The recent televised interviews of two former militant commanders, Sarfraz Bangalzai of the banned United Baloch Army and Gulzar Imam Shambay of the proscribed Baloch National Army, have ignited a defining debate in Pakistan. Their confessions, aired on major national networks including ARY News, Geo, Bol, and PTV, tore down decades of propaganda that had long romanticized rebellion in Balochistan. For the first time, the architects of insurgency themselves admitted that the so-called “freedom struggle” was nothing more than a carefully orchestrated deception —rooted in foreign interests, false promises, and emotional manipulation of the youth.
Sarfraz Bangalzai’s revelations laid bare the internal machinery of terrorism in Balochistan and the propaganda ecosystem that sustains it. He exposed the deep interconnections between the Balochistan Liberation Army, Baloch Liberation Front, and the Baloch Yakjehti Committee, describing the BYC as a “soft front” designed to sanitize militancy under the pretense of rights activism. According to Bangalzai, BYC’s rallies and protests revolve around emotional triggers— especially the issue of “missing persons”— which are exploited to manipulate public sentiment and recruit young people into anti-state activities. This emotional exploitation, he said, is the cornerstone of their propaganda strategy, not genuine concern for human rights.
Bangalzai went further to reveal that India’s intelligence agency, RAW, directly funds and coordinates anti-Pakistan propaganda networks operating from Europe and Afghanistan. These networks use various digital platforms as their primary tools to radicalize youth and propagate separatist narratives. He explained that these platforms masquerade as independent news outlets but in reality function as psychological warfare arms —distorting facts, spreading disinformation, and glorifying militancy.
Equally significant were his disclosures about the internationalization of the insurgency. He identified Dr. Naseem Baloch, head of the Baloch National Movement in Europe, as one of the key figures mobilizing asylum seekers across Western countries to launch coordinated propaganda campaigns against Pakistan. These individuals, under the guise of activism, exploit European asylum frameworks by portraying Pakistan as a repressive state —securing financial aid, legal protection, and sympathy. In truth, Bangalzai noted, they act as proxies for hostile powers, transforming humanitarian platforms into engines of political subversion.
Bangalzai’s interview also exposed the familial and ideological continuity between current activism and past militancy. He revealed that Dr Mahrang Baloch’s father, Ghaffar Langove, was a BLA commander whose grave still bears the organization’s flag —symbolizing a direct lineage between separatist militancy and the so-called rights movements. He further disclosed that Langove’s death was not the result of any state operation, but an internal killing within the BLA, allegedly orchestrated by Hyrbyar Marri, as later confirmed by Mama Qadeer in a public statement. Bangalzai also clarified that many “missing persons” cases often cited in propaganda were actually victims of infighting among terrorist factions, falsely attributed to state agencies to inflame public anger.
In one of the most poignant revelations, Bangalzai criticized Dr Allah Nazar Baloch, once seen as the ideological face of the insurgency. He accused him of betraying his followers by abandoning the very land he vowed never to leave, choosing instead a life of luxury abroad. Bangalzai’s message was unambiguous: those who preach sacrifice from afar have turned the suffering of the Baloch people into political currency, while ordinary youth continue to pay the price with their lives.
If even the commanders of rebellion can recognize the futility of their cause, then the choice before Balochistan’s youth is clear. They can either remain prisoners of propaganda, or they can embrace the path of peace, education, and progress. The truth has finally been spoken from within— and it leaves no doubt: the gun has failed; dialogue must prevail.
The former militant’s appeal to parents, educators, and policymakers was heartfelt and urgent. He warned that Balochistan’s youth are being radicalized not through ideology but through emotional manipulation online. Social media, he said, has become the new battleground—where lies, anger, and half-truths are used as weapons. He urged the state to expand reintegration and rehabilitation programs for former militants, presenting them as living proof of Pakistan’s commitment to peace and reconciliation.
While Bangalzai’s words exposed the mechanics of terrorism, Gulzar Imam Shambay’s confessions illuminated its futility. Once a feared commander of the BNA, Shambay admitted that decades of armed struggle brought the Baloch people nothing but destruction. Years of bloodshed, he said, yielded neither justice nor development—only displacement, funerals, and unending misery. Serving foreign agendas under the illusion of “liberation,” he realized, only deepened Balochistan’s wounds.
Shambay’s admission marked a rare moment of introspection from within insurgent ranks. He declared that the future of Balochistan lies not in militancy but in dialogue with the state. His words carried the weight of personal experience— a man who had lived the myth of rebellion only to discover its hollowness. He urged Baloch youth to lay down arms and choose education, peace, and development over violence and manipulation.
Both Bangalzai and Shambay’s testimonies converge on a single truth: the insurgency in Balochistan has been hijacked by external forces and internal profiteers. It feeds on despair but delivers only devastation. The romanticized narrative of resistance has long served as a smokescreen for criminality, greed, and foreign interference. And yet, both men found redemption not through continued rebellion, but through truth and reconciliation.
Their confessions now stand as turning points in the long and painful history of Balochistan’s unrest. They strip away the false heroism of militancy and expose the manipulation of ordinary people in the name of nationalism. For policymakers, their words should serve as both warning and opportunity. The fight for Balochistan’s future must now shift from the mountains to the minds— from violence to vision, and from despair to development.
If even the commanders of rebellion can recognize the futility of their cause, then the choice before Balochistan’s youth is clear. They can either remain prisoners of propaganda, or they can embrace the path of peace, education, and progress. The truth has finally been spoken from within— and it leaves no doubt: the gun has failed; dialogue must prevail.
