Opinion

Ansar Mahmood Bhatti

In Pakistani politics, nothing happens in isolation, and religious parties rarely step into the fray without a calculated reason or unseen backing. The recent activation of Jamiat Ulema-e-Islam (JUI-F) chief Maulana Fazl-ur-Rehman, particularly his controversial remarks against the Establishment in Kasur in mid-July 2026 that triggered widespread backlash and counter-campaigns, cannot be viewed as a spontaneous outburst.

 Parallel to this, veteran lawyer Ali Ahmed Kurd has been positioned to lead a fresh nationwide lawyers’ movement against the 26th and 27th Constitutional Amendments. On the surface, these developments appear disjointed—one a religious leader’s fiery speech on security and martyrdom, the other a legal fraternity’s push for judicial independence and proper judge transfers.

Yet, a closer examination reveals deeper currents at play. Maulana Fazl-ur-Rehman has not acted alone or without motive; his timing suggests a confluence of internal power dynamics, political calculations, and personal desperation. Religious parties in Pakistan, especially JUI-F, have historically punched above their electoral weight through strategic alliances and street power. They seldom ignite protests or controversies without sensing an opportunity or receiving signals from influential quarters. Maulana Fazl-ur-Rehman’s sudden focus on issues touching the establishment by questioning why soldiers’ sacrifices receive disproportionate attention while framing them within salaried service has predictably drawn accusations of insensitivity.

Supporters have countered with hashtags defending him as a voice against alleged institutional overreach. This is no coincidence. Three interconnected reasons explain his activation precisely now. First, there appears to be an internal power struggle among the powers that be. Pakistan’s political landscape has always been shaped by competing factions within the broader establishment. When one faction seeks to check another or recalibrate influence ahead of key decisions, proxies whether political parties or pressure groups are often activated.

 Maulana’s remarks and the ensuing polarisation serve as a convenient flashpoint. By drawing attention to security narratives and institutional roles, he indirectly amplifies fault lines that certain elements may wish to exploit. History shows such moments of engineered tension often precede shifts in the balance of power.

Second, the political motivation is clear: to forestall any constitutional amendments that could curtail the powers of the elected political government. The lawyers’ movement, now gaining momentum under Ali Ahmed Kurd’s leadership, is officially framed around the supremacy of the Constitution, rule of law, and resistance to amendments perceived as tilting the balance away from parliamentary supremacy.

In reality, behind-the-scenes calculations suggest a broader effort to block changes that might further empower non-political institutions at the expense of the civilian government. Maulana Fazl-ur-Rehman, with his experience in coalition politics, understands that once such amendments are entrenched, reversing them becomes nearly impossible.

By igniting debate and mobilising religious and street support, he aims to create a climate where further legislative moves in that direction become politically costly.

Third, and perhaps most compelling, is Maulana Fazl-ur-Rehman’s personal and political cornering. For years, JUI-F enjoyed leverage through participation in governments or strategic alliances. This is reportedly the first extended period he has found himself largely outside the corridors of power. Desperate to reclaim relevance and a share in the political pie, he knows that direct confrontation with the civilian government yields limited results.

Targeting the establishment, however, is a proven tactic only the establishment holds the keys to concessions, alliances, or even engineered political comebacks in Pakistan’s hybrid system. By positioning himself as a critic of institutional dominance while defending constitutionalism, he seeks to extract maximum political mileage. Cornered leaders often become the most vocal; history is replete with examples where out-of-power politicians suddenly rediscover their “principled” voice. The lawyers’ movement adds another layer to this unfolding drama. On the face of it, the campaign led by the 78-year-old Ali Ahmed Kurd demands an independent judiciary, transparent transfer and posting of judges, and opposition to the recent constitutional amendments. This echoes the historic 2007-2009 Lawyers’ Movement that ultimately forced General Pervez Musharraf to resign. Analysts at the time widely believed that while lawyers provided the public face and moral momentum, certain sections within the establishment itself had grown weary of Musharraf and quietly facilitated his exit.

 The current movement, though presented as purely legalistic, may carry similar undertones. Behind the rhetoric of rule of law lie motives that could serve larger political realignments. If the lawyers’ agitation gains street traction especially with planned gatherings in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa and even overseas it could create the kind of pressure that forces concessions or accelerates political instability.

Pakistan’s political history demonstrates that no government enjoys a natural lifespan beyond two to three years without facing serious turbulence. The current administration under Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif, now in its third year since the 2024 elections, is already confronting mounting criticism. Detractors argue that despite some macroeconomic stabilisation through IMF programmes, the government has fallen short on the economic front persistent structural weaknesses, high debt burdens, and sluggish growth continue to haunt ordinary citizens.

 On the international front, diplomatic manoeuvring has yielded mixed results amid regional complexities. Meaningful reforms in taxation, energy, governance, and public sector enterprises remain largely on paper, while allegations of corruption and elite capture persist. These failures provide fertile ground for opposition forces to mobilise. In the coming months, the government is likely to face intensified challenges. A combination of economic discontent, judicial activism, and religious-political agitation could test its resilience. Whether these developments are organic expressions of public frustration or carefully orchestrated signals remains debatable. What is certain is that Maulana Fazl-ur-Rehman’s ignition and the lawyers’ renewed activism are not random. They reflect the classic Pakistani pattern where power struggles, constitutional battles, and personal ambitions intersect at opportune moments.

As the political temperature rises, one thing remains constant: in Pakistan, the real game is often played behind the visible actors. The coming weeks will reveal whether these moves lead to meaningful course correction or simply another cycle of instability.