Abrar Ul Haq Takes Playful Dig at Iqrar Ul Hassan's Political Ambitions
By Sayed Abdullah | June 5, 2026
The television studio was warm, the host was grinning, and Abrar Ul Haq — singer, politician, and a man who has never been short of an opinion — was in fine form. The conversation turned, as Pakistani talk shows inevitably do, to politics. Specifically, to the political ambitions of two fellow public figures: Iqrar Ul Hassan, the television host with a famously complicated personal life, and Jawad Ahmed, the singer who once promised a tola of gold to every labourer if he came to power. Abrar Ul Haq did not hold back. He did not even pretend to. And the clip, as these clips always do, went viral within hours.
His remark about Iqrar Ul Hassan — delivered with the timing of a man who knows exactly what he is doing — drew the loudest laughs. "A man who can manage three wives can also manage the public, I believe," he said, pausing just long enough for the audience to catch up. "Because a wife is complete politics. It should be taught as a subject at university." The line was absurd, and it was meant to be. But underneath the humour was a sharp point about the way personal lives and political suitability get tangled up in Pakistani public discourse.
The Full Story
Abrar Ul Haq was appearing on a show hosted by Mohsin Abbas Haider, himself no stranger to controversy. The conversation was loose, unstructured, and genuinely funny — the kind of television that used to be common in Pakistan before the political tensions of recent years made everything feel heavy. When Jawad Ahmed's economic promises came up, Abrar Ul Haq was equally sharp. "I just enjoy his big claims because I can't do anything else. Only he can make claims like these," he said. The tone was not malicious. It was the tone of a seasoned performer who knows how to land a joke without drawing blood. But the target was clear: political promises that sound wonderful and mean nothing.
When the host pressed him on who, between Iqrar Ul Hassan and Jawad Ahmed, was Pakistan's "last hope," Abrar Ul Haq was blunt. Neither of them, he said. The answer was delivered with a shrug, as if the question itself was faintly ridiculous. And perhaps it was. Pakistan's political landscape is crowded with celebrities who have tried to convert fame into votes — some successfully, most not. Abrar Ul Haq himself has been a member of the National Assembly and has navigated the transition from stage to parliament with mixed results. His skepticism about celebrity politicians is not theoretical. It is lived.
Abrar Ul Haq first rose to fame in the early 1990s with his Punjabi hit "Billo," a song that still gets played at weddings, parties, and any gathering where the music is loud enough. Over the decades, he has remained a prominent figure in Pakistani music and public life, balancing his entertainment career with a genuine commitment to healthcare through the Sahara Medical Trust. That combination — the singer who also builds hospitals — gives him a credibility that pure entertainers sometimes lack. When he takes a swipe at political pretenders, it lands differently than it would from someone whose only credential is a hit song.
Why This Moment Matters
There is a long tradition in Pakistani public life of using humour to say things that cannot be said straight. Abrar Ul Haq's remarks about Iqrar Ul Hassan's three marriages — and the suggestion that managing wives is good training for managing the public — were funny precisely because they danced along the edge of what is acceptable. Polygamy is legal in Pakistan. It is also a subject of endless social debate, particularly when it involves public figures whose personal lives are already the subject of tabloid fascination. Iqrar Ul Hassan, with his television fame and his well-documented marriages, is an easy target. But the laughter the joke generated also revealed something about the audience: they understood the subtext. Political management and domestic management, in the Pakistani imagination, are not entirely separate skills.
The Jawad Ahmed line was different. It was not about personal life. It was about the grandiosity of political promises — the tola of gold, the impossible pledges, the rhetoric that sounds magnificent until you ask how it will be funded. Abrar Ul Haq, who has served in government, knows how hollow those promises are. His dismissal of Jawad Ahmed's claims was not just a joke. It was a critique, wrapped in laughter, of a political culture that rewards fantasy over feasibility. That critique is more relevant than ever, as the country heads toward another budget cycle and the gap between political rhetoric and economic reality widens.
The Pakistani Connection
I watched the clip on my phone while waiting for a friend at a chai dhaba in Nazimabad, yaar. The guy next to me — a complete stranger — leaned over and asked what I was laughing at. I showed him. Within minutes, three people were gathered around my screen, laughing at Abrar Ul Haq's perfectly timed delivery. That is how these moments work in Pakistan. They spread from phone to phone, from dhaba to drawing room, until everyone has seen the clip and formed an opinion. The consensus at the dhaba was unanimous: Abrar Ul Haq was right, and the line about three wives was going to be quoted for weeks. The political commentary, though, went deeper. One of the men — older, with the weary look of someone who has voted in every election since the 1990s — said, "Yeh sab ek hi baat hai. Jo ghar sambhaal sakta hai, woh mulk bhi sambhaal sakta hai." (It's all the same thing. The one who can manage a home can also manage a country.) The joke had become a philosophy.
For Pakistanis struggling with inflation, load shedding, and the daily grind of urban life, the appeal of a politician who can simply "manage" things is real. Abrar Ul Haq's playful remarks, stripped of their humour, were touching a nerve: the public is tired of grand claims and complicated manifestos. They want competence. Whether that competence is demonstrated by running a household or running a business is almost beside the point. The dhaba audience understood this. The television audience did too. The joke landed because it was true enough to sting.
Do you think celebrity politicians in Pakistan bring real value to public life, or are they mostly entertainment? Share your views — I'd love to know what you think.
Sayed Abdullah is the founder and editor of Prime Pakistan. Based in Karachi, he writes about culture, entertainment, and the stories that shape Pakistani lives. Read more.
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Sources
- Television appearance — Abrar Ul Haq on Mohsin Abbas Haider's show.
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