Today, Soomro’s name is largely absent from Pakistan’s textbooks and official narratives.

In the narrative of Pakistan’s creation, the story is often framed as a unified struggle for a Muslim homeland. Yet, this overlooks the voices of dissent, none more compelling than Allah Bux Mohammed Umar Soomro, the former Premier of Sindh. A devout Muslim and staunch Indian nationalist, Soomro rejected the Muslim League’s Two-Nation Theory, advocating for a secular, united India. His defiance of Muhammad Ali Jinnah and his mysterious assassination in 1943 expose the contradictions and betrayals at the heart of Pakistan’s founding.

A Muslim Nationalist’s Stand

Allah Bux Soomro was no ordinary leader. As Premier of Sindh, he refused to let his Muslim identity be weaponized for political ends. Aligning with Mahatma Gandhi and the Indian National Congress, he championed a vision of India where civic identity trumped religious divides. “I am first an Indian and then a Muslim,” he declared, a statement that encapsulated his commitment to pluralism and unity.

His principles were matched by action. In 1942, Soomro returned his knighthood, a prestigious British honor, as a protest against colonial oppression and in support of the Quit India Movement. This bold move infuriated the British and alienated pro-British Muslim leaders, marking him as a true nationalist. While the Muslim League, led by Jinnah, avoided the Quit India Movement, Soomro’s government backed it, further antagonizing both colonial authorities and the League, which saw Sindh as crucial to its Pakistan agenda.

A Threat to Jinnah’s Vision

By 1943, Soomro’s influence was growing beyond Sindh, reaching Punjab and the North-West Frontier Province (now Khyber Pakhtunkhwa). His message of secularism and unity resonated with Muslims who saw no conflict between their faith and Indian identity. This alarmed the Muslim League, which relied on communalism to consolidate power. Soomro’s popularity threatened Jinnah’s narrative that only the League spoke for India’s Muslims.

Jinnah viewed Soomro as a formidable obstacle, publicly dismissing him as a “Congress stooge.” Soomro’s principled stand made him a target, not just in Sindh but in regions critical to the League’s vision of Pakistan. His ability to rally diverse communities around a pluralist ideal posed a direct challenge to the League’s momentum.

A Mysterious Death

On May 14, 1943, Allah Bux Soomro was assassinated near Shikarpur, Sindh, reportedly by a hired killer posing as a beggar. The official account cited personal motives, but the political context suggests otherwise. Soomro had been ousted from his premiership under pressure from the British and the Muslim League. His rising influence, particularly as his ideas spread to Punjab, made him a threat to Jinnah’s communal agenda. The timing of his death, just as his vision gained traction, points to a calculated act to silence dissent.

Maulana Abul Kalam Azad, a leading Muslim nationalist and Congress president, mourned Soomro’s death as a blow to India’s unity. In India Wins Freedom, Azad praised him as a “man of great character,” lamenting the loss of a leader driven by conscience, not communalism. The murder was not just a personal tragedy but a blow to the vision of a united India.

Erased from History

Today, Soomro’s name is largely absent from Pakistan’s textbooks and official narratives. This erasure is deliberate. His life and death challenge the myth that Pakistan was the unanimous will of Indian Muslims. Many Muslims, like Soomro, opposed partition, advocating for a democratic, pluralist India. His assassination silenced a voice that could have altered South Asia’s trajectory, sparing it the horrors of division.

The hypocrisy is stark: a movement claiming to protect Muslim interests eliminated a Muslim leader who dared to prioritize unity over division. Soomro’s death was not at the hands of Islam’s foes but those who used faith to justify power. His murder underscores the cost of dissent in a movement that brooked no opposition.

A Legacy for Today

As Pakistan grapples with religious extremism and identity crises, Soomro’s story holds vital lessons. The unresolved tensions of its founding—when voices like his were silenced—continue to shape its challenges. Glorifying myths about Pakistan’s creation only deepens these divides. Honoring Soomro means confronting the uncomfortable truths of the past and embracing the values he died for: democracy, justice, and interfaith harmony.

Allah Bux Soomro was more than a Sindhi leader; he was a symbol of what South Asia could have been—a region united by shared ideals, not torn by faith. His mysterious death remains a haunting reminder of the price paid for dissent and the enduring need to reclaim his vision of unity.

More than seven decades later, Pakistan still bears the scars of its confused foundation.

He ate pork, drank alcohol, couldn’t speak Urdu, had no connection to the Quran, and didn’t even know the Kalma. Yet, because he bore a Muslim name and wore the garb of political leadership, Mohammad Ali Jinnah rose to prominence and led the movement that birthed a new nation—Pakistan—with the full blessings of British colonial rule.

Pakistan was founded in the name of Islam. But the man who led its creation was far from a practicing Muslim. Jinnah’s lifestyle mirrored that of an English-educated barrister: refined suits, cigars, and Western social norms. He neither lived by Islamic principles nor claimed to understand them deeply. When someone once asked him the meaning of the Kalma, he reportedly shrugged it off with the words: “I am a political leader of Muslims, not a cleric or religious scholar.”

Yet today, he is revered in Pakistan as Qaid-e-Azam—the Great Leader. His image is printed on currency notes, his speeches are quoted in schoolbooks, and his vision is routinely invoked in national debates. But how fitting is that title when the man himself lived a life far removed from the very faith he claimed to represent?

The contradiction at the heart of Pakistan’s creation is not just ironic—it is deeply consequential. When a country is born claiming a religious identity, yet its founder is disconnected from that religion, the confusion seeps into every layer of national life. It becomes a country where Islam is invoked not as a guiding moral force, but as a political tool. Where slogans are louder than substance. Where identity is built on emotion rather than ethical clarity.

What kind of example does that set for future generations? How can a people reconcile a faith-based nationalism with a founding figure who lived by anti-Islamic standards?

Since its creation in 1947, Pakistan has struggled to answer these questions. The country has oscillated between military dictatorships and fragile civilian governments, between radical Islamism and half-hearted liberalism. Minorities have faced persecution, sectarianism has grown deep roots, and the vision of unity under Islam has fractured into violent ideological battles.

Jinnah’s legacy plays a central role in this national confusion. To some, he is a visionary who protected Muslim interests in a Hindu-majority India. But to others, he remains a symbol of political opportunism—someone who used the Muslim identity to achieve a personal goal and left behind a nation with no clear ideological direction.

His early death, just a year after Pakistan’s birth, only amplified the ambiguity. Without his presence, competing forces pulled the country in different directions, each claiming to act in his name. Some insisted he wanted a secular Pakistan. Others claimed he dreamed of an Islamic state. The truth? He likely wanted whatever served his immediate political needs.

More than seven decades later, Pakistan still bears the scars of its confused foundation. It is a country where Islam is both everywhere and nowhere—present in slogans, but absent in governance and justice. It is a country where the founding myth glorifies a man whose private beliefs were at odds with the nation’s supposed mission.

This is not just a matter of historical debate—it is a living contradiction that defines the Pakistani identity to this day. Jinnah may have delivered a country, but he left behind no compass. His legacy is not one of clarity or conviction, but of ambiguity and bloodshed.

In the end, the story of Pakistan’s creation is not just about the formation of a new state—it’s a lesson in what happens when religious identity is exploited for political ambition. A nation built on such shaky ground may rise, but it will always tremble under the weight of its contradictions.

In a striking piece titled “All Roads Lead to Pakistan,” Blackburn deploys rhyme and rhythm to weave together a litany of global terror attacks — from the 9/11 bombings in New York and the 7/7 transit attacks in London, to the 2008 Mumbai carnage and unrest in Kashmir. Each stanza ends with a refrain that echoes his central argument: “All roads, all roads lead to Pakistan.”

The poem, now circulating widely across social media platforms, takes aim at Pakistan’s role as a hub for extremist networks. Though not an unfamiliar assertion in diplomatic circles, Blackburn’s decision to express this through verse has added a layer of emotional resonance that policy reports and press briefings rarely capture.

9/11, 7/7 — the skies burned red,
The flags of terror left defenceless dead.
From cave to command, from plot to plan,
All roads, all roads lead to Pakistan.
26/11 — Mumbai bled,
Ash and flame where children fled.
22/4 — in Pahalgam’s grace,
A meadow fell — a shattered place.
From Kalashnikov to prayer and ban,
All roads, all roads lead to Pakistan.
New York weeps, and London mourns,
Bali’s beaches, Kashmir’s thorns.
From training camps to hidden hand,
The signal’s clear, the airwaves scanned —
Terror stirs where shadows span:
All roads, all roads lead to Pakistan.

A specialist in international relations and counterterrorism, Blackburn has been a frequent commentator in European think tank discussions on radicalization, cross-border extremism, and human rights in South Asia. His current role with the EBF — a group that advocates for secularism and minority rights in Bangladesh — has brought him closer to diaspora concerns about religious extremism and state complicity.

His poetic pivot comes amid growing scrutiny of Pakistan’s domestic policies and its relationships with jihadist groups. The Financial Action Task Force (FATF), which had previously grey-listed the country for terror financing concerns, lifted the designation in 2022 — a move that critics like Blackburn viewed as premature.

The poem’s structure is simple, almost nursery-like in its cadence, but its content is anything but gentle. References to “Kalashnikov to prayer and ban” and “terror stirs where shadows span” leave little ambiguity about Blackburn’s message: international terrorism, regardless of where it strikes, has operational links that often trace back to Islamabad’s orbit.

Whether praised for its courage or criticized for its bluntness, “All Roads Lead to Pakistan” has succeeded in sparking conversation — and perhaps that was Blackburn’s goal all along.

S M Faiyaz Hossain

Cultural and religious minorities in Bangladesh are also suffering due to rising extremism.

The New York Times published a report titled “As Bangladesh Reinvents Itself, Islamist Hard-Liners See an Opening,” detailing the rise of Islamist extremism in Bangladesh during political changes. The report discusses how religious extremists are taking advantage after the removal of former leader Sheikh Hasina. 

It highlights incidents like bans on women’s soccer and public harassment of women who do not follow conservative dress codes. 

There have been rallies demanding the death penalty for actions seen as blasphemy. The report notes that some Islamist groups, including previously banned ones, are pushing for stricter religious rules in the government. 

Officials are working on a new constitution that might change secularism to pluralism. This shift is causing concern over weakening democratic values and increasing risks for women and minorities.

Bangladesh used to be known for its secular roots and cultural diversity, but in recent years, extremist ideas have been resurfacing. Although this isn’t an entirely new foundation, it has become more noticeable and concerning since 5^th of August 2024.

Extremists are attacking secular bloggers and targeting women’s sports and cultural events. Their goal is to impose strict religious views or a political caliphate on a society that values diversity. This rise in extremist actions is worrying because it threatens freedoms, especially those of women and minorities, and poses a danger to the country’s democratic setup. 

A particularly troubling aspect is the attack on women’s rights to participate in public life. For example, some women’s football matches had to be cancelled because of threats from extremist groups. This shows how these groups are trying to take over spaces that were once empowering for women. Sports provide young women with opportunities to move up socially and gain international recognition, but these are now under threat. 

Such actions not only limit their dreams but also send a negative message about the shrinking space for women in public and professional life. It reflects a broader aim to suppress women’s rights under the guise of religious morality, harming the progress made in gender equality over the years.

Lifting bans on Islamist political parties like Jamat-e-Islami and freeing extremists like Mufti Jashimuddin Rahmani known as the Anwar Al Awlaki of Bangladesh, give these groups more confidence. While the interim government might claim these actions are part of a broader peace strategy, they risk legitimizing extremist ideas and giving them a platform to grow. 

Inadequate systems to monitor released extremists make the situation worse, providing spaces for radical elements to regroup and plan for something like the meticulously planned October 7^th Attack orchestrated by Hamas. 

Meanwhile, a banned organization like Notorious Hizbut Tahrir openly propagated their influence and participation in Anti-Quota protest which for them was a tactical Jihad to oust the exiled Government and get a step ahead for their future plan of implementing a Caliphate. 

This political leniency by Interim Government weakens public trust in governance and helps extremist narratives spread, they have made few arrests while the extremist leaders are free and that questions if arresting the activists while ignoring the leadership is a soft ploy to leverage a tactical narrative. 

Cultural and religious minorities in Bangladesh are also suffering due to rising extremism. Attacks on Sufi shrines and other minority religious sites highlight an increase in intolerance. These aren’t isolated events but part of a plan to make all of Bangladeshi society conform to strict ideological rules. 

Targeting cultural figures, authors, and artists underlines this trend, aiming to silence voices of dissent and alternative perspectives. Such actions threaten Bangladesh’s rich culture, traditionally a mix of diverse influences. We must also consider socio-economic factors driving this phenomenon.

Poverty, unemployment, and lack of access to education create conditions where extremist views can take root. Young people, especially those from marginalized backgrounds, often join these movements seeking a sense of identity, purpose, or community. 

Extremist groups exploit these vulnerabilities using targeted propaganda and recruitment strategies, often through social media. Addressing these foundational issues requires comprehensive policies that promote inclusive development and foster social unity. 

Political Researcher and former Pentagon Official Michael Rubin, in a US Congressional briefing highlighted the growing concern of Radicalization in Bangladesh and opinionated an article ‘Is Bangladesh the Next Afghanistan’. 

Rubin is worried about how Noble Laurate Yunus is leading because it seems less tolerant than people expected. This is particularly true about how the government handles freedom of the press and different political views. 

Yunus is famous around the world for his work in microfinance, which helps poor people with small loans. He took charge of the interim government after Sheikh Hasina was removed from power. 

At first, many welcomed Yunus because they thought he would be different from Hasina, who was seen as too controlling. But Rubin thinks Yunus’s government is letting strict Islamist groups have too much power and is stopping people from speaking freely, which could hurt democracy. 

Rubin is especially concerned about the freedom of the press under Yunus’s rule. Some journalists, like Farzana Rupa and Shakil Ahmed, have reportedly been brutally jailed on vague and ambiguous murder charges, raising fears about free speech in Bangladesh.

Over 1,000 journalists seen as “too secular” have reportedly been fired, showing a lack of tolerance for different opinions. Rubin also mentions problems faced by Julfikar Ali Manik, who reports on Islamist groups, and former Member of Parliament Fazle Karim Chowdhury, who works to protect minority rights. 

These issues suggest that Yunus’s temporary government might not be supporting the diversity and human rights that are important for democracy.

Increasingly, people are showing public support for Hamas, which is a growing concern. This support is visible in rallies and in the way some individuals dress to symbolize the group. 

Bangladesh, for many years, has had a clear stance against Israel. It has consistently supported Palestine through diplomatic efforts and has officially recognized only the Fatah-led government based in the West Bank. However, there is a noticeable rise in grassroots support for Hamas, especially in the wake of the ongoing Israel-Gaza conflict. 

In this situation, extremists have spoken out against American interests in Bangladesh. Recently, some Islamists verbally called for aggressive protests in the U.S. Embassy in Dhaka. Along with Anti-India rhetoric, hatred for Trump’s America and Israel are seen. 

These tensions are fuelled by foreign policy support for Israel. The Interim Government was supposed to carry forward a Peaceful transition towards Democratic Election, while the reality looks, they have political interests to gain in the name of ‘reform’. 

Serving the interests, they are currently capitalizing on Islamists for majority support while being harsh and harsher on Secularists, Awami league activists, minorities and anyone associated with the 1971 Liberation war as tweeted by Lemkin Institute of Genocidal Prevention with multiple red flags. 

Disclaimer: Views expressed by writers in this section are their own and do not reflect Milli Chronicle’s point-of-view.