Opinion | PoK: Against Army & Administration

The international community also has a role to play. It’s time to move beyond routine statements and take a closer look at the realities of PoK. Human rights organizations, diplomatic missions, and global media must ensure that the voices of the region are heard.

There is a storm brewing in the valleys of Pakistan-occupied Kashmir (PoK), a storm that has been gathering strength quietly over the years. What once began as whispers in tea stalls, as cautious murmurs in drawing rooms, has now taken the form of bold slogans, street protests, and online defiance. The people of PoK, long silenced under the shadow of the Pakistani military and an indifferent administration, are finally speaking up—and the world needs to listen.

To understand this growing dissatisfaction, one must first understand the unique tragedy of PoK. While Pakistan has always projected the region as its pride and an integral part of its national narrative, the truth on the ground tells a different story. For decades, the people here have felt like second-class citizens. They have lived under the constant presence of the military, not as protectors, but as overlords. Their natural resources have been exploited, their political voices stifled, and their economic growth deliberately suppressed in the name of “strategic interests.”
In recent months, frustration has boiled over. In Muzaffarabad, Rawalakot, Bagh, and several other towns across the region, people have been taking to the streets in numbers not seen before. What makes these protests significant is not just their size, but their boldness.
The slogans are no longer subtle. “Go back, Army!” “We want freedom from Islamabad!” “Stop stealing our resources!” These are not the cries of outsiders or agents, as the establishment often claims. These are the voices of ordinary citizens—students, shopkeepers, farmers, teachers—who are fed up.The military’s presence in PoK is not just about security. It extends into almost every aspect of life. It decides what can be said, where one can travel, who gets a job, and which infrastructure projects are greenlit. And while the generals and bureaucrats live in comfort, the locals are denied basic facilities like proper hospitals, schools, and roads. Many areas remain underdeveloped despite being rich in hydropower and minerals. So, when the people ask why they are still living in poverty while their resources light up cities in Punjab and Sindh, it’s a question that cuts deep.
But the anger isn’t directed at the military alone. The civilian administration, often handpicked and toothless, has failed miserably in addressing the needs of the people. Corruption is rampant. Files move at a snail’s pace unless palms are greased. Young people, educated and full of potential, are forced to migrate or take up odd jobs because there are simply no opportunities at home. Instead of providing governance, the administration has become a silent partner in the status quo—more concerned with pleasing Rawalpindi than serving the locals.
One cannot ignore the role of the media in all this. Mainstream Pakistani media has often looked the other way when it comes to the issues in PoK. The region is either romanticized or ignored entirely. Meanwhile, voices from the ground—activists, students, civil society members—have been labeled traitors, foreign agents, or simply silenced. Social media has emerged as a lifeline, a space where people can express themselves, but even here, surveillance and harassment are common. Online dissent can easily lead to offline consequences.
What’s different now is the unity. Earlier, protests were scattered, driven by isolated issues—electricity cuts, land disputes, water shortages. But now, there is a sense of shared anger, a collective realization that the root of their problems lies in systemic neglect and military overreach. PoK is no longer just grumbling; it is roaring. And this roar is not just for rights—it is for dignity.
Another key factor driving the current mood is the exposure to the world beyond. Despite Islamabad’s attempts to control the narrative, people in PoK see how others live, they read international news, they talk to their relatives across borders. They ask why they cannot have free elections, independent institutions, and genuine autonomy like any other democratic region. They know that change is possible, and they are demanding it with a clarity that is shaking the old order.
Predictably, the response from the authorities has been heavy-handed. Protest leaders have been arrested, rallies have been baton-charged, and attempts are being made to spread disinformation. But repression can no longer stop the tide. If anything, it’s adding fuel to the fire. The youth are particularly fearless. They know that the risks are real, but so is their resolve.
It would be a mistake to dismiss this movement as temporary or externally influenced. The dissatisfaction in PoK is homegrown, rooted in decades of neglect, and driven by the universal human desire for justice and respect. What we’re witnessing is not just a series of protests—it is a political awakening.
Pakistan’s rulers, especially its military elite, need to understand that loyalty cannot be forced. It must be earned. And they’ve failed on that count in PoK. The sooner they realize that the era of blind obedience is over, the better. A genuine dialogue, constitutional reforms, end to military dominance, and empowerment of local voices are the only ways forward. Continuing with coercion will only deepen the divide.
The international community also has a role to play. It’s time to move beyond routine statements and take a closer look at the realities of PoK. Human rights organizations, diplomatic missions, and global media must ensure that the voices of the region are heard. The people of PoK are not asking for charity—they are demanding what is rightfully theirs: freedom from fear, dignity in governance, and control over their own destiny.
The story of PoK is changing. No longer is it just a pawn in regional politics. It is a place where people are asserting themselves, challenging narratives, and standing up for their rights. The Pakistani establishment may have silenced them for a long time, but now, their voice is too loud to ignore.
And that voice is clear: enough is enough.
Author Syed Jahanzeeb is a freelance journalist and commentator who writes on political affairs, conflict zones, and civil rights in South Asia, documenting stories from the ground.He can be reached on email: syedjahanzeeb2@gmail.com