Pakistan’s Blood-Stained Roads
By Prof Masood Akhtar Hazravi
It is an undeniable fact that from London’s Trafalgar Square to the shadow of the Eiffel Tower in Paris, from Berlin’s Brandenburg Gate to New York’s Times Square, Washington’s National Mall, Sydney’s Opera House, Cape Town’s Green Market, and the cities of Latin America such as Buenos Aires and Mexico City — millions of people have taken to the streets. Muslims, Christians, Jews, Buddhists, Hindus, and even non-believers — all have raised a single voice:
“Stop Israel’s atrocities against the oppressed Palestinians immediately!”
In these demonstrations, Palestinian flags waved high, slogans echoed, and banners read: “The massacre of Gaza’s oppressed people is a grave violation of human rights.”
The governments of these countries certainly took administrative measures to maintain law and order — such as closing routes, setting up security checkpoints, and diverting traffic — but none of them completely shut the door on freedom of expression. In the United Kingdom, the Metropolitan Police protected the demonstrators; in Germany, Berlin’s police ensured security for peaceful protest; and in the United States, the New York Police merely monitored extremist elements while allowing the protesters to demonstrate freely. Some states even tolerated acts of dissent where demonstrators protested in front of Israeli embassies or organized artistic performances in support of Palestine.
But sadly, Pakistan has yet to reach this level of democratic maturity. Here, disagreement is branded as rebellion, protest as crime, and the people’s voice as a threat.
On October 13, 2025, workers of a registered political and religious party (TLP) announced a protest march towards Islamabad in solidarity with the oppressed people of Palestine. The purpose was simple and clear — to express unity with the victims of Israeli aggression. This march, which was supposed to be peaceful and organized, suddenly turned into a river of blood.
In Muridke, the state machinery used force without restraint. The rattle of gunfire, clouds of tear gas, and scenes of baton charges wrote a new chapter of oppression. A police officer and several protesters lost their lives, and many others were injured — some critically. Burned vehicles, shattered motorcycles, blood-stained citizens, and thick smoke on Muridke’s roads gave rise to a haunting question:
Why, in our beloved Pakistan, is every voice of dissent silenced by the gun?
Even if the timing of the protest was inappropriate or the circumstances delicate, could the state not have managed it through police coordination, route diversions, or dialogue instead of bullets? These questions are not only in the minds of TLP workers but in the hearts of every conscious Pakistani.
The Human Rights Commission of Pakistan (HRCP) has termed this incident as “an excessive use of force against unarmed citizens” and has demanded an immediate and independent investigation. Yet, unfortunately, this demand too will likely be buried in bureaucratic files like so many previous tragedies.
This is not the first time such blood has been shed. In 2021, during another TLP protest, dozens of workers were martyred by state gunfire. Before that came the 2014 Model Town tragedy, where the blood of 14 people — including women and children — exposed the state’s apathy. In 2024, during the Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf (PTI) march, bullets were again fired, people were killed, and thousands of workers were beaten with batons. These and other such incidents are written in the blood of Pakistan’s citizens — painful chapters that every Pakistani remembers with anguish.
Have the unseen powers — those who operate behind the scenes — still not been satisfied after so much innocent blood has been spilled? Every Pakistani wants to know: Who are these forces that control the state so tightly that it sees no option other than to shoot its own people?
Is it domestic political pressure, the conspiracies of anti-Islam elements, or some larger geopolitical game being played at the global level? These questions echo not only in journalistic circles but across social media and public debates.
Remember: through the misuse of power, temporary peace can perhaps be achieved — but trust between the people and the state is lost forever.
Most TLP workers come from the middle and lower classes — they are scholars, laborers, students, artisans, shopkeepers, and ordinary citizens. When bullets are fired upon such people, not only their bodies but the heart of the nation bleeds. The bond between a state and its people should not be that of eternal hostility — it should be like that between a mother and her child.
A mother, when her child errs, explains, embraces, and forgives — but she never raises a gun. When the mother herself becomes the killer, the home ceases to be a home — it becomes a slaughterhouse.
In developed societies, dissent is tolerated and regarded as the very essence of democracy. No one is labeled a “traitor to the state.” There, patriotism means not blind obedience, but the courage to speak the truth, the freedom to criticize, and the struggle for positive change.
Pakistan’s rulers must understand that state authority is not sustained by bullets but by justice, equality, and transparency.
Today we must decide what kind of “Islamic Republic of Pakistan” we want — one where people live in fear, or one built on trust, respect, and dialogue?
The truth is that while power can create temporary awe, it can never win the hearts of the people. If we do not learn from our mistakes now, if we remain silent against oppression, then our silence will be taken as approval of tyranny. Power and fear can subdue people for a time, but lasting change comes only through love, justice, and truth.
History bears witness: the foundations of tyranny are always weak, while truth and justice unite hearts and bring enduring transformation. Pharaoh, Nimrod, and Yazid were powerful in their time; they chose the path of bloodshed and were ultimately destroyed.
So, O unseen powers and rulers of the state — cease your oppression! Beware of the cries of the oppressed, for they shake the very Throne of God.
Act with justice and remember the Hereafter — for Allah does not love the oppressors.