Sohail Afridi and the Politics of Deflection
Politics becomes dangerous when accountability is replaced by emotion. In Pakistan, as elsewhere, political movements often discover that public anger has limits. When narratives of confrontation, agitation, or disorder fail to generate the expected public response, there is always a temptation to reach for something deeper and more powerful. Religion, unfortunately, can become that instrument. Yet political weakness does not become moral strength merely because it is presented in the language of faith. Nor can administrative failures or organizational shortcomings be erased by attaching religious symbolism to a political controversy.
The recent debate surrounding Ishtiaq raises precisely this concern. According to a statement attributed to members of his family, Punjab Police extended considerable cooperation to them during their difficult circumstances, while Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf allegedly provided little or no meaningful assistance. If that account is accurate, it creates an obvious political question. Where was the party when the family required practical support? That question cannot simply disappear because Sohail Afridi later described Ishtiaq as an “Aashiq-e-Rasool.” Respect for an individual’s faith is one matter.
Using religious language as an answer to questions about political responsibility is quite another
Political parties have every right to honour their supporters, defend their workers, and explain their version of disputed events. But when questions arise about organizational conduct, leadership responsibility, or the treatment of party workers, those questions deserve direct answers. If there were allegations of poor management among party workers, then the responsible course would be to explain what happened, identify who was responsible, and clarify what assistance was provided afterward.
Changing the conversation from organizational responsibility to religious devotion risks appearing evasive. It gives the impression that faith is being introduced not because religion is genuinely at issue, but because religious emotion offers political protection. That is precisely why political leaders must exercise particular caution. Religious sentiments in Pakistan are powerful, deeply personal, and capable of shaping public behaviour far beyond ordinary party loyalties.
Responsible politics should therefore keep them above tactical political competition
Love for the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ is not the political property of any leader, province, movement, or party. It is central to the faith and emotional life of Muslims across political divisions. A supporter of PTI may possess that devotion. So may a supporter of PML-N, PPP, JUI-F, Jamaat-e-Islami, or someone with no political affiliation whatsoever. To suggest, directly or indirectly, that one political camp carries a special claim to religious devotion diminishes rather than strengthens the sacredness of that belief.
There is also a broader democratic problem here. Political parties must win support through governance, policy, organization, credibility, and public service. They should not need religious identity to compensate for political shortcomings. When politics begins to rely heavily on sacred symbols, disagreement itself becomes more difficult. A citizen may question a party’s conduct, but once the matter is framed through religious emotion, criticism can unfairly be presented as hostility toward faith.
That is unhealthy for democracy and dangerous for society. Pakistan already carries painful historical experience of political and religious narratives becoming entangled in ways that reduce space for reasoned debate. Leaders across the political spectrum therefore have a responsibility to lower the emotional temperature rather than raise it.
No political march, protest, election campaign, or leadership dispute should be presented as a test of an ordinary Muslim’s devotion to the Prophet ﷺ
The essential questions in the Ishtiaq controversy remain practical rather than theological. Who stood with the family when assistance was required? Who contacted them? Who helped them through administrative or legal difficulties? What support did political representatives provide? Why, according to the family’s reported account, was police cooperation more visible than party assistance? These are questions that deserve evidence and explanation.
Another question concerns the timing of public expressions of sympathy. If a condolence or sympathy video appeared with a September 27 tag, the timeline should be clarified rather than politicised. Was the video recorded earlier and uploaded later? Was it posted as part of a subsequent campaign? Was the date being interpreted correctly? Such matters should be answered with records, timestamps, and transparent communication. Political credibility is strengthened by evidence, not slogans.
Every political movement celebrates its workers when crowds are large, rallies are successful, and television cameras are present. The harder test comes afterward, particularly when workers or their families face hardship. Political loyalty is not merely about attendance at marches or chanting slogans. It creates a moral responsibility for leadership as well. If parties mobilise individuals during moments of political confrontation, they should also have systems for legal assistance, family support, emergency coordination, and transparent communication when those individuals encounter difficulties.
This principle applies to every political party, not only PTI. Pakistan needs a political culture in which parties stop treating workers as expendable instruments of mobilisation. Workers should not become important only when their presence strengthens a protest or creates a powerful visual narrative.
Their value must remain visible when television coverage disappears
The strongest response to criticism is therefore not religious rhetoric, counter-accusation, or emotional escalation. It is transparency. If PTI supported Ishtiaq’s family, it should place the facts before the public. If provincial authorities helped, that contribution should also be acknowledged without partisan discomfort. If there are competing accounts, they should be examined fairly.
Politics must remain accountable to facts. Faith deserves a higher place than political damage control. The love of the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ belongs to the entire Muslim community and should never be reduced to a campaign device. Political parties will ultimately be judged not by the sacred language they invoke during controversy, but by what they actually did when their supporters and their families needed them most.
