Tehreek-i-Labbaik Pakistan (TLP) has once again taken to the streets. This time in the name of Gaza. The party’s call for a protest outside the United States Embassy in Islamabad on October 10, ostensibly to condemn the Washington-brokered ceasefire between Israel and Hamas, quickly escalated into a full-scale confrontation with the state after police attempted to detain its leader, Saad Rizvi, in Lahore a day earlier.

What began as a symbolic demonstration of “solidarity” has devolved into yet another episode of chaos, disruption, and confusion. As of Saturday, parts of Punjab remain paralyzed. Containers and barbed wire have sealed over a hundred entry and exit points in Islamabad and Rawalpindi. The metro bus is suspended. Mobile networks have been cut intermittently. In several areas, ambulances are struggling to get through. For ordinary citizens; students, commuters, and traders, life has been brought to a standstill by a confrontation that, ironically, is being waged in the name of defending the Muslim ummah.

Such disruptions not only paralyse civic life but also divert administrative focus and law enforcement resources from genuine security challenges, at a time when Pakistan continues to combat terrorism on multiple fronts.

Also See: TLP Protests Continue Despite Gaza Peace Deal; Daily Life Disrupted in Pakistan’s Capital

Faith and Fury

There is no denying the emotional resonance of Palestine in Pakistan’s political imagination. The country’s public, religious parties, and even state institutions have long identified with the Palestinian cause, a cause that sits at the heart of the Muslim world’s unresolved conscience. But TLP’s selective invocation of this moral solidarity raises questions that go beyond faith.

Why is the party protesting a ceasefire that was welcomed by both Hamas and the Palestinian Authority? Why is a group with no stake in foreign diplomacy seeking to overshadow Pakistan’s principled and measured stance on Palestine, a stance  built on ideological grounds, and rooted in diplomatic engagement, humanitarian aid, and consistent advocacy for Palestinian rights on global platforms, not street theatrics? And more crucially, why do movements claiming to defend Muslim causes end up destabilising their own country instead of directing their message to those actually responsible for the injustices they decry?

The irony is painful. While Pakistan’s Foreign Office and leadership continue to raise Palestine’s case in the United Nations and the Organization of the Islamic Countries (OIC) forums, groups like TLP attempt to hijack that same cause for domestic optics. Their defiance does not project strength; it projects disunity and internal confusion to the very international actors whose double standards they claim to resist.

The contradiction lies at the heart of the problem. Self-styled street actors seeking to redefine that policy through agitation only serve to weaken it. Their protests do not advance the Palestinian cause, they exploit it for domestic relevance.

The government, for its part, handled the situation with familiar heavy-handedness. Instead of engaging politically, it responded with pre-emptive arrests and force. Baton charges and tear gas, as witnessed in Lahore and Shahdara, have only emboldened TLP’s narrative of victimhood. The state’s instinct to clamp down physically rather than negotiate strategically continues to turn small movements into national crises.

Collateral Citizens

Meanwhile, citizens from Lahore to Islamabad are paying the price for a crisis not of their making. Commuters stranded for hours, students missing exams, and small businesses shut down for days, this is the collateral damage of Pakistan’s cyclical protests. When politics and religion intertwine, it is the public that bears the burden.

The closure of roads, internet services, and intercity transport reflects a familiar script: a state bracing for confrontation rather than seeking resolution. Blocking digital access and movement may create an illusion of control, but it also deepens alienation among a populace already fatigued by political volatility and economic hardship.

Moreover, public fatigue is turning into quiet resentment. Pakistan cannot afford further social polarisation when it faces economic recovery, border management, and counterterrorism priorities.

A Test of Political Maturity

At its core, this episode is a test of whether Pakistan’s politics can mature beyond reaction and rhetoric, whether national sentiment can be expressed responsibly, or whether the streets will continue to substitute for strategy. A nation that has sacrificed so much for stability cannot afford to let emotionalism override policy. The moral impulse behind solidarity must find expression through institutions, not agitation. Faith must inspire responsibility, not unrest.

This is a moment for religious parties to introspect: devotion without discipline only breeds disorder, and piety without perspective undermines purpose. The state’s religious commitment is measured in action, diplomacy, and sacrifice, not in spectacle. What Pakistan faces today is not a crisis of faith, but of focus. Every hour spent containing domestic unrest is an hour lost from rebuilding the economy, diplomacy, and national credibility. Passion without perspective has never been a strategy.

In the end, genuine support for Palestine will be measured not by slogans or marches, but by diplomatic credibility, humanitarian assistance, and Pakistan’s sustained voice for justice on the global stage. The state must stay firm, and the people must stay clear-eyed. Stability, not spectacle, remains Pakistan’s strongest statement of solidarity. Chaos in Islamabad serves no one in Gaza.

Also See: Transactional Peace: The Cost of Trump’s Security-First Doctrine in Gaza