RUTHFULLY YOURS

ISLAMABAD — The workshop was nothing more than a room carved out of metal and concrete. A few oil drums, rusted toolboxes, and eight tattered mattresses stood lined up against the wall. These were not barracks or hideouts—just a makeshift dormitory for eight Pakistani laborers who had crossed into Iran looking for honest work. That night, they were exhausted after working through the day repairing broken-down trucks in the remote Iranian village of Haiz Abad. They had no enemies, no weapons — just calloused hands and quiet dreams of returning home with enough money to feed their families. But as they slept on April 12, darkness brought something other than rest.

The eight men — citizens of Pakistan, fathers, sons, brothers — were found with their hands bound, and their bodies riddled with bullets. Executed. Slaughtered. Their corpses were discovered in the same positions in which they had gone to sleep, the narrow room now soaked in red. The murderers? The Baloch Nationalist Army (BNA) — a terrorist outfit long known to have sanctuaries inside Iranian territory — was quick to claim responsibility. They had carried out the massacre on Iranian soil. And Iran’s regime, days later, still has no answers, no arrests, no accountability.

But across the border in Pakistan, there were answers — fury, grief, and a growing demand for justice. The killings sent shockwaves through the nation. Social media was ablaze within hours. Television anchors abandoned their planned segments to address the massacre. And in Pakistan’s Balochistan Province, where most of the victims hailed from, families buried their loved ones under cloudy skies and with prayers that turned quickly into protests.

One widow, her face covered with a floral chador, stood outside her small brick house in Bahawalpur, a city in the south of Punjab Province, and sobbed into the microphone of a local news station. “This is not just a security failure,” she said. “This is an attack on our national dignity. My husband went to Iran to earn livelihood for our kids. He repaired engines, not politics. What was his crime?”

Her words captured the soul of a nation in mourning. They were echoed, again and again, by politicians, columnists, and ordinary citizens who see this not merely as a tragedy, but as a test. A test of whether the Pakistani state will protect its people even when they are murdered across the border. A test of whether the country can afford to stay silent when its citizens are executed like animals — while their murderers remain free, just miles away.

This was not the first time Pakistani blood has been spilled across the Iranian border. It was not even the first time in the past year. But this — this act of premeditated murder against civilians — feels different. It was not war. Those killed were not soldiers. It was not a clash. It was a calculated statement by the BNA, made with bullets instead of words: “We can kill your people, even in their sleep.”

Pakistanis are asking why these terrorists, these enemies of peace, continue to find shelter inside Iran. For years, groups like the BNA and its sibling, the Balochistan Liberation Army (BLA), have launched attacks inside Pakistan — on security forces, civilians, and infrastructure — only to disappear across the border. The Pakistani state has repeatedly provided to Tehran dossiers, satellite intelligence, and even intercepted communications. The message was always the same: These are not shadows. These are real people, with real weapons, planning real attacks — from your soil.

On January 18, 2024, Pakistan lost patience. After a series of deadly attacks on its security personnel in Balochistan, Pakistan launched precision strikes targeting terrorist hideouts inside Iranian territory. These were not casual operations — they were carefully coordinated responses aimed at known camps. The message was unmistakable: If Iran cannot or will not stop these groups, Pakistan reserves the right to defend its citizens, even beyond its borders.

And now, after this massacre, the question returns: Will Pakistan act again?

Public pressure is rising like a tide. In Lahore, demonstrators held up signs that read, “Pakistani Blood Is Not Cheap.” In Quetta and Bahawalpur, people are taking to the streets and chanting slogans for justice. Television hosts no longer speak in cautious tones; they demand action. Online, thousands of Pakistanis are asking a single question: How long will Islamabad stay silent?

“The people have awakened,” said one activist in Karachi. “We demand Iran conduct a full and transparent investigation. We demand they bring the culprits to justice. If not, Pakistan must act.”

The state has taken some diplomatic steps. A strong démarche was issued to Tehran. Statements were made from the Foreign Office. The Prime Minister’s Office called the killings “unacceptable” and promised that “no stone would be left unturned in seeking justice.” But the stone of justice is heavy, and for many Pakistanis, these words feel too familiar — too often spoken, too rarely followed with resolve.

Aamir Ghauri, an expert in foreign policy and geopolitics, and founder-director of London-based South Asia Future Forum told Gatestone:

“These killings can open a new can of worms for both Tehran and Islamabad. Groups that claim responsibility for such terror acts across Pakistan-Iran bordering areas are hitherto unknown. Admission by an insignificant Baloch militant outfit like BNA carry more questions than answers. Possibility of a larger plot by more sophisticated and sinister forces cannot be ruled out.”

Behind the scenes, officials acknowledge the seriousness of the moment. There is discussion not just about diplomacy, but about deterrence. Last year’s strikes proved that Pakistan is willing to act when provoked. Yet what happened this month was not just provocation — it was murder. Not soldiers in uniform, but laborers in their sleep. Not confrontation, but execution.

“This isn’t about retaliation,” said a former Pakistani diplomat who had served in Iran for years. “It’s about prevention. If Iran will not dismantle these terror networks, then Pakistan must. Otherwise, how many more of our people will die?”

It is not just security experts sounding the alarm. Even seasoned diplomats, long champions of regional cooperation, are beginning to shift in tone.

“We cannot be the only ones playing by the rules,” one former ambassador said bluntly. “We cannot continue to absorb these shocks while smiling across the table. Our goodwill is being tested beyond its limits.”

The intelligence is already available. Pakistani security forces have spent years mapping the network of camps, supply routes, and safe houses used by groups like BNA and BLA. Many of these are just across the border in Iran’s Sistan-Balochistan Province — an area historically neglected by Tehran and increasingly used as a launchpad for anti-Pakistan militancy. While Iran claims to combat terrorism within its borders, it is clear that significant blind spots — or willful negligence — remain.

The real tragedy here, beyond the murders themselves, is the predictability of it all. Pakistani laborers in border provinces are often forced by economic desperation to seek work in Iran. They travel without security. They live in open camps. They are easy targets. And groups like BNA, craving international headlines and political leverage, see them as disposable. A press release. A body count. A message scrawled in blood.

This time, the message has backfired. Murdering labourers inside Iran has made millions of Pakistanis furious. This anger, if ignored, may become policy.

Among the families of the deceased, the grief is laced with a desperate, burning question: Will this country let our dead be forgotten? A father in Multan, in southern Punjab Province, waiting for dead body of his only son, said quietly to a local reporter, “They were slaughtered like sheep. If we stay silent now, it means we are sheep too.”

The Iranian regime, meanwhile, remains cagey. Their official statement condemned the attack but offered little detail about any arrests or investigations. There has been no public mention of the BNA’s claim of responsibility, no signal that they intend to hand over suspects. For Pakistan, this ambiguity is an insult.

Friendship, Pakistanis now believe, must be mutual. If Iran considers Pakistan a partner in regional peace, then it must also respect its pain, and acknowledge its dead. A true friend does not provide sanctuary to your enemies.

The international community has remained muted. Western governments — so quick to condemn terrorism elsewhere — have yet to speak out. There have been no statements from the UN.

Research done by this correspondent and off-the record conversations with high-ranking Pakistani government officials have revealed that Pakistan is taking the matter seriously. In Islamabad, the Foreign Office is reportedly considering a range of responses, from diplomatic measures to more direct action. Security officials are reviewing border protocols and intelligence sharing. Among cabinet members, there is now open debate: What is the cost of silence? What is the risk of restraint?

Over the rugged borderlands of Balochistan, there is little comfort in condolences. The real comfort — if it can ever come — will arrive only when Pakistan asserts, in deed not word, that its citizens matter, and that those who are murdering them, whether at home or abroad, will be found. And punished.

A senior government official stated to this correspondent:

“This is not just a moment of mourning. It is a moment of reckoning. A test of national resolve. The lines have been drawn not by maps but by martyrdom. The people of Pakistan are watching, waiting, and demanding: Pakistan cannot let its citizens’ blood dry on foreign soil. Pressure is mounting on us to respond to terrorists who are taking refuge inside Iran. Pakistan will definitely act but at an appropriate time.”

Kaswar Klasra is a veteran Pakistani journalist and the founding editor-in-chief of The Islamabad Telegraph, a publication recognized for its in-depth coverage of global affairs, geopolitics, and human rights issues. With more than 19 years of experience, Klasra has contributed to numerous international media outlets, including NBC, the South China Morning Post, The Nation (Pakistan), Global Asia (South Korea), Bild ( Germany) and the Los Angeles Times.