Blood in the Canals: Love Affair between Peoples Party and Sindh gets Bitter

In the dusty heat of Moro taluka, blood has mixed with the waters of progress. On a scorching afternoon this week, a protest against Sindh’s contentious six-canal project and expanding corporate farming turned into a battlefield. Two young men, brothers in arms and blood, were killed, scores injured, and the facade of peace carefully curated by the Pakistan Peoples Party (PPP) cracked under the weight of rage and resistance.

The dead have names: Irfan Laghari and Zahid Laghari. Both were local activists, known among Sindhi nationalist circles. “They were not terrorists. They were sons of this soil, defending their land,” sobbed Najeeb Laghari, a cousin, outside the bloodstained steps of Moro’s government hospital.

What began as a peaceful sit-in on the National Highway by Sindhi nationalist groups, including banned outfits like Jeay Sindh Qaumi Mahaz (JSQM) and Sindhu Desh Revolutionary Army (SDRA) sympathizers, escalated rapidly. Police attempted to disperse demonstrators using batons, tear gas, and—according to eyewitnesses—live rounds. Trucks were looted, vehicles torched, and the symbolic climax came when protesters stormed the residence of Sindh Home Minister Ziaul Hassan Lanjar. “We burned the lies they told us,” said one protester who requested anonymity. “We warned them. They didn’t listen.”

The Backdrop: Seeds of Discontent

The unrest did not erupt in a vacuum. The six-canal project, part of the provincial government’s ‘Agri-Economic Revival Plan’, is being promoted as a solution to food insecurity and rural underdevelopment. The plan aims to construct six new irrigation canals to divert water to “high-potential farming zones,” earmarked primarily for large-scale corporate agricultural ventures.

Local farmers, however, see this as an existential threat. “It’s not development; it’s dispossession,” said Professor Khalid Memon, an agricultural economist at Sindh University. “The land isn’t being farmed by locals. It’s being handed over to corporate giants, many of whom are backed by political heavyweights or army-linked consortia. This is not about food—it’s about power.”

Documents obtained by this reporter reveal that several of these corporate contracts are being awarded to shadowy firms with links to PPP-affiliated businessmen and land developers with military ties. One such entity, Sindh AgriTech Holdings, is co-managed by a former provincial minister’s son.

The six-canal project, part of Pakistan’s Green Pakistan Initiative (GPI), aims to construct six new canals from the Indus River to irrigate approximately 4.8 million acres of barren land across the country. The estimated cost of the project has escalated from an initial Rs. 218 billion to at least Rs. 225 billion, with further increases likely. The project was submitted to the Executive Committee of the National Economic Council (ECNEC) for approval .

The Sindh government signed an agreement with Green Corporate Initiative (Private) Limited, an army-backed company, to hand over 52,000 acres of land in six districts for corporate farming. This initiative aims to modernize agriculture and ensure food security. The involvement of military-affiliated entities has raised concerns among local communities and nationalist groups, who view this as a move towards the militarization of agriculture and a threat to provincial autonomy.

As per the documents obtained by this scribe, the Green Corporate Initiative (GCI) operates under the Green Pakistan Initiative, a joint effort between the Pakistan Army and the Government of Pakistan to modernize agriculture through corporate farming. Pakistan is certainly not the first one to take such an initiative, as similar initiatives have been taken across other countries, as shown in the table below.  To understand its global positioning, here’s a comparison with similar initiatives worldwide:

Industry experts familiar with global developments and initiatives believe that Pakistan’s GCI is industry-centric, unlike Mexico and Kenya, which balance corporate and consumer incentives. China and Brazil focus on tech-driven farming, while Pakistan relies on traditional land leasing models. Turkey and Kenya integrate renewable energy incentives, whereas Pakistan lacks consumer-driven sustainability measures.

Under the GCI operational mandate, it acquires culturable wastelands on 30-year leases under Joint Venture agreements. Under the agreement, investors do not directly negotiate with provincial governments, rather GCI acts as the sole intermediary. The initiative is backed by the Pakistan Army, ensuring political stability but also military influence in decision-making. The project is set to offer tax exemptions and preferential land access to the investors. Foreign investors, particularly from Saudi Arabia and China, seems to have expressed interest.

The project has received support from high-ranking officials, as General Asim Munir and Punjab Chief Minister Maryam Nawaz Sharif, who jointly launched the Green Pakistan Initiative in Cholistan, Punjab. The federal government’s push for the project, despite strong opposition from the Sindh government and nationalist groups, has led to political tensions within the ruling coalition, with the Pakistan Peoples Party (PPP) publicly opposing the initiative.

For many Sindhis, canals and dams are not just infrastructure, they are trauma triggers. The ghost of the Kalabagh Dam, fiercely opposed in Sindh for decades, looms large. The canal project, though smaller in scale, is viewed through the same lens: as a Punjab-centric hegemony project cloaked in economic jargon. “First it was Kalabagh, now it’s canals. Same story, different disguise,” said Bashir Qambrani, a JSQM spokesperson. “This is water colonialism.”

The End of Sindh’s Love Affair with PPP?

The PPP, which has ruled Sindh for decades, finds itself cornered. Known for its populist roots and Bhutto legacy, the party is now being accused of betraying its base. “The Bhuttos talked about ‘Roti, Kapra aur Makaan’ (food, clothing, shelter). Today, Zardari’s party is taking away all three,” said a local journalist from Hyderabad who asked to remain anonymous due to threats. “What’s worse is the media blackout. National channels were told not to report the protest. The only footage you’ll find is on independent social media accounts, and even those are being taken down.”

A senior police official in Sukkur admitted under condition of anonymity: “We were ordered to break the protest, not negotiate. The instructions came from the top—from Karachi.”

Ziaul Hassan Lanjar, already a controversial figure with past corruption charges, now finds himself at the center of a political storm. His residence was ransacked, air conditioners thrown from the roof like modern-day guillotines. While his private guards fired warning shots, the symbolism wasn’t lost on anyone. This was not just an angry mob—it was a rebellion against political feudalism.

“The PPP doesn’t realize that the ground beneath their feet is shifting,” said Professor Ayesha Soomro, a political scientist in Jamshoro. “They are clinging to rural patronage networks, but the younger generation is more ideologically driven. They’re angry. And armed, not with guns—but with history and hashtags.”

This incident may mark a turning point in Sindh’s political landscape. Once the heartland of Bhutto worship, rural Sindh is showing signs of fracture. A silent political evolution is underway—from patronage to protest, from slogans to social media mobilization.

Nationalist parties, once fringe movements, are gaining legitimacy among the youth. Analysts warn that continued suppression could radicalize more activists, pushing them into separatist rhetoric and insurgent pathways.

The PPP, for all its populist branding, now faces a generational legitimacy crisis.

“The bodies of Irfan and Zahid may be buried,” said a Moro elder at the protest site, “but their blood has irrigated the seeds of revolution.”

Multiple senior producers from national networks privately confirmed receiving “verbal advisories” from PEMRA officials to avoid airing “content that could incite ethnic tensions.” In other words: protect the ruling party’s narrative.

Editor’s Note: This is an independently verified investigative piece. All efforts have been made to protect sources, due to the sensitive nature of this report.