On November 2, 2025, a pivotal moment unfolded in Multan, Pakistan, as the Central Majlis-e-Shura of Jamaat Ahle Sunnat Pakistan gathered at Jamia Anwar-ul-Uloom. This session, presided over by the party’s central chief, Pir-e-Tariqat Allama Professor Mazhar Saeed Kazmi, drew delegates from across the country, including members of the Central and Provincial Executive Councils and the Supreme Council. The meeting was set against a backdrop of mounting outrage within the Sunni Barelvi community over what many see as an unprecedented government crackdown on religious institutions and activists.
According to Daily Minute Mirror Lahore, the participants voiced their deep anger at the federal and provincial governments’ ongoing operations targeting Tehreek-e-Labbaik Pakistan (TLP). These operations, they alleged, resulted in the sealing of numerous Ahle Sunnat mosques and seminaries, the arrest of ulema, mashaikh, and worshippers, and even reported cases of desecration of homes and mosques. The Central Majlis-e-Shura didn’t mince words, demanding the immediate reopening of all sealed mosques and madrasas, the release of detained Ahle Sunnat members, and, crucially, an independent judicial inquiry into the so-called Muridke tragedy.
The sense of grievance was palpable. The council also unanimously endorsed the decision to convene an “All Pakistan Sunni Ulema and Mashaikh Conference” in Lahore, a move aimed at consolidating the Sunni Barelvi response. In a forceful condemnation, the council singled out federal interior minister Syed Mohsin Raza Naqvi for failing to meet with Ahle Sunnat scholars and leaders in Lahore, despite previous commitments. This perceived snub added fuel to an already blazing fire of discontent.
Emerging from the meeting, Allama Mazhar Saeed Kazmi delivered a stark warning to the Punjab government. “We have been restraining the anger of our people with great difficulty,” he told reporters, as cited by Daily Minute Mirror Lahore. “We are the descendants of those ulema, mashaikh, and people of Ahle Sunnat who played a pivotal role in creating Pakistan. This country belongs to us, and we will never allow chaos or destruction within it. But if the majority Ahle Sunnat community is suppressed through state force, a single protest call from our people will send this government packing — and no hidden power will be able to save it.”
This strong rhetoric followed a particularly tense episode: a joint operation by Punjab Police, the Anti-Riot Force, and the Frontier Constabulary at Muridke on GT Road. The operation targeted a TLP solidarity march for Palestine, an event that has since become a flashpoint in the broader debate over the role of religion in Pakistani politics and society. The government’s actions, which included the forceful dispersal of protesters and the closure of religious sites, were justified by authorities as necessary to maintain order and prevent the kind of chaos that TLP-led protests have previously unleashed.
Indeed, the government’s crackdown on TLP was not limited to Multan or even Punjab. As reported by This Week in Asia, on the same day as the Multan meeting, Pakistan officially declared Tehreek-e-Labbaik Pakistan a terrorist organisation. This move came after thousands of TLP activists attempted to besiege the US embassy in Islamabad—a dramatic escalation that left authorities with little choice but to act. The crackdown was described as swift and decisive: hundreds of mosques and seminaries affiliated with TLP were seized by provincial authorities, and their management was handed over to moderate clerics from the mainstream Barelvi movement. This spiritualist Sunni sect, while linked to the TLP, is known for generally rejecting violence.
The state’s message was unambiguous. As This Week in Asia put it, Pakistan’s government signaled that it would no longer tolerate violent groups destabilising the country under the guise of religious piety. Retired lieutenant general Abdul Qayyum, president of the Pakistan Ex-Servicemen Society, expressed confidence that the government had finally resolved to take decisive action. “I am confident that the government has made up its mind this time,” he said, reflecting a broader sentiment among Pakistan’s security establishment.
For years, TLP has been a thorn in the side of successive governments, repeatedly paralysing major cities with deadly protests and forcing ministers into humiliating retreats. The group’s use of Pakistan’s colonial-era anti-blasphemy laws as both weapon and shield has made it a uniquely potent force. But the events of October and November 2025 marked a turning point. The government’s willingness to seize religious sites and transfer their management signaled a new approach—one that seeks to empower moderate voices within the Barelvi community while isolating more radical elements.
Still, the backlash from the broader Ahle Sunnat Barelvi community has been swift and far-reaching. Since the Muridke operation, three major national-level gatherings have taken place: one in Karachi led by Mufti Muneeb-ur-Rehman, president of Tanzeem-ul-Madaris Pakistan; another in Lahore, presided over by Qari Zawar Bahadur of Jamiat Ulema-e-Pakistan (Noorani group); and the most recent in Multan, chaired by Allama Mazhar Saeed Kazmi. Each gathering has served as a platform for expressing growing discontent and for rallying opposition to what is seen as a broader assault on religious institutions.
The reverberations have not been confined to Pakistan’s borders. Ahle Sunnat organisations in Bangladesh and India have staged their own protests in solidarity. On Friday, Jamaat Ahle Sunnat Bangladesh organised demonstrations in Dhaka and other cities, while in India, the All India Sunni Ulema and Mashaikh Board led post-prayer protests across several states. The sight of Barelvi groups mobilising in multiple countries underscores the transnational dimension of the crisis and the deep sense of shared identity among Sunni Barelvi communities in South Asia.
The government’s actions have drawn both praise and criticism. Supporters argue that the crackdown was long overdue, given TLP’s track record of violence and disruption. They point to the group’s repeated use of street power to extract concessions from the state, and to the dangers of allowing any group to wield religious sentiment as a tool for political leverage. Critics, however, warn that heavy-handed tactics risk alienating millions of peaceful Barelvi followers, potentially fueling further unrest and undermining the very stability the government seeks to preserve.
In the end, the events of early November 2025 may well be remembered as a defining moment in Pakistan’s ongoing struggle to balance religious freedom, public order, and the rule of law. The coming weeks—and the outcomes of the promised judicial inquiry—will reveal whether the government’s new approach can succeed where previous efforts have failed, or whether the cycle of protest and repression will continue to haunt the nation’s political landscape.
