Spirit of Pakistan celebrates British Pakistanis. Why do some of them want it cancelled?

“When I first came to Birmingham, I was Pakistani. Then I was [politically] black. For the last 10 or 15 years, I have been more aware of being Kashmiri”. 

Dr Karamat Iqbal is speaking to an audience he expected to be bigger. There was meant to be more of us attending tonight’s free event, a panel discussion on the British Pakistani identity and experience in Britain. Every ticket was booked. But the dual forces of cricket and a solar eclipse have left the lauded researcher with an audience of about 20. Plus, thanks to 33C temperatures, the Midlands Arts Centre has upgraded the talk — designed as “intimate,” organiser Saima Suleman tells me — to the air-conditioned 200-capacity main theatre. The rows of turquoise seats are conspicuously empty. 

Still, energy is undimmed. This conversation comes at the tail-end of a fortnight’s worth of events celebrating and dissecting the cultural contributions of British Pakistanis. They’ve all been organised under the banner of the Spirit of Pakistan, a festival founded in 2025 by the late Labour councillor Waseem Zaffar. Volunteers sport green shirts bearing the Spirit of Pakistan’s tagline: ‘A festival for all’. 

But as repeated remarks throughout the discussion reference, ‘all’ is a large group of people to please. For a festival which aims to unite people (something three separate members of the steering committee impress upon me over the course of the evening), Spirit of Pakistan has become an intriguingly divisive flash point. 

Two very different groups have coalesced around two main points of outrage: the festival’s connections to the Pakistani state, in light of a crackdown on Kashmiri protesters, and the £30,000 it received in funding from Birmingham city council this year. The ruckus has lit up group chats of British Pakistanis across Birmingham, prompting heated radio discussions. It even hit a national newspaper. 

The festival’s organisers insist that the fuss is manufactured. Spirit of Pakistan has nothing to do with Pakistan’s government, they say, and there’s nothing untoward about community events getting cash from their local authority. But with the councillor who signed off the award being appointed chair of the festival just weeks later, and a puzzling press release from the government of Pakistan, claiming the festival was created in tribute to the country’s military, is there a case to answer? 

‘It’s sheer hypocrisy’

Waseem Zaffar started Spirit of Pakistan in August 2025, to challenge negative stereotypes about the British Pakistani community. He had about “five weeks” to pull the first festival together, says Ash, a rangy volunteer who handles videography and socials for Spirit of Pakistan. Ash knew Zaffar for 15 years. He was a “good guy [...] we got along because we had the same approach”.

There’s a pause as we both silently acknowledge that during his life, Zaffar was seen as a major force in Birmingham’s politics but made more than a few enemies during his rise. His shock death from a heart attack on 30 January 2026 brought an abrupt end to his ascendant political career. This year’s Spirit of Pakistan festival has featured many tributes to Zaffar. Multiple speeches have made clear the event is being continued and expanded as his legacy.

Everything Zaffar did was about “bringing people together”, says Ash. In 2025, he wanted to counteract the representation of British Pakistanis he saw in the media. “Every time you think of Pakistanis, you think of immigrants, grooming gangs,” Ash outlines, as he clips together a tripod in the MAC’s pit. “Where is the showcase of the good things? It’s so easy to push negative things but we’ve contributed so much”. 

Which makes it interesting that one of the loudest groups kicking up opposition to the festival are British Pakistanis, British Kashmiri-Pakistanis to be exact. The majority of Brits with Pakistani heritage trace their roots to Pakistan-administered territory of Azad Jammu and Kashmir. The festival’s organisers and much of the talent who’ve appeared across its 27 events which span music, sport and literature, are also predominantly of Kashmiri heritage.

Kate here, quick note about why we paywall articles. This story was a delicate one to get right, with lots of accusations being traded of unfair scrutiny and competition. Everyone had different perspectives. We hope you feel it's a balanced piece.

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