Here are my responses to Raymond Ibrahim’s request for information on the challenges faced by Christians in Pakistan. These contributions formed the basis of his article (here).
Christians in Pakistan: A Struggle for Survival and Success
In Pakistan, Christians face systemic barriers that make success incredibly difficult. These challenges are deeply ingrained in the social, economic, and political fabric of the country. Christians are often relegated to the most dangerous and menial jobs, with very little opportunity for upward mobility.
Approximately 86% of Pak-Christians are relegated to low-status, blue-collar jobs, such as cleaning sewers, sweeping streets, and working in brick kilns and carpet factories. These jobs are not only physically gruelling and dangerous but are also seen as socially “beneath” Muslims, making them perfect for marginalized Christians, who are often considered a “pariah” class in Pakistani society. Provincial governments perpetuate this discrimination by actively promoting Christian or minority-only applications for roles such as sewage cleaners and sweepers, further entrenching the belief that these jobs are suitable only for non-Muslims. Christians who take on these roles are subjected to a constant barrage of mistreatment.
Christian sweepers, in particular, face brutal bullying, physical violence, and even death threats, for minor offenses such as getting dirt on a Muslim while cleaning, or not stopping their work when a Muslim is nearby. The idea that the “dirt” of a Christian might contaminate a Muslim is deeply ingrained in the social hierarchy, and any perceived impurity can lead to severe punishment or murder. Additionally, Christian workers are often forced to carry out unpaid or low-paid tasks for Muslims, such as stopping their work to perform menial services or cleaning areas outside their assigned duties, on demand. Failure to comply with these demands can result in beatings, humiliation, or even death. Even a Christian sweeper who was duly elected as Chairman of the All Sweepers Union faced brutal assaults, both within his supervisor’s office and outside a court premises. For many Christians, justice is an unreachable ideal in a society where their rights are continually eroded and dismissed.
In some cases, a Christian worker might be attacked for not immediately responding to the demands of a local Muslim who is impatient or believes they are entitled to immediate service. The disregard for the dignity and safety of Christians in these jobs is systemic, and the abuse they face is normalized as part of the deeply entrenched caste system that dehumanizes them as “unclean” and “inferior.”
One of the most hazardous jobs that a large portion of the Christian community is forced to take on is manual labour in sewage systems. Christians in Pakistan who work in sanitation clean sewers in outdated, dangerous Victorian-era systems. They do this work without proper protective equipment (PPE), which exposes them to severe health risks. There are disturbing videos that show workers entering disease-ridden sewers, sometimes wearing only minimal clothing like their underwear, because they lack the necessary safety gear. The death toll from these dangerous jobs is high, yet families of the deceased receive no compensation, leaving them even more impoverished.
In rural Pakistan, where access to education is often nonexistent and poverty is widespread, many Christian families face impossible choices. Parents who cannot afford to send their children to school—whether due to high transportation costs or the need for the children to contribute to the family’s survival—are forced to put their young ones to work from a very early age. Child workers are often subjected to brutal treatment, including physical abuse, rape, and sodomy, and in extreme cases, even murder. In some cases, children as young as four are sent to work in dangerous conditions, often in brick kilns or as domestic laborers. By the age of 13, it is almost inevitable that children working in brick kilns or carpet weaving factories will be expected to contribute to the family’s labour under a system of debt bondage. This is part of a generational cycle of exploitation. When parents sign contracts with brick kiln or carpet factory owners—often illiterate and unable to sign their names—they use a thumbprint to formalize the agreement, effectively indenturing their entire family to repay the debts, which are often passed down across generations. These children are enslaved, forced to work long hours in harsh conditions, with little or no pay, until their debt is supposedly repaid. However, the debt is always manipulated to ensure that the cycle of exploitation continues, leaving families trapped in poverty for generations.
The ineffectiveness of antislavery laws, such as The Bonded Labour System (Abolition) Act of 1992, is starkly illustrated by the life and tragic death of Iqbal Masih. After escaping child slavery in a carpet factory, Iqbal bravely fought to save over 3,000 children from similar conditions, becoming a global symbol of resistance against bonded labour. However, his first escape was cut short when corrupt police, prioritizing a “finder’s fee” over justice, returned him to his captors. This appalling act exemplifies the corruption and deep-seated apathy toward the plight of Christian children in Pakistan. Iqbal’s journey ended when he was murdered at just 12 years old, a cruel reminder of the challenges faced by those who dare to confront the entrenched system of exploitation.
Although some Christians in Pakistan have managed to achieve success, their path is fraught with insurmountable obstacles, and even their accomplishments often come at great personal cost. In higher education, the challenges are especially severe. Christian students are systematically discriminated against, with one of the key hurdles being the extra educational points Muslim students receive for studying the Quran. As a result, Christian students are forced to perform at an even higher level to compete on an equal footing. Once they graduate, they often struggle to obtain their degrees or certificates, as many institutions are staffed by xenophobic employees who deliberately obstruct their progress.
2012 article in The Tribune, a Pakistani newspaper, highlighted the disheartening experiences of highly educated minority professionals who left well-paid but somewhat unstable private sector jobs for what they hoped would be respected and secure civil service positions. However, despite their qualifications, they were dismayed to find themselves relegated to menial roles under a quota system intended to promote employment equity. These individuals were effectively downgraded to positions commonly associated with “chuhras”—a derogatory term for Christians and a label traditionally linked to street sweepers. This treatment was not only an insult to their professional skills but also a stark reminder of the persistent discrimination minorities face in the public sector.
Even after securing employment, Christians face discrimination in the workplace. They are routinely passed over for promotions, even when more qualified, solely because of their faith. If a Christian is fortunate enough to hold a supervisory position, they are often subjected to intense scrutiny, harassment, and physical violence, especially if their subordinates are Muslim. The environment becomes one of constant fear, as the slightest provocation can lead to violent retaliation.
In particular, one of the most insidious dangers Christians face is the constant risk of false blasphemy accusations. These accusations can be levied at any time, often without evidence, and they are routinely used to settle personal grudges or to target those who rise above their prescribed social status. A tragic example is the extrajudicial killing of Nazir Masih in May 2024. Masih, a successful businessman who owned a thriving shoe company, was targeted for his achievements and ultimately lost his life due to an unfounded blasphemy allegation. Even in universities—where you would expect a higher level of education, tolerance, and critical thinking—blasphemy allegations are weaponized. It is not uncommon for a Christian student or academic to be falsely accused of blasphemy, with the resulting violence often involving not just individuals but entire student bodies. In many of these incidents, thousands of Muslim students are complicit in the attacks, further exacerbating the severity of the assault. Tragically, some minority students have been killed or incarcerated in these environments, where intellectual rigor and basic humanity are overshadowed by deeply entrenched religious fanaticism and the sense of “defilement” that many Muslims feel simply by being in the presence of a Christian.
Thus, for Christians in Pakistan, even in academic spaces that are supposed to be sanctuaries of knowledge and reason, the spectre of violence, discrimination, and blasphemy allegations is ever-present—proving that, for many, the struggle for equality and safety is constant, no matter how accomplished or educated they may be.
Living Under Siege: The Psychological Toll of Blasphemy Allegations on Pakistan’s Christians
Living under the constant threat of a blasphemy accusation is psychologically devastating, especially for Christians in Pakistan, where an allegation alone can lead to mob violence, social ostracization, imprisonment, a death sentence, or even extrajudicial lynching. This danger is starkly illustrated by the National Commission for Justice and Peace (NCJP) data showing that, between 1986 and 2015, 537 people were accused under Pakistan’s blasphemy laws. Although Muslims formed the majority at 47% (633 individuals), religious minorities—comprising only a fraction of Pakistan’s population—represented over 50% of accusations: 494 were Ahmadi (37%) and 187 were Christian (14%). Despite Christians making up only 1.6% of the population, they represented a disproportionately high 14% of all blasphemy allegations, underscoring the heightened risks for this group.
Moreover, the Centre for Social Justice reported in 2022 that 30% of extrajudicial killings related to blasphemy targeted Christians, highlighting their vulnerability within an already persecuted minority. For Pakistani Christians, there is a constant, pervasive fear that any action or statement, intentional or not, could be misinterpreted as blasphemous, leading to devastating consequences. This fear is not abstract; it is painfully real, as evidenced by the tens of thousands who have fled to countries like Thailand, Sri Lanka, and Malaysia on tourist visas, seeking safety from the threat of blasphemy-related violence.
The impact of blasphemy allegations on communities is profound and destructive. Numerous incidents such as the large-scale riots in Christian neighbourhoods like Gojra, St. Joseph’s Colony, Jaranwala, and Korian show how a single accusation can spark mob violence that razes homes, businesses, and lives, forcing entire communities to flee in search of safety. These patterns of persecution reveal the deep psychological toll on a community that lives each day under the shadow of potential blasphemy accusations.
The weight of this fear is also evident in the sacrifices of people like Bishop John Joseph a cousin of my husband Wilson Chowdhry’s mother, who took his own life in 1998 in a desperate attempt to bring global attention to the plight of Pakistan’s Christians. His anguish grew from witnessing the relentless persecution of his community, especially the blasphemy death sentence imposed on Ayub Masih in 1996. His tragic death was a testament to the intense mental and emotional strain of advocating for a community continually under threat. Despite his sacrifice, the situation has only worsened. Blasphemy accusations have become more frequent, and the impact on the Christian minority is expanding, contributing to an accelerating exodus of Christians from the country.
Compounding these pressures, reports like the one from the Muslim NGO Movement for Solidarity and Peace estimate that over 700 Christian girls are abducted, raped, and forced into Islamic marriages every year. This number continues to grow, contributing to a declining Christian population. Even former Ambassador to the UK Wajid Shamsul Haq, who in 2010 asserted that conversions to Christianity were outpacing conversions to Islam, would likely be alarmed by the number of Christians leaving Pakistan for safer regions.
Imagine the mental toll of living in a society where justice is rarely served for crimes against your community. For instance, the 1 million Christian families working in the brick kilns face constant threats of violence, their daughters and wives are vulnerable to abduction and sexual assault. Families who resist blood-money settlements or refuse to forgive and exonerate their wives or daughters’ attackers are often met with blasphemy threats or physical retaliation. Without access to mental health resources, this unending cycle of terror and injustice leaves Pakistani Christians feeling trapped, marginalized, and vulnerable to trauma that shapes every aspect of their daily lives.
Unwritten Rules: How Pakistani Christians Navigate Daily Life Under the Threat of Blasphemy Allegations
In Pakistan, Christians must navigate an array of unwritten social “rules” to avoid attracting negative attention or risking blasphemy accusations. To avoid offense, many Christians limit friendships with Muslims and often live in Christian enclaves, where they feel relatively safer to express their faith. Interfaith disputes are typically resolved through local councils, or panchayats, where Christians often receive the harshest outcomes, with little recourse for appeal.
In workplaces, Christians avoid disagreements and endure derogatory remarks about their faith, institutions, or women without complaint. Those in low-wage or custodial jobs, like sweepers, experience frequent physical abuse; many are beaten simply for allegedly not performing their work adequately and, despite their cries, do not speak out for fear of worsening their situation.
A Muslim man, chanting “Allahu Akbar” while rocking on a cross atop a church roof to intimidate parishioners, fell off and received first aid from church members.
Churches frequently agree to contracted concessions to avoid offending the Muslim majority: they might refrain from using loudspeakers, seat men and women separately, change service times, or instruct members not to openly mention Jesus or Christian terms after leaving the premises. Visible signs of Christianity, like cross jewellery, are avoided, especially in mixed or Muslim neighbourhoods. Homes are typically free of outward symbols of Christianity unless in a Christian area where displaying scripture or crosses feels safer.
When a church is vandalized, Christians often refrain from direct intervention, hoping that the police will arrive in time to prevent further damage. In 2002, for instance, Christians in Lahore demonstrated remarkable restraint when they chose to care for a Muslim vandal who had fallen from the roof while attempting to desecrate their church. They refused to let his friends take him away until the police arrived, understanding that any action they took could be misinterpreted and escalate the situation. This restraint is driven by the fear that defending their property could be construed as blasphemy, leading to severe consequences.
Despite this, many still find the courage to protect the vulnerable in their community, especially women and fellow Christians facing immediate harm, even at great personal risk. A more recent example occurred in Gujranwala, where a church was attacked with guns and rocks after members tried to shield young girls and boys from harassment by a group of Muslim men. This incident underscores the difficult choices Christians must make between protecting one another and risking violent retaliation in a climate fraught with tension and prejudice.
Even under police oversight, meetings meant to mediate conflicts are often conducted with an emphasis on being “Sharia-compliant” rather than equitable, further embedding the idea that Christians must accept unfair treatment. Many of these behaviours – keeping quiet, blending in, showing deference—reflect the constant vigilance that Christians in Pakistan must exercise to avoid violence, imprisonment, or worse.
The Hidden Motives Behind Mob Violence in Pakistan: A Systemic Hatred Masked as Religious Zeal
When mobs in Pakistan destroy homes, desecrate churches, and attack Christian communities over alleged blasphemy incidents, it’s often not an act of pure religious fervour. Instead, these attacks frequently mask personal grudges, societal prejudice, and a deep-rooted hatred for non-Muslims. The blasphemy allegation becomes a socially accepted pretext that allows people to carry out acts of extreme violence without fear of reprisal, often with community support and institutional backing.
In one of the most tragic cases, Shama and Shahzad, two brick kiln workers, were falsely accused of burning pages of the Quran. Their accuser used his connections to spread the accusation through local mosques, which called upon the community to punish the supposed blasphemers. The couple were stripped and beaten, then Shama was then gang-raped before Shazad, after which they were dragged by a tractor, and ultimately burned alive in a brick kiln. It has been reported that police remained present but inactive during the attack. In many such cases, similar blasphemy allegations originate from personal grievances or vendettas, with mosque PA systems weaponized to broadcast calls for “justice,” leading to mob actions that are both brutal and unchallenged.
Another notorious incident in Gojra in 2009 saw an entire Christian neighbourhood decimated, with seven Christians—including a bride and groom—shot dead, churches destroyed, and hundreds of homes reduced to ashes. The violence was spurred by a fabricated story from a Muslim man, claiming that Christian family members had torn up a Quran and used the pages as confetti. Investigations later revealed there was no basis for the accusation, but by then, the damage was done. This horrific incident, among others, galvanized the international community and contributed to the formation of human rights advocacy groups.
Since 2015, Pakistan has been listed as a country of concern by the UK Foreign Office, since 2017 by the U.S. Commission on International Religious Freedom, A 2011 report linked this increase in fanaticism partly to Pakistan’s provincial curriculums, which often demonizes and caricatures Christians, labelling them as “Western spies.” Despite attempts to soften the language, 50% of the offensive material was simply replaced with new, xenophobic content a 2016 report stated. Textbooks still exclude positive mentions of Christians, reinforcing an “us versus them” mentality that begins early in a child’s education.
The hatred against Christians has only grown through increasingly hardline mosque teachings, partly a result of Saudi Arabia’s funding of more conservative mosques and madrassas. Groups like Tehreek-e-Labbaik, openly supported by certain political figures, play a significant role in instigating anti-Christian rhetoric. When Asia Bibi, a Christian woman, was acquitted of blasphemy by Pakistan’s Supreme Court in 2018, the nation witnessed a massive uproar, with hundreds of thousands of protestors taking to the streets demanding her execution. The government and the court were compelled to consider an unwarranted petition in response to the violent demonstrations, even though the acquittal was later upheld. This incident underscores the widespread and visceral hatred of Christians that pervades society at large, extending far beyond so-called “extremist groups.”
The intolerance has also permeated higher education institutions, with documented cases of university faculty and students physically attacking minority students who voice differing views. This behaviour is not simply a byproduct of poverty or rural isolation; rather, it’s a national issue reinforced by widespread social conditioning. Many attacks occur in rural Pakistan, where conservative madrassas preach extreme forms of Islam, but even urban, educated Pakistanis have been found complicit in acts of anti-Christian violence.
This hostility is woven into Pakistan’s social fabric, transcending social and economic boundaries, and is perpetuated through state-supported curricula, radical preaching, and a media culture that vilifies minorities. Christians in Pakistan live in constant fear, not merely of radical groups but of an entire society conditioned to view them as inferior and deserving of punishment. The violence they face is a symptom of deeply ingrained prejudices, handed down through generations, and is unlikely to diminish without significant systemic reform.
The Impunity of Violence in Blasphemy Cases: A Grim Reality for Christians in Pakistan
When it comes to violence perpetrated in the name of blasphemy, the likelihood of perpetrators facing punishment is alarmingly low. In many cases, those who commit acts of violence against accused individuals are acquitted shortly after being detained, even when there is overwhelming evidence against them. A stark example of this is the Gojra incident, where individuals were involved in the murder of innocent people yet escaped meaningful consequences.
Despite existing laws intended to protect citizens from mob violence, including stringent laws with death penalties for murder and protections against false blasphemy accusations, these legal frameworks are rarely enforced. Several factors contribute to this troubling situation.
Firstly, there is pervasive apathy and xenophobia among authorities toward Christians, often resulting in a reluctance to take action against aggressors. Additionally, many law enforcement officials and members of the judiciary fear retribution from extremist groups, which further deters them from seeking justice for victims of violence. The assassinations of judges and politicians who have supported the release of individuals accused of blasphemy only heighten this atmosphere of fear.
We remember the martyrs who paid the ultimate price for standing against injustice. Federal Minister for Minorities Shahbaz Bhatti, a staunch advocate for religious freedom, was assassinated for his bold opposition to the misuse of blasphemy laws. Punjab Governor Salmaan Taseer was slain for calling for reforms to these laws and supporting the release of Asia Bibi, a Christian woman falsely accused of blasphemy. In 1997, retired Lahore High Court Justice Arif Iqbal Bhatti was also murdered, nearly three years after he had acquitted two Christian teenagers accused of blasphemy. Their sacrifices serve as a poignant reminder of the grave dangers faced by those who seek justice for Pakistan’s religious minorities.
Worse still, the adherence to draconian Sharia laws, such as Qisas and Diyat, allows perpetrators of violent acts—including murder and rape—to evade justice by paying “blood money.” This compromise often results in a chilling effect on the pursuit of justice, as Christian leaders are compelled to accept these payments during local gatherings (panchayats) heavily attended by Muslims, where the Christian community is often outnumbered by a ratio of 10 to 1.
While these leaders accept payments not out of a desire for monetary compensation but as a means to bring an end to the threats and violence from the families and supporters of the aggressors, it underscores the desperation of the Christian community in seeking safety in an environment rife with hostility. The cycle of violence and impunity continues, leaving Christians vulnerable and without adequate protection under the law.
The Complex Dynamics of Religious Persecution in Pakistan
Your assumption about the motivations behind religious persecution in Pakistan oversimplifies a deeply intricate issue. While it may seem that the government and upper-class Muslims are indifferent to Christians and sacrifice them to appease the Muslim underclass, this perspective doesn’t capture the full extent of societal and institutional prejudice.
Though some elite individuals are indeed less fanatical, this does not account for the widespread violence and entrenched discrimination faced by Christians. Cases like university students beating someone to death over a blasphemy accusation reflect a broader, deep-seated hostility within society. Similarly, the brutal assault on a headteacher in Kasur, potentially triggered by a personal rivalry, illustrates how quickly conflicts can escalate due to the perception of Christians as ritually impure, believed to taint the Muslim faith through interaction.
Religious clerics, many of whom are educated and wield substantial power and influence, often incite hatred against Christians. This is not simply a matter of poverty or lack of education. These figures use their privileged positions to foster division, even though they are far removed from the struggles of the underclass. The role of government officials, too, is significant. General Zia ul-Haq, who intensified the Islamization of Pakistan’s blasphemy laws, and other educated leaders have historically enforced discriminatory practices, cementing intolerance into Pakistan’s legal framework. Zia, who had a Western education at St. Stephen’s College in Delhi and served in the British-led army, nevertheless led Pakistan down a path that marginalized religious minorities, particularly Christians.
Discrimination is pervasive within institutions, not just among the general populace. For example, doctors in Lahore have been documented refusing to treat Christian patients to avoid defilement. Local government offices continue to reinforce segregation by limiting Christians and other minorities to roles as sanitation workers, suggesting an institutionalized, rather than incidental, prejudice.
The assumption that religious persecution is driven purely by appeasing the underclass doesn’t account for the active role that various elements of society—including powerful clerics, government leaders, and respected institutions—play in sustaining anti-Christian sentiment. The persecution of Christians in Pakistan arises from a complex interplay of historical, social, religious and political forces, making it far more than just an offering to placate certain segments of society.
The stories of Christian persecution in Pakistan are heartbreaking, but you have the power to make a difference. Our charity is dedicated to helping those affected by such violence and injustice. We provide safe houses for rape survivors, blasphemy victims, and their families, offering them a chance to rebuild their lives. We build clean water wells to restore dignity and health, sparing women in rural areas from dangerous, often life-threatening trips where they are at risk of assault. We offer legal advocacy for blasphemy victims and persecuted Christians, helping them fight for justice. Through education and microbusinesses, we work to alleviate poverty within Christian communities, and we advocate globally for a fair asylum process for those escaping persecution. Your support allows us to continue and expand this vital work. Make a real impact today by donating (here).