As the Islamic month of Muharram approaches each year, it brings not just a period of spiritual reflection and mourning for Pakistan’s Shia community, but also a familiar cloud of fear, violence, and marginalization. Despite repeated promises of protection and unity, the Pakistani state continues to fall short in shielding its citizens, particularly Shias, from the deepening scourge of sectarianism.
This isn’t a new problem. We’ve seen it again and again: mourning processions placed under heavy police surveillance, loudspeaker bans on majalis, clerics preaching hate unchecked, and in the worst cases, deadly attacks on worshippers. Each Muharram, families leave their homes not knowing if they’ll return safely from a majlis or a jaloos. That is the reality for millions of Pakistani Shias, a reality that far too many turn a blind eye to.
It’s both tragic and saying that commemorating the sacrifice of Imam Hussain, a man who stood against tyranny, is treated with suspicion in a country that was itself founded in the name of religious freedom. Shia gatherings are frequently labelled as “security threats”, while sectarian groups openly spread hatred without consequence. When mourning is treated as provocation, and silence becomes survival, it’s a clear sign that something is deeply broken in our collective conscience.
The state’s response has largely been cosmetic. Yes, roads are blocked, and mobile services are suspended “for security”, but what about addressing the root cause of that insecurity? What about the unchecked hate speech, the banned outfits that still operate under new names, the pulpits used to vilify entire sects, and the school textbooks that ignore the diversity of our religious heritage? These problems are never tackled head-on, because doing so would mean upsetting the very groups that thrive on division. But despite all of this, Pakistan’s Shia community continues to resist, not through violence, but by refusing to stop mourning. They continue to take out processions, hold gatherings, recite Noha’s, and honour their history. That resilience, in the face of fear, is perhaps the strongest act of defiance against sectarianism. It’s also a reminder: the story of Karbala is not just about the past, it’s happening now, in different ways, and we all have a role to play in which side of history we stand on.
If we want to be a country that respects its own citizens equally, then we need to do more than just deploy police during Muharram. We need to dismantle the narrative that makes Shia lives expendable. That begins with holding hate mongers accountable, changing how we talk about sectarian identity, and most importantly, refusing to normalize fear during a month that should be about reflection, sacrifice, and unity.
Until then, every Muharram will be a painful reminder, not just of a tragedy in Karbala, but of the silence we allow in the face of injustice today.
Opinion Piece by Muhammad Jawad Rasool