The politics and people behind Balochistan, Pakistan’s internet shutdowns

“Balochistan is already under a media blackout,” says Amir Naeem, an aspiring journalism student from Panjgur. “Social media was the only source of information for the marginalized, but now even that has been silenced.”

The Panjgur district in Balochistan province in southern Pakistan has been without mobile internet for four years, he adds. “Pakistan Telecommunication Company Limited (PTCL) landline is the only option, but not everyone can afford it. It feels like we are living in the Stone Age in the era of AI.”

Amir’s situation is not unique, but part of a broader pattern in the region. Pakistan has developed a troubling reputation for normalizing internet shutdowns. In 2024 alone, the country experienced 18 deliberate shutdowns totalling 9,735 hours and affecting millions of users. Independent VPN review website Top10VPN ranked Pakistan third globally for shutdown duration (9,735 hours) in 2024 and estimated the economic loss at USD 1.62 billion.

On August 6, 2025, the Balochistan government ordered a province-wide suspension of mobile internet across all 36 districts of Balochistan, announcing that the blackout would remain until August 31. The move came alongside an existing ban on inter-city and interprovincial travel from 5 pm to 5 am, a combination that further deepens the province’s isolation.

August carries symbolic and political weight in Balochistan. Some insurgent groups mark August 11 as “Baloch Independence Day”; Pakistan’s national Independence Day falls on August 14. Historically, armed groups have escalated attacks around these dates.

National context, local consequences
Nationwide, shutdowns often coincide with sensitive political or religious events, public protests, and unrest. The Pakistan Telecommunication Authority has claimed localized restrictions are necessary for “national security.” Security services argue that limiting connectivity prevents militant coordination. Yet there is little public, verifiable evidence that blackouts stop attacks, and in many cases, the most serious incidents happen in areas that already lack internet.

For ordinary residents, the cost is immediate and concrete. Students miss online classes and exams. Small businesses and merchants lose income as they can’t access digital banking. Journalists cannot verify or file stories in real time. Humanitarian operations become harder to coordinate, and medical responses slow down. Social media, often the last available public platform for marginalized voices, is silenced. In a province already deprived of consistent connectivity, sweeping shutdowns deepen isolation, build resentment, and further alienate a population that already distrusts the state.

As one local told Global Voices on the condition of anonymity: “Whether one calls it collective punishment or equal treatment, the truth is that Balochistan’s only official identity has become ‘security concerns.’”

UN human rights experts, including Irene Khan, Special Rapporteur on freedom of opinion and expression, have warned that “repeated internet blackouts in Balochistan have impeded freedom of information, transparency, accountability, political participation, and civic space.”

A province kept offline
Internet and cellular services arrived in Balochistan later than in Pakistan’s other provinces, and in many areas, still remain minimal or nonexistent. For many, disconnection is not a temporary interruption but a semi-permanent condition, forcing people to live outside the digital world.

Remote areas such as Kolwah, Jhaoo, the Rakhshan belt, and Bolan face daily blackout-like conditions. In Kolwah (Awaran district), mobile networks operate on a strict 9 am–9 pm schedule controlled by the military. In Naal Greshag, networks are reportedly available only from 8 am to 4 pm; after that, residents walk miles to town centers or rely on a PTCL landline to get basic work done.

Nafeesa Baloch, a climate activist and founder of the Zameek community in Gwadar, told Global Voices via WhatsApp:

We are already living without basic amenities — water, electricity, gas, and now the internet shutdown has severed our vital connection to the world. I missed grant deadlines and could not communicate with international partners. This blackout did not just inconvenience us; it silenced our work.

History of shutdowns in Balochistan
Shutdowns in Balochistan province are not new. Authorities have repeatedly suspended services during politically or socially significant events. In March 2012, cellular services were suspended across the province on Pakistan Day. In July 2024, mobile and internet services were suspended on the 8th, 9th, and 10th of Muharram (the first month of the year in the Islamic calendar) in several districts, and services were cut during the elections in April 2024.

After a suicide bombing at Quetta Railway Station on November 9, 2024, services were suspended across multiple districts.

In March 2025, the Baloch Liberation Army briefly seized Machh town in Bolan district and hijacked the Jaffar Express, a passenger train commuting between Quetta and Peshawar, prompting more shutdowns.

In July 2025, the Balochistan Liberation Front reportedly carried out dozens of attacks in a matter of weeks in a campaign called Operation Baam, and in the process damaged communication towers, triggering further disruptions. Authorities say surges like this justify the strict measures. Yet if insurgents can operate in offline zones, wide-area blackouts may do more to punish civilians than to deter militants.

Authorities frame shutdowns as a security necessity. But the logic is strained when the province’s most serious militant attacks occur in places with little or no internet. Mountainous districts such as Chagai, Kharan, Panjgur, and Awaran have seen assaults on military convoys, attacks on Chinese engineers, bombings of gas pipelines, and even temporary seizures of towns, often in areas already offline.

This recurring pattern raises a stark question: Is the state relying on shutdowns because it cannot secure networks, or because separatist groups’ offline capabilities have grown? Either way, regular citizens are paying the price.

The unanswered questions
The persistence of militant operations despite internet shutdowns raises questions about their effectiveness. Can a province-wide blackout genuinely protect civilians? What legal safeguards exist to enhance connectivity security rather than remove it altogether? And what long-term strategy, if any, reconciles security imperatives with citizens’ rights?

Internationally, prolonged and repeated shutdowns raise alarm among digital rights advocates. In Balochistan, they also risk turning isolation into permanent exclusion, a widening gulf between the province and the rest of the country, both digitally and politically.

For many in Balochistan, connectivity is the last fragile bridge to the outside world. Each blackout shakes that bridge closer to collapse. The policy framed as a security measure now reads, for too many residents, like a tool of silencing.