If one wishes to understand the perils of extremism, the political journey of Tehreek-e-Labbaik Pakistan offers a complete case study.
In the 2018 general elections, TLP secured 2.2 million votes from Punjab alone. Had it functioned as a democratic political party, such a significant vote bank could have made it a serious player in national politics. Instead, chaos, extremism, and impulsiveness dragged it into a political swamp, and now it faces the possibility of a ban.
Throughout its existence, TLP failed to establish any political or organizational structure. It never engaged with other political parties, nor did mainstream parties take it seriously. Its leaders were absent from national debates, never held press conferences, and rarely expressed positions on key national issues. The party’s only visible activity was to erupt onto the streets at unpredictable intervals, paralyzing public life and disrupting the country’s functioning.
A genuine political party operates with a clear vision, defined objectives, and focused plans. TLP had none. It never appeared interested in being recognized as a responsible political entity.
Some believe Pakistan’s long-standing image as a “soft state” may finally be giving way to a more assertive and disciplined order.
In Pakistan’s federal framework, political power is centered in Punjab. The province holds more National Assembly seats than all other provinces combined, which makes it the ultimate deciding ground of national politics.
Had proportional representation been in effect, TLP’s 2.2 million votes would have translated into nine National Assembly and twenty-one provincial assembly seats in Punjab-a significant political showing. Yet despite this, it won no seats. No major party considered it worthy of seat adjustments or alliances, largely because it was contesting its first election and lacked credibility.
The deeper issue, however, was that TLP never possessed a political temperament. Its structure was not political, and its decision-making lacked any sign of democratic strategy or political foresight. Consequently, it squandered its potential and plunged society into a dangerous culture of extremism whose aftershocks continue to unsettle the nation.
Its recent protests illustrate this trend. For months, as Palestine endured devastation, TLP remained silent. Yet the moment a peace agreement was signed in Sharm al-Sheikh, the group suddenly launched street protests in Pakistan. Naturally, this raised questions: was this an act of solidarity with Palestine or something else entirely?
These protests coincided with tensions along the Afghan border, leading many to wonder whether the movement’s decisions were influenced from within or orchestrated by some external forces. The opacity of TLP’s decision-making remains one of its defining mysteries. No one knows how its internal processes function or who makes the final calls.
The pattern has become predictable: a slogan is raised, chaos follows, and the country is brought to a standstill. This brand of extremism has harmed not only TLP itself but also the wider fabric of religious politics in Pakistan. If religious political leaders reflect honestly, they will realize how profoundly this approach has damaged their credibility and cause.
Freedom of expression and protest are constitutional rights, but when protests cripple the state and daily life, they turn destructive. TLP’s methods have thrown both its followers and society into a pit of extremism whose consequences may haunt Pakistan for years to come.
Some believe Pakistan’s long-standing image as a “soft state” may finally be giving way to a more assertive and disciplined order. One can only hope this change proves real and lasting.
The writer is a lawyer and author based in Islamabad. He tweets @m_asifmahmood