Balochistan, Pakistan’s largest province by land area and richest in natural resources, is once again facing a complete suspension of mobile internet service. The provincial government has blocked access until August 31, citing the need to disrupt communication between militants and maintain law and order. While authorities defend the measure as a security necessity, residents and rights advocates argue the internet ban is deepening mistrust, marginalization, and economic hardship in a province already struggling with insurgency, underdevelopment, and isolation.
Balochistan borders Iran and Afghanistan and sits at the heart of the $62 billion China-Pakistan Economic Corridor (CPEC). Its Gwadar port is touted as the flagship of the project, envisioned to connect China’s Xinjiang region with the Arabian Sea. Yet despite its strategic significance, Balochistan remains Pakistan’s most underdeveloped province, where governance failures and heavy-handed security measures have long fueled resentment.
Chief Minister Sarfaraz Bugti has argued that “anti-Pakistan foreign powers” are funding small militant groups under the guise of nationalism, warning that their actions will only lead to a “futile war.”
But Baloch activists say the heavy government repression is fueling discontent and inadvertently feeding the militancy. Now the blanket internet ban has sparked criticism from within the province.
Digital rights advocate Usama Khilji raised concerns that internet suspensions deepen the digital divide in Pakistan, particularly in remote areas. He argued that internet suspensions undermine the government’s promises of a “Digital Pakistan.” With such shutdowns, he said, digital advancement will remain impossible.
Khilji also stressed that the economy also suffers, as so much of people’s employment and income depends on the internet and mobile connectivity. He noted that daily wage earners in the gig economy, as well as Pakistan’s large freelance community, are among the worst affected by such bans.
The economic implications are far-reaching. Pakistan’s gig economy – drivers, couriers, and food delivery workers – depend on mobile connectivity. Small businesses, especially women-led online ventures, are cut off from customers. Students lose access to online education, while health services relying on telecommunication falter. Without connectivity, ride-hailing drivers, food delivery riders, and freelancers are left without work.
Journalist Imtiaz Baloch echoed these concerns, saying the ban disrupts freelancers’ income, hinders residents’ access to services, and prevents riders from navigating and fulfilling orders. He added that transport disruptions have also caused flight ticket prices to skyrocket, further burdening residents.
Baloch suggested that instead of blanket bans, authorities could target specific conflict zones, enhance cyber-monitoring, deploy rapid-response security teams, and invest in community-based intelligence to maintain both safety and connectivity.
Political rights activist Muzammil Kakar emphasized that social media is the only space where Baloch voices can be heard, since mainstream media largely ignores the province. “Blocking the internet will only create resentment against the government and widen the trust deficit between Balochistan and the federation,” he said.
This perception of unequal treatment is not new. Many Baloch believe that policies are enforced far more aggressively in their province than in Punjab or Sindh, deepening a sense of alienation from Islamabad.
Khilji described internet shutdowns as a “gross violation of fundamental rights.” He pointed out that Pakistan is bound by international human rights law, including Article 19 of the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR), which requires restrictions on free expression to be legal, necessary, and proportionate.
Balochistan already faces a fragile digital landscape, with low connectivity and weak infrastructure compared to Punjab or Sindh. Each shutdown deepens this divide, effectively locking the province into cycles of underdevelopment.
The irony is striking: while Islamabad markets Pakistan as a growing IT hub to attract global investment, its largest province remains digitally strangled.
Internationally, Pakistan is not alone. Governments from India to Ethiopia have used digital blackouts as security tools. But the global trend has drawn criticism from rights groups and U.N. agencies, who warn that such measures erode trust in institutions and harm vulnerable communities.
For the people of Balochistan, the internet is not just about convenience. It is their only link to opportunity, representation, and visibility. Each blackout denies them those basic rights, further isolating them from the rest of Pakistan.