Khamenei’s assassination and the Gilgit–Skardu tragedy

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Rage, marginalisation and the politics of the periphery in Gilgit-Baltistan

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by Amin Beg

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When news spread of the reported assassination of Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatullah Ali Khamenei, in a US-Israeli bombing in Tehran early this month, grief and anger travelled far beyond the Middle East. In the Pakistan-administered region of Gilgit-Baltistan, those emotions erupted in a tragedy that left several young protesters and security personnel dead and public buildings destroyed.

What unfolded in Skardu and Gilgit on 1 March 2026 was not simply a spontaneous outburst. It reflected how communities living at the margins of political power often internalise distant geopolitical conflicts and express them locally through symbolic acts of resistance.

Gilgit-Baltistan occupies a unique and complicated political position within Pakistan. Governed federally but outside the country’s full constitutional framework, the region’s political life has long been shaped by debates about representation, rights and autonomy. At the same time, its diverse communities share strong religious traditions that often serve as powerful sources of solidarity across linguistic and geographic lines.

In such environments, collective emotions can quietly accumulate beneath everyday life. This is particularly true among young people confronting limited economic opportunities, rising expectations and few meaningful channels for political participation. When dramatic global or regional events occur, especially involving revered religious figures, those stored emotions can suddenly erupt in highly visible ways.

In Baltistan, the reported martyrdom of Rehbar-e-Muazam, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei carried particular symbolic weight. The region was historically known as Tibet-e-Khurd, or “Little Tibet”, and in later decades has sometimes been described informally as “Iran-e-Sagheer”, or “Little Iran”, reflecting strong religious and cultural affinities with Iran among sections of the population. For many followers who revered Khamenei as a Marja-e-Taqlid, religious guide, his assassination generated deep grief.

Mourning processions quickly merged with political protest. Demonstrations condemned the imperialist United States and Zionist Israel, expressing solidarity with Iran. In such emotionally charged environments, nearby institutions, government offices, security facilities, and even development organisations may be perceived as symbolic stand-ins for distant global actors beyond the reach of protesters.

Yet mass mobilisation in such contexts rarely emerges in isolation. It is shaped by religious authority, collective memory and the rapidly expanding influence of social media. Sermons, speeches, and online messaging help frame how communities interpret global events and connect them to historical narratives of justice, sacrifice and resistance.

However, when these narratives reach emotionally charged youth without structured civic guidance or organised political leadership, protests can quickly become volatile. Teenagers and young demonstrators may adopt the language of resistance without the strategic discipline required for sustained peaceful political action. In the digital age, protest can also become a performative expression of belonging within peer networks shaped by social media.

The events in Skardu and Gilgit demonstrate how rapidly protests can move beyond the control of their own organisers. As crowds grow and rhetoric intensifies, the boundaries between mourning, protest and destructive action can blur. Even respected religious authorities may struggle to guide younger participants mobilised through decentralised networks.

At the same time, serious questions arise regarding the preparedness and response of law enforcement agencies. Reports that live ammunition was used against protesters, resulting in the deaths of teenagers, are deeply troubling. An independent and transparent judicial investigation is essential to establish the facts, determine accountability and examine whether the use of force was lawful and proportionate.

Large demonstrations of grief and anger were not entirely unpredictable in cities such as Skardu and Gilgit, where authorities are aware of strong emotional connections to global religious figures and events. With earlier engagement, better administrative preparedness and closer coordination between officials and religious leaders, such emotions might have been channeled into peaceful mourning and protest, protecting both human lives and public institutions.

The tragedy reflects a deeper structural challenge facing regions like Gilgit-Baltistan. Communities here often find themselves navigating the intersection of global ideological conflicts, local grievances and fragile political institutions operating within a governance framework that many residents perceive as distant or exclusionary.

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Preventing similar crises requires rebuilding trust across society. Beyond a credible investigation, religious scholars, civil society leaders, youth representatives, women leaders, government officials and elected representatives of Baltistan should come together to reflect on what happened and explore how such situations can be prevented in the future.

Dialogue should also extend to key institutions that maintain strong relationships with local communities, including the army and development organisations that have contributed to the region’s social and economic development for decades. The trust built through these partnerships is a valuable social asset and must not be allowed to erode.

Unless deeper structural issues are addressed through inclusive governance, stronger civic engagement with youth and responsible leadership across institutions, similar flashpoints will continue to arise.

Caught between global geopolitical narratives, national political neglect and local frustrations, it is too often ordinary people, especially youth, who bear the highest cost.

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