Unraveling the Missing Persons Crisis: Realities, Misconceptions, and the Path to Resolution
The issue of missing persons has become one of the most sensitive and complex human rights challenges in Pakistan, particularly in Balochistan. For many, it represents not only a legal and political crisis, but also a deeply personal one.
Thousands of families remain trapped in a cycle of grief, uncertainty, and silence—unsure of the fate of their loved ones. While it is often treated as a peripheral issue in the national discourse, the reality is that resolving the missing persons crisis could mark a turning point in addressing the broader Balochistan question.
Interestingly, the phenomenon of enforced disappearances did not originate in Balochistan. It first appeared in Punjab and other regions, especially after 9/11, when Pakistan recalibrated its internal security strategy to meet international counterterrorism expectations. However, Balochistan has since become the epicenter of this crisis—largely due to its history of insurgency, underdevelopment, and alienation from the federal mainstream.
Contrary to popular belief, the majority of enforced disappearances are not necessarily the result of deliberate policy. In many cases, individuals find themselves “disappeared” due to structural deficiencies in Pakistan’s criminal justice system. Two key weaknesses stand out: weak investigative processes and incompetent or under-resourced prosecution services. Many arrests are made without sufficient evidence. Law enforcement agencies often act on incomplete or intelligence-based leads, without building a prosecutable case. Even when suspects are apprehended, a lack of preparation, poor training, and political pressure mean that cases collapse in court.
As a result, instead of following legal procedures, state actors may resort to extrajudicial methods—either to extract information or sideline perceived threats—further eroding the rule of law and public trust.
It’s also important to acknowledge a reality often overlooked: not everyone reported as “missing” is actually a victim of enforced disappearance. Some individuals, especially young men, voluntarily leave their homes in search of better opportunities abroad—sometimes without informing their families—due to a lack of economic prospects or personal reasons. Years later, some return, while others remain abroad permanently. In the meantime, their families, left in anguish and uncertainty, become vulnerable to manipulation. Anti-state elements often exploit their grief and confusion, using their pain as a tool to mobilize sentiment against the state and fuel propaganda campaigns that distort facts and deepen the divide.
To break this pattern, we must first address the root causes within our justice system: reform the investigative capacity of police and counterterrorism departments; train prosecutors to handle high-stakes national security cases professionally; and ensure that every arrested individual is presented before a court of law within the constitutionally mandated timeframe.
The existing Commission of Inquiry on Enforced Disappearances, formed in 2011, has failed to inspire confidence. Its limited powers, opaque processes, and perceived bias have made it ineffective in resolving cases or delivering justice.
A new approach is needed. The way forward requires dissolving the current commission and replacing it with a genuinely independent and representative body. This body should include key stakeholders—such as the Baloch Yakjehti Committee (BYC), Voice of Missing Persons, and other credible civil society organizations. International human rights organizations and neutral observers can also be invited to participate in advisory or monitoring roles—not to undermine national sovereignty, but to ensure credibility, transparency, and international confidence. It’s important to recognize that much of Pakistan’s criticism on this issue globally stems not from facts alone, but from the perception of impunity. Changing that perception is essential.
The missing persons debate in Pakistan is often marked by extremes—either blind support for state narratives or wholesale condemnation of national institutions. This binary approach leaves little room for genuine dialogue, truth-seeking, or reconciliation.
What we need instead is a national conversation rooted in fact, empathy, and constitutional responsibility. This can be achieved through public seminars and community town halls, particularly in affected regions, to address myths, misreporting, and exaggerated narratives. Closed-door policy roundtables should bring together law enforcement, civil society, legal experts, and families of the missing to co-design legal frameworks and protocols. Educational campaigns, especially in universities and media, can help explain legal rights, arrest procedures, and the role of institutions.
Only through transparency and engagement can we begin to replace fear with understanding.
Any serious effort to address enforced disappearances must also look beyond the security dimension. The crisis cannot be resolved without tackling the deeper grievances that have fueled alienation and conflict in Balochistan: historical marginalization and lack of political representation, economic exclusion and failure to deliver basic services, and cultural suppression and the erosion of local identity.
The missing persons issue is not just a law and order problem—it is a symptom of a much larger fracture between the state and parts of its citizenry. Healing that fracture requires a multi-pronged strategy of reconciliation, constitutional empowerment, and inclusive development.
If handled with wisdom and sincerity, the missing persons issue could be transformed from a national tragedy into a historic opportunity for reconciliation. It offers the state a chance to rebuild trust, strengthen its legitimacy, and reassert its commitment to constitutionalism and human dignity.
Rather than treating the issue as a threat, it must be seen as a test of our democratic maturity and moral resolve. It is time we stopped managing this problem in the shadows—and started confronting it in the open.