'Muhafiz-e-Haramain': How Asim Munir is using religious symbolism to navigate Pakistan's political storm

During the recent National Ulema and Mashaikh Convention in Islamabad on December 10, Chief of the Army Staff (COAS) Field Marshal Syed Asim Munir, who had recently  become Pakistan's first-ever Chief of the Defence Forces (CDF), used the platform to  advance a legitimising narrative. The most striking and unexpected element of General  Munir’s address was his characterisation of Pakistan as “Muhafiz-e-Haramain,” a title that  translates to "Protector" or "Guardian" of the Two Holy Mosques in Mecca and Medina. This, in all likelihood, refers to the Strategic Mutual Defence Agreement (SMDA) signed between Saudi Arabia and Pakistan on September 17. Beyond formal defence commitments, Munir underscored the deep ideological affinities between the two countries, framing their foundational identities as closely aligned and rooted in a shared regional and religious outlook.

Mohammed Shoaib Raza

Munir’s portrayal of Pakistan as Muhafiz-e-Haramain reads less like a genuine claim of religious responsibility and more like a bid for symbolic legitimacy by a military leadership grappling with domestic repression, economic strain, and an increasingly uncertain ideological footing.

To make sense of Munir’s embrace of grand titles such as Muhafiz-e-Haramain, one must consider his pressing need for domestic legitimacy, and this turn to religious symbolism is largely aimed at appealing to Pakistan’s ulema, a clerical establishment that continues to exert considerable influence over the country’s social and political life. By casting the military as a guardian of the faith, Munir is attempting to insulate himself from growing domestic discontent, at least among the ulema, whose grassroots reach can help calm public unrest. All of this unfolds at a moment when the military’s tightening control over politics has further strained already fraught civil–military relations. This friction was conspicuously evident last month following the ratification of the 27th Constitutional Amendment. Despite widespread protests from civil society, the amendment granted top military leaders lifetime immunity from criminal prosecution and fundamentally restructured the high command. This power consolidation is occurring amid a politically turbulent landscape, shaped by the repeated convictions of former Pakistani Prime Minister Imran Khan. Despite his legal troubles, Khan’s support base remains strong.

Munir's framing of the new defence pact as a selfless commitment to Saudi security is clearly aimed at his home audience. However, this portrayal glosses over a more complicated truth. The reality is that Pakistan remains deeply tied to financial lifelines from the Kingdom, which makes this relationship far more transactional than Pakistan’s rhetoric suggests. Ironically, a self-styled “protector” is, at the same time, a state reliant on foreign loans to remain afloat.

Furthermore, Munir’s adoption of the religious symbolism for the army appears to be an attempt to get past the moral responsibility for the military operations along the Afghan border because the very clergy have increasingly challenged it as it seeks to co-opt. This is primarily due to the erosion of consensus on the state’s security narrative. Pakistan’s military seeks to justify its campaigns in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa (KP) and North Waziristan, where the presence of militant groups like the Tehreek-e-Taliban Pakistan (TTP) has led to multiple instances of violence. Prominent political figures such as Maulana Fazlur Rehman of the Jamiat Ulema-e-Islam (JUI-F) have expressed growing discontent over military actions in KP, citing civilian casualties and rights violations. The friction is underscored by recent border skirmishes with Afghan forces that resulted in civilian deaths; on 6 December, five people were killed following an exchange of heavy fire with Pakistan-Afghanistan forces. Rehman’s reported interest in visiting India with a "message of peace" signals a significant shift, as the religious-political leader begins to assert a more independent foreign policy stance. Munir’s assertion that the authority to declare jihad rests solely with the state serves as a tacit admission of the military’s mounting anxiety regarding radicalisation that might be taking place at religious seminaries in Pakistan.

However, the credibility of Munir's stance is fundamentally undermined when one looks at the military’s ongoing habit of treating extremist groups as strategic assets. The double standard was on full display during Operation Sindhoor when high-ranking officials showed up for funeral prayers at the Lashkar-e-Taiba headquarters in Muridke after the Indian strikes. It sent a clear message that contradicted everything that Munir is trying to project; video evidence purportedly showed Abdul Rauf, a US-designated terrorist and leader of the Falah-i-Insaniyat (a known LeT/Jamaat-ud-Dawa proxy), flanked by Pakistani military personnel, while those killed in the strikes were accorded state honours. This blatant endorsement of militant proxies directly contradicts the military’s public efforts to centralise the authority of jihad, exposing a deep-seated reluctance to abandon its "good vs. bad" militant framework fully.

While Pakistan’s leadership may celebrate the recent accolades from its allies, these crumbs of recognition do little to mask the deep-seated anxieties plaguing the nation. Owing to high debt and volatile policies, Pakistan remains perpetually reliant on imports and a fragile rupee. To navigate this, PM Shehbaz Sharif and Asim Munir have formed a back-scratching pact. It is a move for institutional survival, prioritizing their own power over deep reforms. When Munir received the King Abdulaziz Medal of Excellence on 22 December, it was about more than just a trophy for his mantle. This award, Saudi Arabia’s highest civilian honour, is a clear signal of a geopolitical quid pro quo. Relying on accolades and clerical endorsements may provide a temporary respite against domestic dissent, but these manoeuvres do not resolve the underlying crisis of legitimacy.

Mohammed Shoaib Raza is a doctoral candidate at the Centre for West Asian Studies, Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi.