The carnage which unfolded in Lahore following Tehreek-e-Labbaik Pakistan (TLP) chief Saad Hussain Rizvi’s arrest in April was a dispiriting reminder of just how little has changed in Pakistan through the years. Submitting to the whim of the fanatical right for the sake of political expediency has been the modus operandi of governments for years with dividends aplenty for vested interests. From countering secular-nationalist movements in the provinces to humiliating the PML-N government in Faizabad, extremist factions have been a reliable tool in fulfilling the state agenda. But the nation’s relationship with the far-right goes beyond the latter’s utility as a political instrument. It is foundational to its current existence. Take Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto, whose yielding to the right-wing after the systematic slaughter of the Ahmediyya in 1974 was marked with their declaration as non-Muslims. Since then, Ahmedis have not only been the perpetual victims of violence, but their very existence understood as slander the values of the nation. Today both the hatred for and the silence about Ahmedis have instituted a discursive practice that all but openly endorses their persecution. It is through such a practice, and many others like it, that Pakistan’s self-image grew into focus. In this way, the mullah-state alliance has birthed the closest thing to a national consciousness this country has and has contributed significantly to the popular conception of what it means to be a Muslim in Pakistan. TLP and its predecessors have done more to shape Pakistan’s self-image of an Islamic nation than any “democratically” elected leader or political party. Evidence can be found in the persecution of minority communities, in the sanctity of laws that today threaten our GSP privileges, and in the declaration of faith in our passport documents. To paraphrase the immortal words of a major general: “yeh tou apnay hee hain.” (they are our own). These words uttered in Faizabad perhaps perfectly sum up the current situation. When the TLP calls for blasphemers to be murdered, they do nothing more than call on the government to follow the law of the land and the principles said law espouses. The fact that these laws include the initiative of a dictator who abrogated the constitution is of little relevance.
If we can appreciate the role of such elements in erecting a national consciousness, it allows us to drastically re-configure our understanding of the riots in Lahore. Descriptors such as “radical Islamist” and “extreme right-wing” alone simply do not provide a sufficient explanation for how ordinary civilians felt emboldened to not only challenge but assault law enforcement officials. After all, could it really be that religious fervor explains why citizens armed with petrol bombs attacked Nawankot Police station and abducted 11 officers, including the superintendent? These explanations are not sensitive to the historical gravity of the events which have unfolded and reek of the old Orientalist tropes that describe Muslims as a hive-mind with a singular obsession with jihad and the death of infidels. Other explanations point to the familiar hand of the state pulling the strings, a historically reliable explanation that ultimately avoids the larger question. Such an explanation also treats all TLP workers and supporters as cunning political agents and therein grossly undermines their ideological influence. Whether the state has tacitly or otherwise allowed TLP to wield such immense power of mass mobilisation or whether it is an unintended consequence of their policies is irrelevant for it does not explain why ordinary citizens gravitate towards the TLP and its kind. To understand that, the violence of April must be understood as a symptom of the lack of avenues for political expression in Pakistan and the unwillingness of the state in strengthening participatory democracy. Disenfranchisement from the public sphere drove the crowds to the rallies, not the eloquence of Khadim Hussain Rizvi. Obscured in their chants is a deep-seated resentment against a status quo they feel helpless in changing. Political stagnation and economic crises continue to fuel this frustration. What TLP offers is a way for the voices of the people to be heard. It achieves this by conveniently adopting a grammar that has defined this country for decades, that of religious fundamentalism. That is the language the state understands and values for it has been so useful to them in the past. It is a language they have validated time and time again. As a result, TLP becomes the moral conscience of the nation, their cause being recognized by the state as fundamentally just.
Each time TLP forces have been mobilized there has been a call to (re)claim an identity that is being threatened which makes TLP one of the few parties actually concerned with what Pakistani identity should mean. In doing so, it relies on an ideology that has been built by decades of state cooperation with the religious right and provides people with an opportunity to metonymize themselves with the state of Pakistan in a way impossible in any other context. Consider as a contrast how brutally the state silences movements that center ethnic identity and movements that highlight government inaction in other areas such as in the case of missing persons. The disparity between the treatment of almost all mass movements other than those that resemble the TLP has a profound impact on the people. The majority acquiesces to state repression of all other forms of discourse and veers toward the only one that the state seems to respect, the only one that seems to get any attention at all, and the only one through which they can be heard.
That platform has the potential to allow the masses to vent their frustrations at how little control and worth they have in society. These frustrations appear as cries to protect the sanctity of Islam and are frequently expressed as majoritarian violence against vulnerable groups.
TLP is who the government is accountable to and is, therefore, the most effective political platform for the masses. The TLP worker burning cars is not a terrorist or a separatist but instead an outraged civilian who deserves to be heard. The most empowered Pakistani citizen is one who is willing to defend Islam against all threats foreign or domestic at any cost. Where that leaves the vulnerable religious minorities routinely accused of blasphemy and murdered in the streets is once more of little relevance.
It is no surprise then that PTI rhetoric echoes the exact same concerns that TLP has. Following the death of multiple police officers and injury to 700, one of Sheikh Rasheed’s first statements was that, “Prime Minister Imran Khan will himself spearhead a drive against blasphemous acts.” A tweet by the prime minister made it clear that any action against TLP was taken when and only because “they challenged the writ of the state,” the implication being clear that the government would never move against the group should they have simply stuck to their usual murderous rhetoric without assaulting police officers. At another point, he stated, supposedly as his version of a rebuke to the rioters that, “these protests and violence in our country, it won’t make a difference to the West, where this insulting happens.” Amidst calls to revoke our GSP status, Khan calls, “on Muslim-majority countries to band together to lobby European and other countries on the issue of perceived blasphemy” and in doing so, he endorses as national concern the agenda of the TLP. How then is TLP but a fringe group and not the ideological representatives of the nation?
In a country where movements for social justice, freedom of expression, and rights of marginalized people are met with unforgiving state repression, what does it mean for the TLP platform to achieve such success? It means the complete discrediting of all progressive movements in the eyes of the broader public, movements whose progress and influence pale in comparison to that of the TLP. Each time the government capitulates and panders to these groups, the message is sent loud and clear that if there is any platform that deserves the nation’s respect and recognition, it is the one whose sole mission is to see blasphemers hanged.
It is no surprise then that PTI rhetoric echoes the exact same concerns that TLP has
If we can appreciate the role of such elements in erecting a national consciousness, it allows us to drastically re-configure our understanding of the riots in Lahore. Descriptors such as “radical Islamist” and “extreme right-wing” alone simply do not provide a sufficient explanation for how ordinary civilians felt emboldened to not only challenge but assault law enforcement officials. After all, could it really be that religious fervor explains why citizens armed with petrol bombs attacked Nawankot Police station and abducted 11 officers, including the superintendent? These explanations are not sensitive to the historical gravity of the events which have unfolded and reek of the old Orientalist tropes that describe Muslims as a hive-mind with a singular obsession with jihad and the death of infidels. Other explanations point to the familiar hand of the state pulling the strings, a historically reliable explanation that ultimately avoids the larger question. Such an explanation also treats all TLP workers and supporters as cunning political agents and therein grossly undermines their ideological influence. Whether the state has tacitly or otherwise allowed TLP to wield such immense power of mass mobilisation or whether it is an unintended consequence of their policies is irrelevant for it does not explain why ordinary citizens gravitate towards the TLP and its kind. To understand that, the violence of April must be understood as a symptom of the lack of avenues for political expression in Pakistan and the unwillingness of the state in strengthening participatory democracy. Disenfranchisement from the public sphere drove the crowds to the rallies, not the eloquence of Khadim Hussain Rizvi. Obscured in their chants is a deep-seated resentment against a status quo they feel helpless in changing. Political stagnation and economic crises continue to fuel this frustration. What TLP offers is a way for the voices of the people to be heard. It achieves this by conveniently adopting a grammar that has defined this country for decades, that of religious fundamentalism. That is the language the state understands and values for it has been so useful to them in the past. It is a language they have validated time and time again. As a result, TLP becomes the moral conscience of the nation, their cause being recognized by the state as fundamentally just.
Each time TLP forces have been mobilized there has been a call to (re)claim an identity that is being threatened which makes TLP one of the few parties actually concerned with what Pakistani identity should mean. In doing so, it relies on an ideology that has been built by decades of state cooperation with the religious right and provides people with an opportunity to metonymize themselves with the state of Pakistan in a way impossible in any other context. Consider as a contrast how brutally the state silences movements that center ethnic identity and movements that highlight government inaction in other areas such as in the case of missing persons. The disparity between the treatment of almost all mass movements other than those that resemble the TLP has a profound impact on the people. The majority acquiesces to state repression of all other forms of discourse and veers toward the only one that the state seems to respect, the only one that seems to get any attention at all, and the only one through which they can be heard.
That platform has the potential to allow the masses to vent their frustrations at how little control and worth they have in society. These frustrations appear as cries to protect the sanctity of Islam and are frequently expressed as majoritarian violence against vulnerable groups.
TLP is who the government is accountable to and is, therefore, the most effective political platform for the masses. The TLP worker burning cars is not a terrorist or a separatist but instead an outraged civilian who deserves to be heard. The most empowered Pakistani citizen is one who is willing to defend Islam against all threats foreign or domestic at any cost. Where that leaves the vulnerable religious minorities routinely accused of blasphemy and murdered in the streets is once more of little relevance.
It is no surprise then that PTI rhetoric echoes the exact same concerns that TLP has. Following the death of multiple police officers and injury to 700, one of Sheikh Rasheed’s first statements was that, “Prime Minister Imran Khan will himself spearhead a drive against blasphemous acts.” A tweet by the prime minister made it clear that any action against TLP was taken when and only because “they challenged the writ of the state,” the implication being clear that the government would never move against the group should they have simply stuck to their usual murderous rhetoric without assaulting police officers. At another point, he stated, supposedly as his version of a rebuke to the rioters that, “these protests and violence in our country, it won’t make a difference to the West, where this insulting happens.” Amidst calls to revoke our GSP status, Khan calls, “on Muslim-majority countries to band together to lobby European and other countries on the issue of perceived blasphemy” and in doing so, he endorses as national concern the agenda of the TLP. How then is TLP but a fringe group and not the ideological representatives of the nation?
In a country where movements for social justice, freedom of expression, and rights of marginalized people are met with unforgiving state repression, what does it mean for the TLP platform to achieve such success? It means the complete discrediting of all progressive movements in the eyes of the broader public, movements whose progress and influence pale in comparison to that of the TLP. Each time the government capitulates and panders to these groups, the message is sent loud and clear that if there is any platform that deserves the nation’s respect and recognition, it is the one whose sole mission is to see blasphemers hanged.