In the heart of Lahore, October 2025 unfolded with a level of unrest and confrontation that has sent ripples through Pakistan’s political landscape and civil society. What began as a pro-Palestinian march organized by the religious party Tehreek-e-Labbaik Pakistan (TLP) quickly escalated into one of the most significant internal security crises of the year, pitting thousands of protestors against a state apparatus determined to reassert control.
According to reporting from Firstpost and corroborated by local media, the initial rally—ostensibly a show of solidarity with Palestinians amid the ongoing Gaza conflict—soon became a flashpoint for broader grievances. The Punjab government, wary of TLP’s history of paralyzing cities and openly challenging state authority, preemptively blocked roads with shipping containers, throttled internet access along major routes, and dispatched both police and paramilitary Rangers to Muridke, a small industrial town north of Lahore that served as the protest’s epicenter.
The tension boiled over on October 12, 2025, as law enforcement moved to disperse the crowds. Witnesses described a chaotic melee: police fired tear gas, rubber bullets, and—by some accounts—live ammunition into the throngs of protestors. Protesters responded with volleys of stones, set vehicles alight, and blocked highways, transforming the outskirts of Lahore into a battlefield. Social media footage captured scenes of burning police vehicles, injured protestors carried on makeshift stretchers, and streets choked with debris.
The numbers emerging from official and partisan sources tell a story marked by both scale and opacity. Punjab Police reported five fatalities, including one police officer, and around 110 injured law enforcement personnel. Yet TLP’s own figures suggested a much higher toll among its supporters, at one point claiming several dozen dead. While these numbers could not be independently verified, the gulf between official and protestor accounts highlights a chronic lack of transparency in Pakistan’s handling of domestic unrest.
In the days that followed, the government’s response was swift and sweeping. As reported by Dawn, over 2,700 TLP activists were detained after a pre-dawn operation dismantled the group’s protest camp in Muridke. Of these, 251 were arrested by Lahore police and 178 by Sheikhupura police. FIRs were lodged against TLP leader Saad Rizvi and nearly 3,500 unnamed supporters, invoking charges ranging from terrorism to sedition. A senior police official admitted to local media that the crackdown was “comprehensive and pre-planned,” with lists of activists circulated to intelligence branches well before the march began.
The government’s invocation of anti-terrorism laws and deployment of over 4,500 police and paramilitary personnel in and around Lahore underscored the seriousness with which it viewed the TLP threat. According to The Nation, the Punjab government justified the use of such force by citing intelligence assessments of potential violence and threats to public safety. Yet the heavy-handed tactics, including internet blackouts that reduced connectivity in parts of Lahore to less than 30% during peak clashes, drew sharp criticism from human rights observers and the independent press. These shutdowns, the government insisted, were necessary for public safety, but they also hampered real-time reporting and prevented citizens from documenting potential abuses.
The human toll of these confrontations remains deeply contested. Hospitals in Lahore and Sheikhupura received dozens of injured protestors, some in critical condition, between October 12 and 13. Access to medical facilities was reportedly restricted, with police stationed at entrances and journalists denied entry. While the Punjab government insisted that only a few civilians had been seriously injured, local rights monitors accused authorities of downplaying the numbers and quietly transferring bodies to undisclosed mortuaries.
On Friday, October 17, Punjab Information Minister Azma Bokhari addressed the press, revealing that 1,648 police officers had been injured in the recent violence and that one police inspector was killed after being shot 26 times. Bokhari criticized what she called a “dangerous trend of making false accusations and resorting to violence as a solution,” and emphasized that such actions “cannot be tolerated.” She presented videos from protests in Lahore’s Multan Road and Muridke, showing law enforcement officers being attacked, government properties destroyed, and scenes of arson. Bokhari declared, “The state cannot afford protests that promote terror and brutality,” reaffirming the government’s commitment to protecting citizens and maintaining law and order.
The crackdown was not limited to Lahore. On Saturday, October 18, the Punjab Home Department extended the imposition of Section 144—a legal provision prohibiting assemblies of four or more people, the display of weapons, and the use of loudspeakers (except for mosque sermons and calls to prayer)—across the province for another week, citing ongoing security threats. The Home Department’s order warned that public processions and sit-ins could become “soft targets for terrorists,” and that miscreants might exploit protests for anti-state activities. The restrictions were deemed essential “to ensure the safety and security of the lives and property of the general public.”
Section 144 also imposed a complete ban on the publication and distribution of inflammatory, hateful, or sectarian material, with exceptions only for weddings, funerals, and religious sermons. Bokhari announced that illegal weapons must be surrendered within a month, or terrorism charges would follow. Misuse of loudspeakers and spreading hate speech would be prosecuted under the Prevention of Electronic Crimes Act (PECA). She stressed that the government’s actions were not targeting religious groups or seminaries, but were focused on curbing extremism and protecting the public.
Despite the TLP’s call for further demonstrations, Friday passed largely peacefully, with no major incidents or hostile gatherings reported anywhere in Punjab. According to Dawn, traffic flowed, businesses remained open, and students attended school as usual—a testament, officials argued, to the effectiveness of the crackdown. Yet beneath this outward calm, deeper questions linger about the costs of such a response.
Economically, the protests and subsequent security measures have exacted a heavy toll. The Lahore Chamber of Commerce and Industry estimated direct losses exceeding 6 billion Pakistani rupees in just the first three days of unrest, as road closures and disrupted logistics slowed the transport of goods between Karachi and northern Punjab by nearly 40%. With inflation hovering around 27% and foreign reserves stretched thin, such disruptions only compound Pakistan’s ongoing economic crisis.
The broader political context is equally fraught. TLP, whose support base cuts across Punjab’s urban working class, has demonstrated a remarkable capacity to mobilize. Its religious messaging appeals to segments of the population disenchanted with mainstream parties. Analysts warn that the state’s heavy-handed tactics—mass arrests, the use of anti-terrorism laws, and the suppression of communication—risk further radicalizing the party’s base and reinforcing its narrative of persecution by the state.
Underlying all these events is a persistent lack of accountability. Pakistan’s law enforcement agencies operate with little independent oversight, and investigations into police conduct during protests are typically internal and opaque. The Punjab government’s announcement of a judicial inquiry into the Lahore violence has been met with skepticism, given the ineffectiveness of similar inquiries in the past.
The events of October 2025, then, are more than an isolated clash between TLP and the state. They expose deep structural issues in Pakistan’s approach to governance, the fusion of civil and military authority, and the erosion of public trust. As the government insists it acted to preserve order, the opacity surrounding casualties, mass arrests without due process, and the ongoing suppression of communication networks paint a more troubling picture—one where control is prioritized over accountability. Unless credible mechanisms for transparency and civilian oversight are developed, such confrontations are likely to recur, deepening the fissures within Pakistani society.
