Salmaan Taseer’s assassination and the celebration of Mumtaz Qadri as an idol by a sizable segment of the population has ushered in a new era in Pakistan’s political life. Taseer’s murder readily provided a trigger to an already growing political movement in search of an anchor to focus its energies and unite its factions. Followers of an indigenous and populist sect of Islam, traditionally considered to be docile and harmless, turned violent and decided to claim political space for themselves through muscle and force. And now, the question really is, what happened in the socio-political and economic environment of the country to drive such a change of heart and tactics within this group?
This movement, the Barelvi sect of Islam, was formally established by Ahmad Raza Barelvi of Bareilly, Uttar Pradesh (India) in the early 20th century. He codified a belief system mainly followed by the Muslim masses of the Sub-Continent. This system was grounded in the miracles of local saints and reverence for the Holy Prophet Muhammad (Peace be upon him). This brand of Islam ran parallel to Deobandi Islam, which was primarily followed by the Muslim landowning classes of that era. It is hard to say whether the movement espoused any political ambitions in its initial years, but it eventually entered Pakistan’s political arena with Maulana Shah Ahmed Noorani’s (1926-2003) Jamiat Ulema-e-Pakistan in the 1960s and 70s. The movement was associated with peaceful religious processions and nonviolent philosophy until the emergence of the Sunni Tehreek in the 1990s allegedly to counter forceful takeovers of Barelvi mosques by organizations adhering to Deobandi Islam in Karachi. Whether these threats were real or perceived, the response of the Sunni Tehreek was the first show of street power by a group associated with Barelvi Islam.
The Barelvi movement offers people an affinity with their leaders that is rarely seen in Pakistan's politics.At an Islamabad sit-in, last year, speeches were made in local dialects of Punjabi and Potohari instead of in Urdu, and the clerics did not hesitate to use colloquial language sprinkled with curse words that had to be censored for television audiences
During the 1990s and 2000s, the influence of the Sunni Tehreek and other Barelvi groups was limited to the fringes of society, and mostly Karachi and Hyderabad. In recent years, however, they have been attracting followers from Punjab (especially northern Punjab) and expanding their influence over Pakistan’s political landscape. Salmaan Taseer’s murder in 2011 helped the movement unite several organizations such as the Jamaat Ahl-e-Sunnat, Sunni Ittehad Council, Minhaj-ul-Quran, and Dawat-e-Islami around the issue of supporting Mumtaz Qadri. The movement’s high points were Qadri’s funeral attended by an estimated 30,000 individuals in March last year, and the subsequent sit-ins in Rawalpindi and Islamabad. Off late, incidents such as the roughing up of Junaid Jamshed at the Islamabad airport, the defacing murals celebrating prominent women activists in Karachi, and calls to publicly execute alleged blasphemers are evidence of the growing menace this movement is turning into for society.
The movement has been successful in harnessing the anger of the masses against the elite and powerful sections of society. The failure of populist secular political parties such as the Pakistan People’s Party (PPP) in Punjab and the Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM) in urban Sindh to provide representation to the people has helped fill the ranks of the movement over the last decade. Low-income, working class citizens who used to support the PPP can no longer count on it to provide them with the protection and economic progress Zulfikar Ali Bhutto and Benazir Bhutto previously offered. The MQM, on the other hand, has disintegrated into multiple factions with uncertainty looming over its future role in politics. Thinning opportunities of social mobility and diminishing access to public services such as education, healthcare, and employment is adding to public frustration. Individuals belonging to the under-classes are increasingly attracted to the growing strength of the Barelvi movement as they do not see a future in the mainstream structure.
In March last year, Sunni Tehreek men gathering for a sit-in near parliament in Islamabad to denounce the hanging of Mumtaz Qadri for Governor Salmaan Taseer's murder
The movement offers people an affinity with their leaders that is rarely seen in Pakistan’s politics. Take for example, the Islamabad sit-in, last year, when speeches were made in local dialects of Punjabi and Potohari instead of in Urdu, and the clerics did not hesitate to use colloquial language sprinkled with curse words that had to be censored for television audiences. More importantly, the leaders of the movement are themselves from the masses, and thus, present a high level of accessibility, unlike the elected representatives belonging to the traditional mainstream political parties. Even the rhetoric in their speeches seemed to come straight out of the battle cries of 18th century French revolution, with calls for the destruction of all power structures and the establishment of economic and social justice.
The use of religious sentiments for political means is nothing new, and especially not in the context of Pakistan. At least since the 1980s, the state has been actively using religious organizations and ideology in a bid to liberate Kashmir from India, establish strategic depth in Afghanistan, and bully political parties and elected governments. These organizations, primarily belonging to Deobandi Islam, expanded their influence over the socio-political fabric of the country almost unopposed. Since the Army Public School attack in 2014, however, the state has been distancing itself from these groups, which have eroded their hold on power, and the space left behind is increasingly being reclaimed by Barelvi groups.
While the movement may currently be enjoying a high point, keeping it strong in the long-term won’t be easy. It is impaired by its fragmented leadership and lack of centralized command structure. It would need a leader of national stature like Maulana Noorani to engage with the state and provide a viable option to its constituents to support it in the national elections. Crude shows of street strength may be working for now, but will not help with public image in the long-term if it wants to be taken seriously.
In sum, the weakening of the political institutions of the PPP and MQM that have historically provided refuge to the underclasses, and the decreasing influence of Deobandi organizations is helping the Barelvi movement gain ground and is likely to in future. The losers in this equation will be the institutional structures of the state, free speech, and religious freedom. The best way for the state to deal with this rising problem would be to provide the masses with basic healthcare, education, justice, and employment opportunities through its secular offices. This would, obviously, require taxing the rich and limiting the economic exploitation of the elites, which we are not ready to concede yet. The more we continue to deny Pakistanis socio-economic justice, the more we will face instability and volatility from the underclasses in one form or the other.
Obed Pasha is lecturer of Public Policy at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst. He can be reached at obedpasha@gmail.com or @ramblingsufi
