system. Photograph courtesy of Mashal Baloch Dissident Voices After her father’s killing in 2011, Mahrang Baloch slowed down her campaigning for the release of missing persons. When her brother, Nasir Baloch was picked up in December 2017, Mahrang says she realized that no one was safe. It was the turning point in her life. “I was again on the roads but this time it was for my brother,” Mahrang says with a grim smile, “The deputy commissioner of Quetta told me that I had two options. Either I should sit at home silently, or spend time on roads and eventually move to Europe for my safety. I decided I will remain on the roads and protest, but I won’t flee.” “I don’t remember when I stopped becoming an ordinary Baloch woman and became a Baloch woman activist instead,” she chuckles, as she looks back and thinks about all the turns that life took, “I felt it is important to use social media if I wanted to talk about the issues concerning Balochistan. I started using Facebook and Twitter after my brother’s abduction. The first tweet I put out was about my brother’s enforced disappearance.” Mahrang’s brother was released three months and 10 days after his abduction. His release marked not the end of her activism but the beginning. She started raising her voice for other missing persons. The local Pakistani media would not give them coverage, “so social media was the only platform left for us to bring our issues forth and pressurize the government,” she said. “Initially I did not know what to write and what not to write, I worked on choosing my words carefully.” Along with organizing on the ground, she mobilized protests through social media and became a vocal voice for the Baloch missing persons on various online networks. On August 13, 2020, Hayat Baloch, a student of Karachi University, hailing from Turbat, was killed by the FC in front of his parents. This incident sparked widespread protests across Balochistan. When a picture of Hayat’s parents weeping next to his dead body began circulating online, many Baloch social media users were divided on how to interpret the incident. Some argued that it was wrong to circulate the image out of respect for the family’s privacy. Mahrang in a tweet , cited the picture that sparked the Soweto uprising in South Africa. It shows a dying student being carried in the arms of a fellow student and accompanied by his screaming sister. She said that after seeing the image, Nelson Mandela had said “Enough is enough.” When her father had gone missing, Mahrang’s uncle had advised her to speak to the media in order to plead for his return. She would desperately watch news channels to see if there was any news about her father. “At the time, Pakistani news channels gave very little coverage to the issue of missing persons,” she says, “but now, even that little coverage has vanished into thin air.” The issue of missing persons has become an eternal part of Balochistan’s politics. In the general elections of 2018, Balochistan National Party’s (BNP) chief Sardar Akthar Mengal participated in the election promising to amplify the cause of missing persons. He joined the Pakistan Tehreek-i-Insaf (PTI)-led government at the center, under Prime Minister Imran Khan, after being promised that PTI would address Balochistan’s issue of missing persons, among others. That never happened. Mengal submitted a list of 5,128 missing persons in the National Assembly. The government was unable to fulfill their promises. Mengal finally broke his alliance with the PTI in April 2020, saying that even if the government had released 500 missing persons in the last two years, more than 1,500 others had been picked up. Mahrang Baloch talks to Mushtaq Baloch, a student at Bolan Medical College and also member of Baloch Students Action Committee (BSAC) who is observing a hunger strike on Sept. 8, 2020, near the Governor House and Chief Minister secretariat in Quetta for the amendment of Balochistan University of Medical and Health Services (BUMHS) Act. Mushtaq fell unconscious but still continued the hunger strike after having an IV drip injected into the backside of his palm. Photograph courtesy of Mashal Baloch. Students and Women’s Politics In 2019, Mahrang led protesting students of the University of Balochistan who had broken their silence on years of blackmail and threats by the university administration. Newspapers reported that for several years, officials in the university administration had been using footage from CCTV cameras installed around the university campus citing ‘security’ reasons while extorting money and sexually harassing female students. As a result of protests across the province, the university’s vice chancellor stepped down. “I realized as a woman that if they would not let us get an education then what really is left?” Mahrang asks. Further, she often found that she received little allyship in her activism from around Pakistan. “The response from feminists and women’s rights activists from other parts of Pakistan during our protests was not satisfying. Since the boots [i.e. security agencies] were involved in the scandal, perhaps that is why they did not speak up. It is rare for such mainstream groups to talk about missing persons and human rights abuses. Perhaps they do not care about what happens in Balochistan, just like most Pakistanis.” Many Pakistanis say they do not understand what’s happening in Balochistan. Just a few years ago, news rarely travelled out of Balochistan. The province is rightly called a “ blackhole for media.” But today, many, if not all incidents and news reach the people through social media. Mahrang adds “I believe they are intentionally silent, and that a fake sense of patriotism has clouded their minds, so they ignore everything, even human rights abuses.” Renowned Pakistani novelist, Muhammad Hanif, puts it in a candid way: “Balochistan is not remote just geographically but in our imagination as well.” Baloch women are often leading the movements advocating the release of their loved ones. Tribalism in Balochistan is one of the reasons women have often been confined in their activism and daily life. State institutions have supported and strengthened tribalism. The government has always preferred supporting tribal leaders because it is easy to control them in parliament. Since an entire tribe remains under the control of the leader, and the leader remains under the control of the establishment, the government is able to exert control at all levels of Baloch politics. "The Sardars [tribal leaders] and the establishment have a strong nexus. The establishment brings Sardars to the parliament and so the ongoing Sardari system remains one of the biggest impediments to the development of a middle class in Balochistan. Instead, political efforts should focus on ceding power to the local people," says Mir SherBaz Khetran, a research fellow at the Institute of Strategic Studies in Islamabad. Yet in dominant Pakistani political discourse, particularly among so-called intellectuals in cities outside the province, the Baloch are perceived as an illiterate nation. Mahrang believes that such perceptions have caused Baloch women even more suffering. “Baloch women have always been a part of the movement for rights against state oppression. This challenges the dominant narrative, but most activists have rarely supported that.” When Mahrang’s father was briefly released in 2009, he told her that she should participate in student politics and talk about what was happening in Balochistan and that she had to continue her activism for the women and other people of Balochistan. “He said I won't give you any advice; I want you to analyze things yourself and make your own narrative.” Alongside her activism, Mahrang Baloch is a medical student. Over years of protests and activism, she has made sure that her studies are not adversely affected. “Everything related to studies would always excite me. School has always been my favorite place. I never took education as a necessity or something I had to do, but rather as something I loved doing.” The government of Balochistan has also been divided over the current quota system in educational institutions, arguing instead that merit should prevail. Mahrang, however, is firmly in favor of quotas. She led protests to restore the quota system, and ultimately succeeded in doing so at Bolan Medical College (BMC). “There should be merit, but after providing equal educational opportunities to all students,” Mahrang says. “You can’t expect a student from a government school to compete with a student from an elite private school.” Last year, during her protests for the restoration of the quota system and amendment of the BMC Act, Mahrang and other students were asked to meet with Education Minister Sardar Yar Mohammed Rind, who was also one of Balochistan’s most influential tribal chiefs. Instead of seeking consensus, Mahrang says, the minister shouted at her in front of five other ministers. “He said if you women were truly [representing] our honor, you wouldn’t be out here protesting,” she recalls smiling. Mahrang says at the time, she had two options: either to ignore what he had said or respond to the misogynistic act. She chose the second option because what the minister had said was not just about her but pertained to all women. She told him that what he had said was wrong. As an employee of the government, he was responsible for solving their issues. He had failed to do his job. A clearly flustered Rind (the Education Minister) began to misbehave and told her to leave because, as Rind said, “respectable women don’t protest.” “I went to the protest area and I was disturbed. I wondered whether to talk about this in front of the media. I decided I must so that no one else, be it an elected or a selected person, does something like this ever again. I did not expect the positive response I got from the people of Balochistan for speaking up against the tribal chief and minister,” she says. Mahrang made history as the first woman to confront one of Balochistan’s most influential chiefs and hold him accountable for his job. As a result of consistent efforts, protests and hunger strikes by Mahrang and her fellow students, the government finally announced amendments to Bolan Medical College Act. They also assured students that the quota system would remain intact. As an activist, Mahrang feels tired and frustrated at times but the work she does brings her joy. “The real happiness lies in activism and talking about the rights of your nation and its marginalized communities,” she says. She calls herself a nationalist. “I fight for the rights of the people of Balochistan; the land I belong to.” She quoted a line from Franz Fanon’s The Wretched of The Earth : “For a colonized people, the most essential value, because the most concrete, is first and foremost the land: the land which will bring them bread and, above all, dignity.” Mahrang Baloch was first jailed in 2006 when she was a 13-year-old, protesting for the release of her father. When her uncle arrived to bail her out, she refused and said she would not leave jail until her father was released. Spending days protesting in August, having to sleep on roads and getting dragged and thrown into a police van—none of these hindrances deterred her from her activism. “I believe jail is not something new. It has more freedom, as I can read and spend time with myself in the prison,” she chuckles. “They cannot break me by imprisoning me. They would liberate me.” ▢ He slept with his eldest daughter in his arms on the night of December 11, 2009. They had spent the entire evening talking about a host of issues in Balochistan—from education to enforced disappearances. Take care of your mother and sisters, he told her. It was as if Ghaffar Baloch knew that it was his last night with his family. That year, Baloch had moved from Quetta to Karachi, a city in the province of Sindh, with his family, because his wife needed to be admitted as a patient at the Institute of Surgery and Medicine. “It has been a decade, but I still remember the color of the clothes he was wearing that night. We barely slept because we had so many things to talk about. I had a feeling that something amiss was about to happen. He passed by me with a sad smile as I stood at the door and watched him leave.” said Mahrang Baloch, the then 16-year-old daughter of Ghaffar Baloch. The following morning, Baloch was abducted on the way to the hospital by men in plainclothes. His abduction coincided with the growing momentum of the Baloch insurgency and as in the past, it accompanied a round of enforced disappearances, which have by now become the norm in Balochistan, the most troubled province of Pakistan. Baloch had joined the long list of missing persons from Balochistan. After Ghaffar Baloch’s abduction in 2009, his daughter Mahrang took to the streets holding banners and shouting slogans, a protest she continued for two years. Donning a traditional Balochi black chadar with strips of red and yellow, instead of a veil or scarf worn by women in Pakistan, Mahrang fully embraced her role as a student leader of the resistance movement. Many noticed her on social media, when she narrated the story of her father’s torturous disappearance in a video appeal that was carried by the online journal Tanqeed . “Those five years of my life were the hardest. I was the oldest amongst my sisters, so I had to be strong for everyone. I would pray that my father would come back. There was a hope that he would be back. I kept on holding onto the hope that life would be normal again,” Mahrang said. “But that never happened.” Balochistan, plagued by tribalism and patriarchy, has remained male-dominated in the political arena, with the exception of a few women politicians such as Fazila Alynani, a parliamentarian from Balochistan in the 1970s, and Zubaida Jalal, currently the federal minister for defense production. With the enforced disappearances, Baloch men are vanishing from the political scene in Balochistan, creating a vacuum of sorts. To fill this gap, Baloch women have taken the responsibility of leading the movement against enforced disappearances, political and economic injustices, military operations, and the ongoing exploitation of Balochistan. This has transformed politics in the beleaguered province. Having seen their loved ones murdered and picked up over the years, the voice of the new generation of Baloch women and girls has sparked a non-violent revolution in the face of much adversity. But at the same time, there remain feelings of alienation and distrust with the state. Much credit for the political mobilization of the Baloch women can be given, rightly, to Karima Baloch, the first chairperson of the Baloch Students Organisation-Azad (BSO-Azad). On December 22, 2020, Karima Baloch was found dead near Lake Ontario in Toronto, Canada, after being missing for a day. She is the second Baloch dissident to be found dead under suspicious circumstances in the countries they had sought exile in. Earlier in the year, the chief editor of the Balochistan Times, Sajid Hussain, was found dead in a river in Sweden, weeks after he had gone missing on March 2, 2020. Subsequently, Pakistani activists around the world demanded investigations into the suspicious circumstances surrounding both deaths. Many shared a 2017 video of former dictator Pervez Musharraf claiming in an interview that the Pakistani state would hound and capture dissidents wherever they might be. Such is the present state of the Baloch who have dared raise their voices against the injustices of the Pakistani state since the time of Partition. Karima was often singled out and criticised for her activism and political mobilization of women, particularly by online trolls, and some Baloch tribal and conservative men who told her to stay out of politics. But today, after her mysterious death, women are leading protests across the province. Among the women demanding an investigation into Karima’s death is Mahrang Baloch—who has been leading the movement against enforced disappearances and ongoing state oppression in Balochistan. As more girls came to join the Sept. 8, 2020, protest for solidarity, Mahrang Baloch, on the right and Sabiha Baloch, on the left, drag a carpet to sit on it near the Governor House, where they observed a hunger strike to demand amendments in Balochistan University of Medical and Health Services (BUMHS) act for restoration of Bolan Medical College's quota system. Photograph courtesy of Mashal Baloch. The Baloch Insurgency Ghaffar Baloch’s abduction in 2009 was the third time he had been picked up by security agencies. This era, 2009- 2013, in the troubled province of Balochistan, was marked by a state policy of ‘kill and dump.’ Alleged insurgents, nationalists, political workers, students, and activists—many of whom had been accused of “terrorism” by state agencies—were found dead after being abducted. The culprits? Most point the finger at the state. But naming them explicitly and publicly comes with a huge risk. Instead, people use euphemisms and nicknames that vaguely address the role Pakistan’s shadowy military agencies play in these disappearances. Many, with some dark humor, refer to the abductors as farishtey, or angels. Giving Balochistan’s issues a forum has had serious consequences. In late 2013 and early 2014, along with a small group of family members—mostly women—of missing persons, renowned Baloch activist 70-year-old Mama Qadeer, marched some 2,000 kilometers on foot from Quetta to Islamabad via Karachi to demand the release of missing persons. The record-breaking long march did not get the coverage it needed. With swollen feet, they reached Islamabad, but they were not heard, nor their demand of meeting with the government was fulfilled. Hamid Mir, one of the few journalists who gave the issue coverage by inviting Mama and the marchers on his talk show, later survived an attack by four gunmen in Karachi. Mir still carries two bullets from the attack in his body. In 2015, progressive human rights activist Sabeen Mahmud invited Qadeer to speak at a panel discussion at her cafe and bookstore in Karachi. Shortly after the event, as she was driving home, armed motorcyclists surrounded her car and opened fire, killing her. In 2012, the former chief justice of Pakistan outrightly accused paramilitary forces of spearheading enforced disappearances in Balochistan. Deputy Inspector-General Operations Balochistan Police, Hamid Shakeel presented CCTV footage of a private hotel, in which the Frontier Corps (FC), a paramilitary force stationed in Balochistan that is responsible for maintenance of law and order, can be seen picking up three people who went missing later. FC denied involvement in this case. In 2017, Shakeel was killed in a suicide bombing. Balochistan province, bordering Iran and Afghanistan, is not new to uprisings. The growing number of enforced disappearances can be traced to the Baloch insurgent movement that spread from the rugged mountains of the province to the coastal towns in Arabian Sea and permeated every aspect of Baloch social and political life since the earliest days of Pakistan’s existence. Soon after the inception of Pakistan in 1948, Prince Abdul Karim Khan, the brother of then ruler Khan of Kalat, took up arms against the merger of Balochistan with Pakistan. This was the start of the first round of insurgency. The movement petered out soon after but was followed by three more short-lived insurgent movements in 1958, 1962, and 1973. The insurgency is also driven by the ongoing exploitation of Balochistan’s rich natural resources. In the early 1950s, one of the world’s largest natural gas reserves was discovered in Sui, and by the mid-1950s , pipelines were laid down to supply major cities in other provinces. Since then, the central government has been accused by insurgents and local activists of taking Balochistan’s coal, gas, minerals, uranium, and utilizing them for richer provinces, particularly Punjab. The first signs of the most recent iteration of the Baloch insurgency were seen in the early 2000s, as the federal government developed a port city in the region. In May 2004, three Chinese engineers were killed in an attack in Gwadar, Balochistan’s coastal town at the mouth of Arabian Sea. Local nationalists had expressed opposition to the development of the region, saying that the benefits would bypass Balochistan and go to Punjab instead. Much of their ire was directed at the policies of the then military dictator Musharaff, who had strategically aligned Pakistan with the United States in the War on Terror, seeking to rid the Afghanistan-Pakistan region of the Taliban and Al Qaeda. The United States was carrying out drone strikes in parts of Pakistan, and Pakistan’s security agencies began military operations across the country which led to numerous human rights abuses, including the arbitrary detention and arrests of suspected militants. Ghaffar Baloch was first abducted by security agencies in 2006. Four months later, on August 26, 2006, Nawab Shahbaz Akbar Khan Bugti, the former Governor and Chief Minister of Balochistan and chief of the Bugti Tribe, was killed in a military operation by Musharraf, who had once said about Bugti: “Don't push us. It is not the 1970s when you can hit and run and hide in the mountains. This time you won't even know what hit you.” These remarks were widely condemned by Baloch activists. Bugti was buried near Sui in a locked box and no one saw his body. News of his killing spread like a wildfire across the province. The towns and villages that were not part of the previous uprisings in 1948, 1958, 1962, and 1973 now actively took part in the insurgency. Residents from Pasni, the coastal region of Gwadar, and the provincial capital Quetta, blocked roads, burnt tires, and threw stones at government vehicles. Police stations, government offices, and shops were torched and damaged. Separately, students and political workers have continuously expressed their anger towards the seven decades long unjust and brutal policies of the state. A common saying in the street and classrooms was: Natural gas was discovered in Balochistan in the 1950s, Punjab consumed it in the 1960s, but to this date the people of Sui are devoid of gas. Only the provincial capital had gas. Mahrang has been speaking out against this unequal distribution of resources. She told me: “The people in the corridors of power never paid heed to the grievances of the Baloch and their national question. They always preferred the mineral resources of our land over our people.” The residents of Balochistan, particularly youth and political workers, lamented the Pakistani state’s approach towards their province and the Baloch. Many took up arms against the state and called for the independence of Balochistan from Pakistan. But not all nationalists backed the call for independence and preferred to demand provincial autonomy. The common denominator was that they were all against state oppression and the brutal rule of Musharraf. In 2008, the Baloch insurgency witnessed an upsurge, and several security personnel were targeted. Settlers in Balochistan, commonly referred to and perceived as Punjabis, were asked to leave the province, as the country’s most powerful institution, the army, was largely dominated by Punjabis. They were perceived to be colluders and enemies during the military operations to quash the insurgency in Balochistan. According to the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan, in 2006, the entire province was in a war-like state. Sui was bombed. The Baloch insurgents not only targeted the state but also waged war against political workers, who campaigned for taking part in parliamentary politics to demand the rights of the Baloch nation, and common Baloch whom they suspected of working for the security agencies. In district Nazim Kech, Moula Baksh Dashti, who advocated using parliamentary politics to resolve the human rights crisis in the province, lost his life reportedly at the hands of Baloch insurgents. The insurgents were accused of picking up and killing people and became increasingly involved in abductions for ransom. As the insurgency gained momentum, the state responded with a counter-insurgency operation. Many people, regardless of their involvement in the insurgency, were forcibly disappeared. Anyone suspected of sympathizing with the insurgents, relatives or mere acquaintances who may have studied or met someone who later became an insurgent all shared the same fate: enforced disappearance. Some were abducted to pressurize insurgents and send a message that waging a war on the state meant that their loved ones were not safe. While no proper research has thus far been conducted on the proportion of violence carried out by the state in comparison with the insurgents, the state has always been believed to be more brutal against political workers and average Baloch citizens. Counter-insurgency tactics are not new to the people of this province. They have witnessed them before: in the 1970s during the democratically elected government of Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto, founder of the Pakistan People’s Party (PPP). Under Bhutto, the army carried out numerous disappearances. The first missing person was Asadullah Mengal, the son of former chief minister of Balochistan, Sardar Attaullah Mengal, and brother of BNP chief, Akhtar Mengal, who was allegedly killed in an encounter in Karachi. Bhutto noted in his book Rumours and Realities that he did not know about Mengal’s murder and later he was told that he was buried near Thatta, Sindh. Even the armed forces had apparently forgotten where exactly they buried him. Decades later, during another PPP government, between 2008 and 2013, Balochistan was once again engulfed by war. Then president Asif Ali Zardari (son-in-law of former prime minister Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, and widow of Benazir Bhutto) remained silent on the military operations and enforced disappearances and announced a development package for the province to ease tensions. But these efforts were too little, too late. The present-day insurgency has evolved from its early days, with more involvement from young middle-class, educated Baloch who don't hail from the tribal belt. Two months after the killing of Nawab Bugti in 2006, Ghaffar Baloch was presented in front of the court. The case continued for three years until he was released in 2009 due to lack of evidence against him. “The happiest day of my life was when my father was released. I remember all the time I spent with him vividly.” Mahrang says. “After his release he bought bangles for me which I wore on Eid. I was so happy that he was around. But the happiness was short-lived.” On July 1, 2011, the body of Ghaffar Baloch—carrying visible signs of torture—was found on a roadside in Lasbela district, some 300 kilometers away from Karachi. Mahrang Baloch and Sabiha Baloch (sitting on the right side of Mahrang), sit on a carpet along with other girls, staging a protest in front of the Governor House, Quetta, in Balochistan, while demanding amendments in the Balochistan University of Medical and Health Services (BUMHS) Act and restoration of Bolan Medical College quota system. Students believe that the new act will hinder the progress of students from far flung areas of Balochistan to get admission at the university. Only students from Quetta (Balochistan's capital) would benefit from the admission policy without the quota system. Photograph courtesy of Mashal Baloch Dissident Voices After her father’s killing in 2011, Mahrang Baloch slowed down her campaigning for the release of missing persons. When her brother, Nasir Baloch was picked up in December 2017, Mahrang says she realized that no one was safe. It was the turning point in her life. “I was again on the roads but this time it was for my brother,” Mahrang says with a grim smile, “The deputy commissioner of Quetta told me that I had two options. Either I should sit at home silently, or spend time on roads and eventually move to Europe for my safety. I decided I will remain on the roads and protest, but I won’t flee.” “I don’t remember when I stopped becoming an ordinary Baloch woman and became a Baloch woman activist instead,” she chuckles, as she looks back and thinks about all the turns that life took, “I felt it is important to use social media if I wanted to talk about the issues concerning Balochistan. I started using Facebook and Twitter after my brother’s abduction. The first tweet I put out was about my brother’s enforced disappearance.” Mahrang’s brother was released three months and 10 days after his abduction. His release marked not the end of her activism but the beginning. She started raising her voice for other missing persons. The local Pakistani media would not give them coverage, “so social media was the only platform left for us to bring our issues forth and pressurize the government,” she said. “Initially I did not know what to write and what not to write, I worked on choosing my words carefully.” Along with organizing on the ground, she mobilized protests through social media and became a vocal voice for the Baloch missing persons on various online networks. On August 13, 2020, Hayat Baloch, a student of Karachi University, hailing from Turbat, was killed by the FC in front of his parents. This incident sparked widespread protests across Balochistan. When a picture of Hayat’s parents weeping next to his dead body began circulating online, many Baloch social media users were divided on how to interpret the incident. Some argued that it was wrong to circulate the image out of respect for the family’s privacy. Mahrang in a tweet , cited the picture that sparked the Soweto uprising in South Africa. It shows a dying student being carried in the arms of a fellow student and accompanied by his screaming sister. She said that after seeing the image, Nelson Mandela had said “Enough is enough.” When her father had gone missing, Mahrang’s uncle had advised her to speak to the media in order to plead for his return. She would desperately watch news channels to see if there was any news about her father. “At the time, Pakistani news channels gave very little coverage to the issue of missing persons,” she says, “but now, even that little coverage has vanished into thin air.” The issue of missing persons has become an eternal part of Balochistan’s politics. In the general elections of 2018, Balochistan National Party’s (BNP) chief Sardar Akthar Mengal participated in the election promising to amplify the cause of missing persons. He joined the Pakistan Tehreek-i-Insaf (PTI)-led government at the center, under Prime Minister Imran Khan, after being promised that PTI would address Balochistan’s issue of missing persons, among others. That never happened. Mengal submitted a list of 5,128 missing persons in the National Assembly. The government was unable to fulfill their promises. Mengal finally broke his alliance with the PTI in April 2020, saying that even if the government had released 500 missing persons in the last two years, more than 1,500 others had been picked up. Mahrang Baloch talks to Mushtaq Baloch, a student at Bolan Medical College and also member of Baloch Students Action Committee (BSAC) who is observing a hunger strike on Sept. 8, 2020, near the Governor House and Chief Minister secretariat in Quetta for the amendment of Balochistan University of Medical and Health Services (BUMHS) Act. Mushtaq fell unconscious but still continued the hunger strike after having an IV drip injected into the backside of his palm. Photograph courtesy of Mashal Baloch. Students and Women’s Politics In 2019, Mahrang led protesting students of the University of Balochistan who had broken their silence on years of blackmail and threats by the university administration. Newspapers reported that for several years, officials in the university administration had been using footage from CCTV cameras installed around the university campus citing ‘security’ reasons while extorting money and sexually harassing female students. As a result of protests across the province, the university’s vice chancellor stepped down. “I realized as a woman that if they would not let us get an education then what really is left?” Mahrang asks. Further, she often found that she received little allyship in her activism from around Pakistan. “The response from feminists and women’s rights activists from other parts of Pakistan during our protests was not satisfying. Since the boots [i.e. security agencies] were involved in the scandal, perhaps that is why they did not speak up. It is rare for such mainstream groups to talk about missing persons and human rights abuses. Perhaps they do not care about what happens in Balochistan, just like most Pakistanis.” Many Pakistanis say they do not understand what’s happening in Balochistan. Just a few years ago, news rarely travelled out of Balochistan. The province is rightly called a “ blackhole for media.” But today, many, if not all incidents and news reach the people through social media. Mahrang adds “I believe they are intentionally silent, and that a fake sense of patriotism has clouded their minds, so they ignore everything, even human rights abuses.” Renowned Pakistani novelist, Muhammad Hanif, puts it in a candid way: “Balochistan is not remote just geographically but in our imagination as well.” Baloch women are often leading the movements advocating the release of their loved ones. Tribalism in Balochistan is one of the reasons women have often been confined in their activism and daily life. State institutions have supported and strengthened tribalism. The government has always preferred supporting tribal leaders because it is easy to control them in parliament. Since an entire tribe remains under the control of the leader, and the leader remains under the control of the establishment, the government is able to exert control at all levels of Baloch politics. "The Sardars [tribal leaders] and the establishment have a strong nexus. The establishment brings Sardars to the parliament and so the ongoing Sardari system remains one of the biggest impediments to the development of a middle class in Balochistan. Instead, political efforts should focus on ceding power to the local people," says Mir SherBaz Khetran, a research fellow at the Institute of Strategic Studies in Islamabad. Yet in dominant Pakistani political discourse, particularly among so-called intellectuals in cities outside the province, the Baloch are perceived as an illiterate nation. Mahrang believes that such perceptions have caused Baloch women even more suffering. “Baloch women have always been a part of the movement for rights against state oppression. This challenges the dominant narrative, but most activists have rarely supported that.” When Mahrang’s father was briefly released in 2009, he told her that she should participate in student politics and talk about what was happening in Balochistan and that she had to continue her activism for the women and other people of Balochistan. “He said I won't give you any advice; I want you to analyze things yourself and make your own narrative.” Alongside her activism, Mahrang Baloch is a medical student. Over years of protests and activism, she has made sure that her studies are not adversely affected. “Everything related to studies would always excite me. School has always been my favorite place. I never took education as a necessity or something I had to do, but rather as something I loved doing.” The government of Balochistan has also been divided over the current quota system in educational institutions, arguing instead that merit should prevail. Mahrang, however, is firmly in favor of quotas. She led protests to restore the quota system, and ultimately succeeded in doing so at Bolan Medical College (BMC). “There should be merit, but after providing equal educational opportunities to all students,” Mahrang says. “You can’t expect a student from a government school to compete with a student from an elite private school.” Last year, during her protests for the restoration of the quota system and amendment of the BMC Act, Mahrang and other students were asked to meet with Education Minister Sardar Yar Mohammed Rind, who was also one of Balochistan’s most influential tribal chiefs. Instead of seeking consensus, Mahrang says, the minister shouted at her in front of five other ministers. “He said if you women were truly [representing] our honor, you wouldn’t be out here protesting,” she recalls smiling. Mahrang says at the time, she had two options: either to ignore what he had said or respond to the misogynistic act. She chose the second option because what the minister had said was not just about her but pertained to all women. She told him that what he had said was wrong. As an employee of the government, he was responsible for solving their issues. He had failed to do his job. A clearly flustered Rind (the Education Minister) began to misbehave and told her to leave because, as Rind said, “respectable women don’t protest.” “I went to the protest area and I was disturbed. I wondered whether to talk about this in front of the media. I decided I must so that no one else, be it an elected or a selected person, does something like this ever again. I did not expect the positive response I got from the people of Balochistan for speaking up against the tribal chief and minister,” she says. Mahrang made history as the first woman to confront one of Balochistan’s most influential chiefs and hold him accountable for his job. As a result of consistent efforts, protests and hunger strikes by Mahrang and her fellow students, the government finally announced amendments to Bolan Medical College Act. They also assured students that the quota system would remain intact. As an activist, Mahrang feels tired and frustrated at times but the work she does brings her joy. “The real happiness lies in activism and talking about the rights of your nation and its marginalized communities,” she says. She calls herself a nationalist. “I fight for the rights of the people of Balochistan; the land I belong to.” She quoted a line from Franz Fanon’s The Wretched of The Earth : “For a colonized people, the most essential value, because the most concrete, is first and foremost the land: the land which will bring them bread and, above all, dignity.” Mahrang Baloch was first jailed in 2006 when she was a 13-year-old, protesting for the release of her father. When her uncle arrived to bail her out, she refused and said she would not leave jail until her father was released. Spending days protesting in August, having to sleep on roads and getting dragged and thrown into a police van—none of these hindrances deterred her from her activism. “I believe jail is not something new. It has more freedom, as I can read and spend time with myself in the prison,” she chuckles. “They cannot break me by imprisoning me. They would liberate me.” ▢ SUB-HEAD ALSO IN THIS ISSUE: Kareen Adam · Nazish Chunara A Dhivehi Artists Showcase Shebani Rao A Freelancer's Guide to Decision-Making Mahrang Baloch, pictured here, was a medical student who, after the abductions of her father and brother, became an activist against enforced disappearances in Balochistan. Photography courtesy of Mashal Baloch. SHARE Facebook Twitter LinkedIn Reportage Balochistan Baloch Missing Persons Media Blackout Pakistan Baloch Insurgency Enforced Disappearances State Violence Military Crackdown Displacement Longform Gender Violence Histories of Revolutionary Politics Baloch Students Organization-Azad Military Operations Pervez Musharraf Zulfikar Ali Bhutto Karima Baloch Student Movements Baloch Student Long March Student Protests Student Solidarity March Journalism Baloch Students Organisation-Azad SHAH MEER BALOCH is a journalist who covers Pakistan for The Guardian . His work has been published in The Guardian, The New York Times, LA Times, Dawn, among others. He was awarded the 2020 Kurt Schork Award in International Freelance Journalism. 18 Feb 2021 Reportage Balochistan 18th Feb 2021 MASHAL BALOCH is a documentary photographer and filmmaker from Balochistan, Pakistan. Baloch is a trainee at DAP (Documentary Association of Pakistan) for their six month documentary training program called Doc Balochistan , supported by Berlinale Talents. Her work has been published in The Guardian, Los Angeles Times, The Diplomat and Baluch Hal . She has been awarded Pakistan’s largest-ever filmmaking grant, Stories From Southern Pakistan, by Patakha Pictures. Letter to History (II) Mir Mohammad Ali Talpur 9th Apr Letter to History (I) Hazaran Rahim Dad 3rd Apr Swat Youth Vanguards Manzoor Ali 24th Feb Chats Ep. 6 · Imagery of the Baloch Movement Mashal Baloch 28th Feb The Pakistani Left, Separatism & Student Movements Ammar Ali Jan 14th Dec On That Note: