Islam was sent as a mercy to mankind, a message of peace, humility and restraint. Prophet Muhammad (Peace Be Upon Him) embodied that mercy in every word and deed. Yet, in a land that claims his legacy, we have turned his message into something it was never meant to be: a banner for anger, a tool for control, and a license for violence.
The Holy Quran says:
“And the servants of the Most Merciful are those who walk upon the earth humbly, and when the ignorant address them harshly, they say [words of] peace.”
(Surah Al-Furqan 25:63)
and
“Indeed, Allah is with those who are patient.”
(Surah Al-Baqarah 2:153)
Patience is the foundation of faith. Yet in our society, impatience has become a reflex, anger a right, and violence a form of devotion. The Prophet (PBUH), who forgave his enemies in Taif, who rose to honour a Jewish funeral procession, and who forbade even verbal abuse in anger, is invoked today by those who take lives in his name.
Patience is the foundation of faith. Yet in our society, impatience has become a reflex, anger a right, and violence a form of devotion.
Hazrat Aisha (RA) said of him: “His (PBUH) character was the Quran.” (Sahih Muslim). He (PBUH) never cursed or shouted. He (PBUH) said, “The strong man is not the one who can overpower others, but the one who controls himself when angry.”
(Sahih al-Bukhari 6114)
One of the greatest examples of the Prophet’s (PBUH) mercy was at the conquest of Makkah. After years of persecution, exile, and war, he (PBUH) returned victorious, yet instead of revenge, he (PBUH) forgave his (PBUH) enemies. He (PBUH) declared, “Go, for you are free.” Not a single life was taken in vengeance that day. This act of forgiveness changed hearts more than any sword ever could. It was mercy in its purest form, justice tempered with compassion.
In Pakistan, religion has become a weapon more than a guide. The same faith that commands justice has been used to justify lawlessness. We see mobs calling themselves Ashiq-e-Rasool (PBUH), yet burning homes, killing neighbours, and destroying communities, actions that insult the Prophet (PBUH) far more than any critic ever could.
The Mashal Khan case in 2017, where a young student was lynched over false blasphemy accusations, was a dark stain on our collective conscience. In Sialkot (2021), Priyantha Kumara, a Sri Lankan manager, was beaten and burned alive by factory workers chanting religious slogans. And the murder of Governor Salmaan Taseer (2011) for questioning the misuse of the blasphemy law revealed how misplaced passion can triumph over principle.
The Prophet (PBUH) said: “Whoever kills a person having a treaty with the Muslims shall not smell the fragrance of paradise.”
(Sahih al-Bukhari 3166)
And he (PBUH) warned: “Beware! Whoever is cruel to a non-Muslim minority or curtails their rights, I (Muhammad) (PBUH) will complain against that person on the Day of Judgment.”
(Sunan Abu Dawood 3052)
The Quran teaches: “O you who have believed, be persistently standing firm in justice, witnesses for Allah, even if it be against yourselves or parents and relatives.”
(Surah An-Nisa 4:135)
True love of the Prophet (PBUH) lies not in fury but in emulation. His (PBUH) Sunnah was gentleness, not vengeance; humility, not pride. To misuse his (PBUH) name for bloodshed is to betray him.
If we truly claim to be his (PBUH) followers, then our defence of faith must begin not with our fists, but with our hearts and the discipline to act as he did, with patience, compassion, and justice.
But to build that moral foundation, Pakistan must urgently reform how Islam is taught. Our madrasa system, largely unregulated and disconnected from modern education, has become a breeding ground for distorted teachings. While most teachers are sincere, a lack of oversight allows extremist interpretations to thrive unchecked. The state must regulate madrasas just as it does schools, ensuring curricula rooted in authentic Quranic teachings.
Our madrasas must teach not only Arabic grammar and jurisprudence but also the Prophet’s (PBUH) compassion, civic responsibility, and respect for life. The curriculum should align with the Quran’s essence of mercy and the Prophet’s (PBUH) moral code. Religious education should build character, not conformity and empathy, not enmity.
This is not an attack on religion; it is an effort to restore it. The state regulates every kind of institution, from banks to bakeries; surely, the moral foundation of our children deserves the same care. When religion becomes an unregulated ideology, it mutates into extremism. Groups like the Tehreek-e-Labbaik Pakistan (TLP) are living proof, a movement that claims love for the Prophet (PBUH) yet thrives on hatred and mob violence. They celebrate anger as devotion and outrage as faith, reducing the Prophet Muhammad’s (PBUH) message of mercy to a slogan of rage.
The Prophet (PBUH) said, “He who does not show mercy will not be shown mercy.” (Sahih al-Bukhari 6013). That single hadith should be the cornerstone of every religious lesson in this country. Our crisis is not of faith but of understanding, a generation taught fear instead of love and rage instead of restraint.
The writer is a former State Minister for Education and Professional Training, former Member of the National Assembly of Pakistan, Chairperson of the Prime Minister’s Youth Programme and Director at Media Times.