In the present context, the entry of a significant number of ʿulamāʾ into the National Parliament as representatives of the people is undoubtedly an important achievement for the scholarly community. This development has not only increased public trust in them and heightened expectations of their role, but has also expanded their responsibilities and accountability.

I have no personal acquaintance with Mufti Amir Hamza Sahib, nor have I ever met him. However, he was once a victim of oppression, and for that reason I have a special place for him in my heart. I sincerely wish him well. It is out of that goodwill and genuine concern that I offer these reflections. I do not know how he will receive them. My intention, however, is not to belittle him, but rather to express my hope that he will play an even more positive role.

At one time, he was primarily a preacher. If he made an indiscreet, exaggerated, or unfounded statement from the preaching platform, it was comparatively easy for the political party associated with him to distance itself from the consequences. But he is now a Member of Parliament representing a political party. His words and conduct therefore have implications beyond his personal standing; they also affect the public image of his party.

There is no denying Mufti Amir Hamza Sahib’s popularity or his ability to evoke religious sentiment. Nevertheless, certain statements he has made from the preaching platform—marked by exaggeration, unrestrained language, and an aggressive style of criticism—have repeatedly given rise to undesirable controversies.

In particular, when criticizing ʿulamāʾ affiliated with other political parties, his remarks often seem to convey more resentment than concern, and more sarcasm and irrelevant commentary than facts and reasoned argument. Yet criticism by a dāʿī must necessarily combine civility, fairness, sincere concern for others, and a sound grounding in knowledge.

Someone may hurt you or your party through their words or conduct. But responding by deliberately hurting them in return is not what one should expect from a dāʿī. Rather, discourtesy can be answered with courtesy, and hostility with love. A dāʿī should cultivate the disposition to welcome others with flowers rather than retaliate with thorns.

There is no inherent objection to a Member of Parliament delivering sermons or speaking at religious gatherings. Such addresses, however, should be grounded in the Qur’an and Sunnah, supported by facts and sound reasoning, and delivered in dignified language. Political issues may naturally arise, but it is neither appropriate nor desirable to turn a religious gathering into a platform for personal or partisan attacks against political opponents. The language of political criticism and the language of religious counsel and daʿwah should not be the same.

At political gatherings, opponents may be criticized strongly; in certain circumstances, such criticism may even be necessary. Yet even there, the evidentiary basis of an argument, the force of its reasoning, and the relevance of the remarks matter far more than the volume or intensity of one’s words. The strength of criticism lies not in the loudness of one’s voice, but in the soundness of one’s reasoning; the sharpness of an argument lies not in rhetorical grandstanding, but in the accuracy of its facts.

This issue is not confined to Mufti Amir Hamza Sahib. It applies equally to all ʿulamāʾ and religious speakers who have been elected to Parliament. Their measured and judicious words can enhance the dignity of the scholarly community; conversely, careless utterances can undermine that dignity.

The political parties concerned therefore also have a responsibility: whenever criticism becomes unbalanced or crosses the boundaries of civility, they should not overlook the matter. Instead, they should take timely corrective measures and make a meaningful effort to encourage the speakers concerned to exercise greater restraint and responsibility.

My sincere hope for Mufti Amir Hamza Sahib is that he will use his popularity and influence in a more constructive, measured, and responsible manner. I say this with respect for him: the purpose of this criticism is not to demean him, but to express the hope that his words and public role will become more balanced and beneficial.

Times have changed, his role has changed, and his responsibilities have grown. It is therefore essential that he move beyond the familiar habits of the preaching platform and adopt a style of speech and conduct suited to the responsibilities of parliamentary office.

Dignity lies not merely in holding a position, but in exercising restraint in speech, maintaining fairness in criticism, and demonstrating wisdom in the discharge of one’s responsibilities.