One hears versions of this purported hadith (a saying of the Prophet Muhammad) across Pakistan. No authenticated hadith matches it precisely. It is, nevertheless, very much in the spirit of the Prophet's thinking about the responsibilities of people to one another in a good society, which to many Muslims is synonymous with an Islamic society. Everyone should be given help, provided relief, offered assistance, and given concern, congratulations, sympathy, medical aid, and commemoration. Many of the injunctions of the Quran and Sunnah if followed privately create public goods. Public welfare is a central theme of the Quran and sirat (life of the Prophet).

The life of the Prophet contained many important lessons, such as care should be given to all, even those who are hostile to us. According to a widely told story, a woman detractor showered the Prophet daily with a bucket of refuse as he made his way past her home. But he neither got angry nor changed his route. As he passed the woman's house one day without incident, he became concerned for her welfare and visited her to inquire after her health. The Prophet's example shows that even one who is hostile is deserving of care in times of need.

By establishing the essentially humanitarian spirit of Islam, this chapter, paired with Chapter 5, determines the span of the chasm between Islamic ideals and public (that is, governmental) practices. Some of this is attributed in part to past government eagerness to prioritize military spending and territorial security and past government interest in assuming resource of and controlling activities in the traditional Muslim charitable sector.

We have seen, in the four preceding chapters, the breadth and diversity of the Islamic social welfare sector in Pakistan. Here we take our observations to the questions with which the study began. What are the political consequences—for human security, for government legitimacy, and even for inter-community harmony—of a dearth of public services provided by government and a wealth of public services provided instead by religious associations, including partisan and sectarian associations?

The comments of the Sada Welfare Foundation earlier suggest an explanation for why private religious welfare organizations can deliver welfare services better than government. Government officials themselves often lack the requisite moral sentiments. Zahida Hameed Qureshi's comment earlier suggests a reason that government should not rely on private religious welfare organizations to provide essential public goods. If charity is a gift, dependent upon voluntarism, welfare is not a right. If charity is not a right, private whims, political calculations, and discriminatory sentiments may determine to whom welfare is provided and to whom it is not provided.

What is the good of a government that does not provide essential public goods to its citizens? Religious organizations, including political parties that aim to establish an Islamic welfare state, provide the bulk of essential welfare services, including basic education, basic and emergency healthcare, such as eye and heart care, and natural emergency and disaster relief. Religious charities are often dedicated to a specific religious community. Is that not detrimental to principles of universal access to quality public services? Let us take, for example, the International Association for Relief, Care, and Development, the relief and development agency of the Muslim World League. One of its activities in Pakistan is to build masajid (mosques), to staff them with Ahl-i-Hadith teachers of the Salafi school of Islam, and to hand possession of these mosques over to local government. Mosques in Pakistan are not open to women or children and they (mosques) are rarely involved in social service work.

Pakistan is an ideal place to study the impact on government legitimacy of provision of essential welfare services by private religious associations and religiously inspired individuals. Governments in Pakistan have a state religion and the public is highly engaged in voluntary faith-inspired welfare work. The political dynamics concerning private religious charity, government legitimacy, and public security are therefore more pronounced and readily observed. The objective of this chapter is to fathom the depth of the human needs to which Muslim charitable associations in Pakistan are responding.

Millions of Pakistanis daily suffer severe physical deprivations; more than 30 percent of the population survive with purchasing power levels below the average for homeless people in the United States. Thirty percent of the population of Pakistan lives on the equivalent purchasing power in the United States of about US$7.50 per day, below levels needed to acquire essential food, clothing, shelter, sanitation, education, and medical care. Many residents of the United States do live like this. On any given night, more than 500,000 people in the United States find that they must sleep in a shelter, in a park, in a car, or on the street. And over the span of a year, more than 3.5 million US residents will be homeless. Such a life can be desperate. One might have to sleep in the open and perform all other daily necessities there. In Pakistan, tens of millions of people live like this and must accept that any formal education and professional medical attention is unaffordable and unobtainable for themselves and their children.2 Most Pakistanis have no indoor kitchen (47.7 percent at last census), no bathroom (43.6 percent), and no latrine (60.0 percent).

Demographics

Pakistan is the fifth most populous country on earth—after China, India, the United States, and Indonesia—and has the world's fourth-largest population of poor people—as measured by the Multidimensional Poverty Index (MPI)—after India, China, and Bangladesh.

A person documenting Muslim charity in South Asia will have some sympathy for Abul Fazl Allami, the wazir of Mughal Emperor Akbar. He was able to give the names of each of the wrestlers in Akbar's court and details of how many elephants, horses, camels, and mules were in the Mughal Emperor's stables and what each animal ate. But he found it impossible to make an account of all the acts of charity of the Emperor. Likewise, it would be quite impossible to describe the work of all Muslim charities in Pakistan, even those that are registered with government, or even to identify them all, within a single lifetime.

We can say with confidence that most of Pakistan's many registered Muslim charities are independent from political parties and governments. They are neither affiliated or associated with a political party or political movement nor administered or supported by a government. There are tens of thousands of such charities in Pakistan, as many, or more depending on the measures, as one finds in European countries.

In this chapter, we consider more than forty nonpartisan, nongovernmental registered Muslim charities. We discuss twenty charities in detail. The group is intended as a representative sample. There is no universe of charities from which one could draw a random sample. Provincial governments do make lists of registered charities. But these are partial and badly out of date, even in Punjab, the province with the best records. A sample drawn from these lists would be highly biased, as many registered charities are not active, and many active charities are not registered. Additionally, government-maintained lists of welfare associations do not include information on the religious motivation of founders or funders.

A political party is created with the ostensible objective of becoming a ruling party. A political party is an aspiring government. Social welfare services provided by parties often promote and maintain networks of patronage and generate sentiments that are similar to those generated by government. They create social bonds not primarily between the providers and the recipients, but more so among the providers. In Pakistan, the declared aim of many political parties, including the ruling party today, is to create an ‘Islamic Welfare State.’

This chapter discusses the social welfare activities associated with political parties and those associated with militant organizations. We discuss the charities associated with the political parties listed in Table 9.1. We also discuss charities associated with Rubina Shaheen Wattoo and her father's Pakistan Muslim League–Jinnah and those associated with the outlawed Jamaat ud Dawa, Al Rashid and Maymar Trusts.

In all cases, the relation described as an association is not legal but informal. Al Khidmat Welfare Foundation, for example, is known to be associated with the Jamaat-i-Islami and is run by senior members of the party, but the foundation has been legally separated from the party since 2004. The Shaukat Khanum Memorial Cancer Hospital and Research Center, to give another example, is connected with the Imran Khan Foundation, not the Pakistan Tehreek-i-Insaf. But the public generally regards the hospital to be associated with the party because former national cricket team captain Imran Khan founded both.

One might distinguish further between social welfare associations whose founders established political parties and social welfare associations that were created as organizations to promote the ideology of a political party. Imran Khan created the Pakistan Tehreek-i-Insaf after he had established the Shaukat Khanum Memorial Cancer Hospital. Tahir ul Qadri formed the Pakistan Awami Tehreek (PAT) after he had established the Minhaj Welfare Foundation.

A mid-morning earthquake in the mountains of Pakistan on October 8, 2005, leveled homes and schools, and killed, injured, and trapped under rubble tens of thousands of people. Within hours, people from across the country were in caravans with donations of medicine, water, food, tents, blankets, and clothes. People abandoned their jobs to become full-time volunteers for relief work. The humanitarian activity continued for months. Some volunteers stayed in the charitable sector for years. The United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs estimated correctly the number of homeless—700,000 people—but overestimated the number of tents required by hundreds of thousands, because those people whose homes were still habitable gave shelter to hundreds of thousands of strangers.

The Pakistani military began operations against the Tehreek-i-Taliban Pakistan in Swat in May 2009. To escape the Pakistan Air Force aerial bombardment and Pakistan Army artillery shelling and small arms fire, almost the entire population of the mountainous district of Swat fled to the lower-lying districts to the south. In Mingora alone, more than 700,000 people registered with authorities as internally displaced persons (IDPs). They needed food, clean drinking water, medicine, and sanitation facilities. Overnight, hundreds of volunteers associated with dozens of charities arrived to help the affected people. The volunteers worked with determination to reach the affected people with food and other necessities. Their energy contrasted sharply with government aid efforts. Poor handling of relief operations in Bannu for people displaced by air force bombing and military operations in South Waziristan led the military to shoot and wound four IDPs who were seeking food aid being offered by the military.3 Until August 2009 when the military defeated the insurgents and eliminated their command and control structure in the Swat valley, private Islamic welfare associations provided rescue and relief to the IDPs. After the military operations, these associations took the lead in helping the IDPs return to their villages and to rebuild their homes.

Heavy rains and floods in July–August 2010 submerged one-fifth of the country, led directly to the death of 1,750 people, and rendered 8 million people homeless.

Pakistani governments created ‘Islamic’ social welfare institutions and have taken control of traditional institutions. These include the Bait ul Mal as well as the expropriation of awqaf (trusts) and requirements that zakat (annual obligatory charity) be paid to government. The result of government control of traditional Muslim charities, in my assessment, is the encouragement of sectarianism. Madaris, for example, are required by law to register with one of the five seminary boards of the five major masalik (denominations).

This chapter takes up questions that are central to analysis of the impact of a confessional state—wherein one religion is privileged above others—on faith and religious practice, including the practice of charity. How did the Government of Pakistan bring much of the Islamic social welfare sector under state control, and with what effect on the quality of services and accountability of funds? How well have governments performed in administration and management of Islamic charity and social work at traditional religious venues, such as awqaf ? Has nationalization and government management of awqaf funds improved the quality of the welfare activities at awqaf ? Has the government takeover of awqaf made them more accessible to the public? How does government collect and distribute funds from pilgrims at awqaf and from asset holders as zakat? What does government administration of Islamic social welfare associations indicate broadly about a state religion and government legitimacy?

Governments in Pakistan have acted five times, under three different military governments, to confiscate large segments of the Islamic social welfare sector. In 1960, the government of General Ayub Khan nationalized awqaf and many of the dargah (shrines) which depend on awqaf. According to current dargah custodians, former owners of shrines were forced to sign agreements giving possession to provincial government. Awqaf throughout Pakistan are now administered by provincial governments. In its second attempt, the military government of General Ayub Khan sought to bring the madrasah sector under government control, but failed, in West Pakistan.

The social world is complex, and it changes even as we try to understand it. How then do we make sturdy claims about social life? How do we know that the findings of our inquiries about social life are true? Our findings also have implications for ourselves, in how we assess our place in and impact on the world. But how do we prevent our findings from being self-serving? How can we be certain that our findings are not merely projections of our own biases and values?

This chapter discusses epistemological and methodological matters. How did I collect information? What is the quality of that information? And what methods of analysis did I use? How did others’ perceptions of my identity, as a long-haired, middle-aged, white-skinned (pink, actually) man with a Christian name from the United States of America, influence conversations and interactions and thereby my perspectives? How was the information that was provided, and not provided, by those with whom I interacted shaped by these identities? This chapter addresses these questions. To start, we enumerate the specific questions that persuaded me to do field research.

Faith and Charity

Why do people give charity? Why do some people give more than others? Why do some give charity through traditional religious institutions, such as langar (community kitchen), others through nonpartisan NGOs, such as the Indus Hospital or Edhi Foundation, and still others through the welfare associations of political parties, by donating the hides and skins of sacrificed cattle as a service to people giving qurbani (donated meat of sacrificed animals)?

How do Islamic social welfare associations collect and distribute infaq (spending to please God)? And how does that collection and distribution differ according to whether that association is based at a religious institution, is registered and independent of political parties, is affiliated with a political party, or is organized by government? Are some types of Islamic social welfare association better at reaching needy people without discrimination on the basis of ethnicity, religion, or sexual identity?

Diversity can be tolerated, or it can be embraced. The Quran seems to suggest not only that tolerance of diversity is good for minorities but also that interaction with people from other backgrounds enables one to understand oneself better. This is an insight, that diversity is not merely to be tolerated, nor even to be recognized as a good in itself, but to be recognized as essential if one is to understand oneself. For by interacting with others one might learn that the apparently natural and inevitable is in fact cultural and pliable. Diversity allows one to be “reminded that there is no center of the world.”

More than 200 million Muslims live in Pakistan, about 98 percent of the population. This is about 15 million more Muslims than India, where Muslims make up just over 13 percent of the population. But reference to Pakistan as a ‘Muslim country’ or ‘Muslim nation’ can give rise to the mistaken notion that Pakistan's population is monolithically Muslim. Pakistan's population is extraordinarily diverse. There are Christian, Hindu, Sikh, Parsi, agnostic, and atheist Pakistanis. And the cultural and religious diversity within the Muslim community is also very great. No country has a richer variety of Muslim religious traditions and political identities. There are both Shia Muslims and Sunni Muslims; the former make up about a quarter of the population of Pakistan. Within the Shia community, there are Bohra, Ismaili, and Ithna-Ashari (Twelver Shias). Within the Sunni community, there are those who follow the Hanafi fiqh (school of jurisprudence) and those known as Ahle Hadith (people of the ahadith), who do not follow any fiqh;4 within the Hanafi community, there are Barelvi and Deobandi. And the ‘Islamic’ political parties are as varied as the fiqh (schools of Islamic law) and masalik (religious denominations).

This chapter provides a concise history of the establishment of Pakistan, its Muslim identities, and its ‘religious political parties,’ as the self-professed ‘Islamic’ political parties are known in Pakistan.

The location [in brackets] is that of the head office or a branch or local office(s) that the author visited. Many of these associations operate countrywide.

Aagosh-e-Noorani Foundation [Rawalpindi] (NP—Noreen Tahir)

Aghosh Edhi Home [Multan] (NP)1

Aasthan Latif Welfare Society [Makli] (NP)

Abbasi Shaheed Hospital [Karachi] (G)

Abdul Sattar Edhi, Bilquis Edhi, and Kubra Edhi Foundations [Karachi] (NP)

Abdullah Shah Ghazi Dargah [Karachi] (RI)

Abdullah Shah Ghazi Dargah langar [Karachi] (NP—Kisan Oil Mills)

Abdullah Shah Ghazi Dargah Ramzan langar [Karachi] (NP)

Aga Khan Agency for Microfinance [Karachi and Gilgit-Baltistan] (NP)

Aga Khan Child and Maternity Care Hospital [Hyderabad] (NP)

Aga Khan Education Service [Karachi and Gilgit-Baltistan] (NP)

Aga Khan Foundation [Islamabad] (NP)

Aga Khan Health Service [Karachi and Gilgit-Baltistan] (NP)

Aga Khan Hospital [Karachi] (NP)

Aga Khan Hospital [Singal] (NP)

Aga Khan Hospital for Women [Garden East, Karachi] (NP)

Aga Khan Hospital for Women [Karachi] (NP)

Aga Khan Housing Board [Karachi and Gilgit-Baltistan] (NP)

Aga Khan University Hospital [Karachi] (NP)

Aga Khan University Hospital Community Health Centre [Karachi] (NP)

Aisha Bawany Waqf and Academy [Karachi] (NP)

Akhuwat [Lahore, Karachi, Kot Mithan] (NP)

Akhuwat Health Services [Lahore and countrywide] (NP)

Akhuwat Sindh [Karachi] (NP)

Al Akhtar [Bahawalpur] (P—Jaish-i-Mohammad)

Al Anfal Trust [Muridke] (P—Lashkar-i-Taiba)

Al Asar Welfare Society [Lahore] (NP)

Al Ehsan Free Eye Hospital [Mughalpura Lahore] (NP)

Al Falah Manzil [Islamabad] (NP)

Al Ghazi Trust Hospital [Bhong] (NP)

Al Hira Girls College [Mirpur] (NP)

Al Ibrahim Trust Eye Hospital [Gaddap Town] (NP)

Al Khair Trust [Karachi] (P—Jamiat Ulema-i-Islami)

Al Khidmat Khawateen Trust (P—Jamaat-i-Islami)

Al Khidmat Welfare Committee [Karachi] (P—Jamaat-i-Islami)

Al Khidmat Welfare Foundation [Lahore] (P—Jamaat-i-Islami)

Al Khidmat Welfare Society [Karachi] (P—Jamaat-i-Islami)

Public responses to the global health emergency caused by the severe acute respiratory syndrome coronavirus 2 lay bare the realities highlighted and the findings underscored in this work. Security is not primarily about the protection of territory. Security is first about attention to basic health and educational needs. Basic social welfare is the primary security need for many hundreds of millions of people worldwide. Welfare without the state is not possible; the state must be involved centrally in the provision of public welfare, especially in countries with human security as poor as Pakistan where even the most basic attention can be lifesaving. But even in high-income countries, good governance is imperative for public security. At the same time, this core duty of government, to provide everyday security, cannot be achieved by government alone, even with well-designed state institutions. Welfare without the private charitable sector is impossible. Without strong relationships between government and nongovernmental organizations, including religious charities, and especially the charitable associations that are at the front lines in the provision of everyday human security, public action in the absence of government policy can only be anemic.