‘Gandum Subsidy Tehreek’ (Wheat Subsidy Movement) stands as thelargest protest in the history of Gilgit Baltistan region. At its height, it spanned every area and involved hundreds of thousands of people — men, women, children, Shia, Sunni, Ismaili, Noorbakshi, Balti, Burusho, Wakhi, Yasini, Puniali, Astori, Shin, Pathan, Kashgari, Gujjar, Chilasi and Dareli.
In Skardu city in Baltistan, thousands camped day and night — likewise in Gilgit City, in Hunza, in Taus Yasin, Gahkuch, Nasirabad, Aaliabad, Ghulmet, Chilas, Gorikot, Jaglot, and other towns. People set up camps and blocked the Karakoram Highway from commercial traffic. They stayed despite threats, the loss of income, and harsh weather conditions. The people were united across gender, ethnic, and religious categories — and as we know, when that happens, they cannot be defeated.
Bread and Sovereignty
The movement was led by Ehsan Ali through the organisation Gilgit Baltistan Awami Action Committee (GB-AAC). Eshan Ali has been the leading political activist of Gilgit-Baltistan for five decades. His early years followed a familiar path for his generation: he went to Peshawar for his studies, where, as a teenager, he was inspired by the militant activists of the Mazdoor Kisan Party—revolutionaries who had seized land from landlords through armed struggle. In 1977, he moved to Karachi for further education. It was there that his political ideas solidified. Immersed in the global currents of decolonization and the rise of Third World movements, Eshan joined left-wing student politics and soon after, the communist movement.
The list of organisations he has founded and worked with is long. As a student, he launched the Gilgit-Baltistan Student Front (1979–80s), which campaigned for scholarships and housing for G-B students. Simultaneously, he became a member of the Communist League, an underground group that had split from the Communist Party of Pakistan. After graduating, he founded the Gilgit-Baltistan Democratic Front to fight for the region’s constitutional and economic rights. In late 1986, Eshan returned to Gilgit-Baltistan and began practising law—while continuing his activism. After the Communist League dissolved, he joined the Labour Party of Pakistan in 2000.
Since his return, Eshan has been involved in nearly every progressive movement in the region. He has opposed what he calls the ‘granite block’—a nexus of the local elite (descendants of Mirs and Rajas), the Pakistani bureaucracy, and their military patrons. He has resisted them in courtrooms and in the streets, in townhouses and village courtyards. In meeting after meeting, he has propagated democratic self-rule and socialism. He has contested elections not to win, but to spread his ideas. He has been a constant presence in grassroots struggles up and down the region, holding hundreds of political education sessions with the youth, and fighting pro bono legal cases for the poor, for women, and for fellow political activists.
To stop him, the Riyasat of Pakistan has used every tool of repression. He was accused of blasphemy—an unprecedented move—but local Islamic scholars refused to back the charges, and the case collapsed. Still, he has faced 16 FIRs and 6 sedition charges, been arrested five times and tortured in custody. His character has been vilified in the press for decades. And yet, he persists. Even today, he travels across the region to attend protests and meetings, or dons his black lawyer’s coat to fight for the release of political prisoners. For fifty years, he has remained on the frontlines.
The reason for the protest was simple: bread. Gilgit Baltistan had come to overwhelmingly rely on imported wheat at subsidised prices from the lowlands of Pakistan.
This wasn’t always the case. In the 1950s, for example, Hunza produced 75% of its own wheat requirements locally. It was not reliant on subsidies. But over time, social engineering by the Pakistani bureaucracy — in collaboration with the Aga Khan Development Network — changed that.
In the 1970s, the Karakoram Highway was built to tie the region to the lowlands. Bureaucrats encouraged locals to shift from growing wheat and barley to cash crops like cherries, apples, and potatoes — which could be sold downstream. This benefited everyone but the locals.
Farmers in Punjab sold wheat to the state, which was then distributed to Gilgit Baltistan at subsidised rates. What appeared to be an act of benevolence was, in reality, a subsidy for Punjab’s farmers. Gilgit Baltistan lost its food sovereignty. Wheat is consumed locally but imported. Cherries and apples are produced locally but consumed elsewhere. The people were made dependent on bureaucrats and politicians for their bread.
Today, all administrative districts in Gilgit Baltistan — Ghizer, Gilgit, Skardu, Ghanche, Astore, Diamer — are listed as extremely deficient in wheat production and are ‘food insecure’. GB has only 4.37% wheat self-reliance, which can feed the local population for just 16 days.
Taking away the wheat subsidy was a violation of the unspoken social contract: the people give water and roads; the state gives wheat. As many philosophers have noted, when the sovereign breaks the contract — particularly where bread is concerned — revolution is not only a right, it is an obligation. Ehsan Ali was the first to realise this and act.
The Granite Block
The wheat subsidy was incrementally withdrawn by the PPP government in 2011 under IMF dictates. In 2009, the price of a 100kg bag of wheat flour was Rs 820. By 2014, it had shot up to Rs 1400.
This near-doubling of price devastated working families. Wheat is a staple. A household of five can consume 20kg per month.
The first organised protest began in Yasin, where 10,000 people marched to Grachhu, the district capital. But on 16 August 2012, tragedy struck. Twenty-five Shia passengers travelling from Gilgit to Islamabad were executed by unknown assailants after being separated from Sunnis on a bus. The protest paused in mourning.
The state used the incident to impose a militarised counterinsurgency architecture: check-posts, curfews, increased surveillance. Division along sectarian lines deepened. Unity for class struggle vanished. The infant wheat movement collapsed.
The Lawyer
In January 2014, sporadic protests resumed. Small, scattered — and often shut down by police. Ehsan Ali saw that unless these were united and centrally organised, they would fail.
Ehsan led the Inqilabi Socialist Party — a small left group that had long supported people’s movements in the region. Recognising their limited capacity, Ehsan built a broader platform: the Awami Action Committee – Gilgit Baltistan.
Initially, comrades from the Johar Ali Memorial Society joined. They travelled across the region — from Yasin to Ghizer, Aliabad to Gilgit — forming committees, training locals, and connecting protest sites. It was grueling work. Ehsan told me:
“Although government institutions and NGOs say there’s been development and luxury cars have increased, the reality is the opposite. A small number have become wealthy, but the majority rely on wheat subsidy to survive. I saw firsthand: people eat wheat-bread with tea for every meal. There is no alternative. This was a movement from the grassroots and the lower class, in the truest sense.”
As momentum grew, Ehsan reached out to nationalist and religious groups. He built alliances with second and third-tier leaders, forcing even conservative organisations to join the protests. By March 2014, the Awami Action Committee included 23 groups — religious, nationalist, and leftist.
In a region plagued by sectarianism, such unity was revolutionary.
The Demands
They hit the streets, educated the public, and distributed a leaflet with the following demands:
- Restore wheat price to Rs 820 per 100kg, as in 2009
- Immediate restoration of subsidies on oil, PIA fares, and other items
- Free healthcare: abolish hospital fees and provide free medicine
- Lift ban on mineral transportation; end leases to non-local companies
- Accept the demands of people affected by the Diamer-Bhasha Dam
- End illegal hiring in departments; fill positions on merit
- End load-shedding
- Withdraw taxes based on “No Taxation without Representation”
- Resolve border disputes and protect GB’s borders
The General Strike
On 10 March 2014, Ehsan, as convener of the GB-AAC, called for a ‘wheel-jam and shutter-down’ strike. That meant: no vehicles on roads, no shops open.
It was a complete success. In all seven districts, commercial life halted. Updates from Pamir Times flowed in:
- 10:08am: Gilgit city closed, roads deserted
- 11:42am: Lawyers boycott courts
- 12:04pm: Skardu, Gahkuch, Khaplu, Hunza closed
- 02:15pm: Complete shutdown in Hunza; kids playing cricket on the highway
- 12:45pm: Gahkuch bazaar crowded with protesters
- 3:45pm: Gilgit city and Danyore town shut down
Courts, schools, roads, shops — all voluntarily shut. The people had spoken. As Ehsan later recalled:
“Not a single shop was open; not even a pan shop. No vehicle moved. It was the first time in history that a general strike took place across every tehsil and village of GB. It was truly a movement of all Gilgit-Baltistan.”
The Response
The Pakistani state responded with fear. Five platoons of the Frontier Constabulary were deployed. Section 144 CrPC, a colonial-era law banning public gatherings, was imposed across GB for 30 days.
The Awami Action Committee refused to back down. They announced indefinite protests starting 15 April 2014 across all districts. Ehsan challenged Section 144 in court — and won permission to protest at four sites. But they protested at more.
Tens of thousands joined the sit-ins. Camps were established. The people were prepared to strike until their demands were met.
The movement was on. The IMF, the capitalists of Pakistan, and the Riyasat of Pakistan stood on one side; on the other, the Awami Action Committee led by Eshan Ali and the lower classes of Gilgit-Baltistan. The events of 10th March rang alarm bells among the bureaucrats who governed GB. In response, they ordered five additional platoons of the Frontier Constabulary [a paramilitary force] to the region—an intimidation tactic, as the Awami Action Committee rightly interpreted it. But more was to come. The administration invoked Section 144 of the Criminal Procedure Code of 1898 (CrPC), prohibiting public gatherings, across all districts of Gilgit-Baltistan for 30 days. This colonial-era law, originally enforced by the British, was wielded again to silence dissent.
In defiance, the Awami Action Committee called for sit-ins and strikes across all districts of Gilgit-Baltistan to begin on 15th April. Eshan, a lawyer by profession, challenged the imposition of Section 144 in court. On 14th April, the court granted permission for protests at four designated sites. But the people had a broader vision. The movement was not going to be contained.
On 15th April 2014, indefinite protests erupted across Gilgit-Baltistan, each district’s main town becoming the centre of resistance. The sit-ins were to continue until the Awami Action Committee’s charter of demands was met. Tens of thousands gathered at the protest camps. The Karakoram Highway was shut down, traffic at a standstill. The leaders gave speeches, but the podiums remained open around the clock for the public. Hundreds of youth took to the mic, voicing dreams and grievances, forging a new generation of confident, articulate leadership. Shia and Sunni sat side by side, revolutionary politics outshining state-engineered sectarianism. Through the freezing nights, people guarded the camps. Local families created community kitchens, serving tea and food to the protestors. In the April cold of the mountains, thousands persisted into the second day, then the third.
In Skardu, tens of thousands came to hear fiery speeches, none more electric than those of Syed Haider Shah Rizvi, who would die under suspicious circumstances soon after. Many believed he was poisoned by agents of the Pakistani state. On that day, wrapped in a grey jacket, with jet-black beard and long hair, Rizvi stood atop a monument in -5°C and thundered:
Comrade Haider Shah Rizvi (HSR): Today, Islamabad is left with no option but to establish a local government modeled after Azad Jammu and Kashmir. It is our right! Indian Occupied Kashmir and Kargil-Ladakh have representation in their Lok Sabha and Rajya Sabha. Pakistan will offer a fake province and send a few puppets to the National Assembly—who will keep us hungry and unclothed. We reject a provisional province. We reject fake representation. We demand our own president, prime minister, judiciary, flag, and constitution, as in AJK.
Crowd chants: Hum Nahi Mante, Zulm K Ye Zabitay! (We reject the laws of oppression!)
HSR: The United Nations has offices in Gilgit and Skardu. Quaid-e-Azam and Nehru offered three choices: accession to Pakistan, to India, or complete independence. If you cannot accept us as Pakistanis, then in the name of Allah, leave us. We want our own state from Gilgit to Kargil.
These are schemes of America and China to colonize our land. They’ve taken Shandoor, Babusar, gifted Tyaksi and Chorbat to India, handed over parts of Kharmang and Gojal to foreign powers. Was it Haider Shah or my Balti people who committed this treason? No, it was your generals.
Crowd chants: Gaddar Numainday Murdabad! (Down with traitorous representatives!)
HSR: Our civilization is being erased—our languages, our cultures, our histories excluded from curricula. Do you think wheat is enough? Even animals eat wheat and grass. Humans need dignity, identity, and freedom.
Crowd chants: Beshak! (Indeed!)
HSR: Pakistan collects 25 billion rupees annually in sales tax from our markets. Give us half of that back, and keep your meagre budgets.
He went on to demand the inclusion of Baltistan’s issues in the Action Committee’s agenda—the rights of refugees from the Kargil conflict, fairer administrative divisions, and equitable representation. He ended with poetry:
Hoga Nahi Ab Hamara Guzara / Adha Tumhara, Adha Hamara (Such is no longer a way to get by / Give us half and keep the rest)
Baltistan Ka Hai Yeh Naara / Fifty-Fifty Hai Formula (This is Baltistan’s call / Fifty-fifty is the formula)
Meanwhile, in Gilgit, Eshan Ali reminded the crowd that the real assemblies were the people’s assemblies. Power lay with them. Despite economic hardship and the cold, tens of thousands stayed on into the fourth and fifth days. On the sixth, Shia and Sunni prayed together. By the seventh day, the sit-ins had become spaces of collective learning. The people were thinking, debating, organizing.
Panicked, the state searched for a solution. Section 144 was ignored. They announced a polo tournament—distraction in place of suppression. Eshan responded by calling for all protestors to converge in Gilgit and Skardu for massive dharnas.
On 20th April, tens of thousands travelled to the cities by any means possible—bikes, tractors, vans, on foot. In Gilgit alone, 40,000 to 50,000 arrived. The Karakoram Highway remained blocked. The region was in full strike.
Eshan, taking his cue from the people, addressed the massive crowd:
Eshan Ali: If they do not restore the subsidy in 48 hours, we will dismantle the assembly in Chinar Bagh and establish our people’s assembly in Ghari Bagh. Laws and policies will be made here, by the people. We will no longer be responsible for what happens after those 48 hours.
The crowd roared in agreement. The establishment panicked. Eshan recounted:
A helicopter carried the Northern Areas force commander to Rawalpindi. The corps commander met Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif and told him they were losing control. The PM ordered the governor of GB, himself a non-resident, to solve the crisis. They asked us to send a delegation to Rawalpindi. I opposed going. But others were tired and ready to compromise. I did not go. They went, and the subsidy was restored.
Eshan concluded:
When people unite and resist together, even military power must surrender to the will of the people.
The wheat subsidy was restored and remains to this day. The movement also dismantled sectarian barriers, forging unity across religious divides. Nearly a decade later, that unity endures. Eshan Ali—a Communist leader—led the people to victory. In other hands, the movement may not have succeeded.