This morning I was listening to the news networks here in the USA working their “talking heads” from ex generals to other media hacks (of course all experts on the Region). “Shock, horror…one’s a nuclear power and the other’s about to be, this is extremely serious etc etc!”
What wasn’t mentioned though, was that through the latest round of Greater Middle East power games, both countries were aiming and firing their hardware at Baluch separatists. Most attacks on these people have come from the military of the country that they reside in.
The people of Baluchistan, which officially on a map is a province in Pakistan bordering Iran and Afghanistan, and has an extremely important coastline, oh and happens to be mineral rich, yet they stretch beyond the provincial borders into Iran, Afghanistan and across the sea into Oman.
They are extremely tribal, passionate, and are on the whole a secular people.
However, when speaking with them, it becomes very apparent that none see themselves as Pakistani, Iranian, Afghan or Omani…all see themselves as Baluch.
A bit like the Kurds of Iraq, Iran, Syria and Turkey (as Kurdistan stretches into those countries), the Baluch have similar problems. All ruled by someone else of a different ethnicity. Oh, and of course the Kurds are sitting on a mineral rich ground also.
I first got to meet my first Baluch at the tender age of 17, while going to my first war in Dhofar Province in Oman, next to the border with Yemen to the south, and Saudi Arabia to the west. I was positioned on the Salalah coastal plains defending the airfield. We lived rough in a small fortress which was called a Hedgehog. Built from oil drums full of rubble, ammunition containers full of rubble, and filled sandbags, all built up and made for a great defensive position (no Hesco baskets in those days…sadly). On the Hedgehog was an individual named “Johnson,” an older man with red henna’d hair, and sometimes a red beard too. He worked on the Hedgehog as our cook…his freshly baked bread early in the morning with a mug of Omani sweet tea was just amazing…this was 1972 and I still miss it today!
The great man Johnson from Baluchistan, on a Hedgehog defensive position in Dhofar…early70s.
Johnson would tell me all about Baluchistan, his tribe, and their history. His version was that the Baluch origins were from Syria centuries ago. His view was that they were more Arab than Persian or Pakistani where most are living today. I seem to remember someone telling me that there were about half a million Baluch living in Oman.
After the Dhofar War that officially ended in 1976, I was on an Omani dhow in the north of Oman in the Musandam Peninsula, the very northern tip of Oman that looks across to Iran in the Strait of Hormuz, a very strategic location for the free flow of shipping as we see today. I was part of a 4 man SAS patrol carrying out “hearts and minds” along the coast to the local Omanis. I was keen to further my Arabic during this period on the Dhow, however the crew were all Baluch and they spoke Farsi (Iranian). One young crew member spoke broken English…like myself, so we communicated with our broken English for the duration. Back then the population of the Musandam was sparse, most were living on the coast, and many still in caves, there were no roads…today it has changed immensely with feeding off of tourism. The operation lasted for two weeks, from talking to the crew through my English speaking Baluch “mate” to meeting the local population living in the stone age was an amazing experience. The coast was high cliffs with the odd natural beach area. The sea was crystal clear, and we could pick out cray fish amongst the rocks, and just free dive down and take them for dinner on the dhow.
The Omani dhow with it’s Baluch crew along the rugged coastline of the Musandam. Note the beach and Omani fishing boats top right of the photo, behind those are the caves.
My next experience with the Baluch would be years later, around 2007, out of the military for some 13 years and working as a security advisor to the media. We went from Afghanistan to Quetta, the capital city of the Pakistani Province of Baluchistan. The premise of the story was to find the Afghan Taliban and their leadership living on the edge of the city with many Afghan refugees. However whilst there, we got a lead into the Baluch story and their fight for Independence from Pakistan. At the time, the Governor was a Pashtun from Peshawar, a city in the north that would take you by road through the Khyber Pass into Afghanistan. So Baluchistan was being “ruled” by a non Baluch, which reminded me of many provinces inside of Afghanistan having governors who weren’t from the province that they were governing…not a good thing for a tribal society.
A Baluch local wearing his head dress in the typical Baluch style, Quetta, Baluchistan. 2007
So, from 17 years young to my mid 50s I’ve learnt about the Baluch people…from the Baluch people.
These latest tit for tat attacks from two giants of the Region, will undoubtedly be part of playing the game of Regional strategy and words will be said to one another, but it’s not a huge escalation, and sadly the only one’s to suffer will be the Baluch, who for decades have been fighting for freedom and the chance to have a say in Baluchistan matters, along with capitalizing from what’s under the ground, whether inside of Pakistan, Iran or Afghanistan.
Bob Shepherd 
A very good report bob I remember them well on the hedgehog,s