In 2002, Jammu and Kashmir was trying to wriggle out of the violence that had engulfed it for over a decade. People wanted to breathe, in a relatively non-violent atmosphere. Political discontent was at the core of problem. The National Conference government, headed by Farooq Abdullah, had a tough time fighting militants and was discredited for letting loose a reign of terror by the Special Operations Group of the police, Indian paramilitary forces and the Indian army. Abdullah may not have been directly handling the security grid, but in these situations, local governments are always blamed. This happens regardless of the fact that they are so disempowered that they hardly have any idea wherefrom the strings of that grid are being pulled.
According to political pundits and security experts, Kashmir was in transition and it needed consolidation. But it was not in as bad a shape as it is today. An entire generation is on a warpath and nearly 60 people have been killed since Hizbul Mujahideen commander Burhan Wani’s killing on July 8. Kashmir is locked in a curfew for over 40 days now, probably the longest such spell, and the situation refuses to return to even a semblance of normalcy. A political intervention is not on the horizon. The police and paramilitary forces have been left to deal with very angry youth on the streets, who do not hide that they are ready to die.
An interesting anecdote was shared with me by a friend who intends to proceed on Haj this year. As a custom, he visited his village in Handwara in north Kashmir. Groups of young boys are manning the roads. The couple was stopped and asked why they were traveling during the night. They said they were leaving for Haj and wanted to seek the blessings of their family and friends. The boys asked them pilgrims to pray for them, but not for their health and prosperity. “Please pray in Makkah that we all embrace martyrdom for the cause of freedom of Kashmir,” they had told him. And they were not militants. They were only fighting the security forces with stones.
That is the intensity of the situation. It cannot be compared to 2002. When then prime minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee spoke to India from the ramparts of the Red Fort that year, he certainly chose to condemn terrorism and accuse Pakistan of aiding and abetting it. But he also had a message for the people of Jammu and Kashmir. He showed empathy towards them, and talked about dialogue and reconciliation. Assuring people that his government would try to undo past mistakes, Vajpayee said: “The process of peace and democracy has now arrived at a decisive turn in Jammu and Kashmir, which has been grappling with terrorism. Elections are going to take place in the state. The dates have already been announced. I am confident that these elections will be fully free and fair. No one needs have any doubts.” A major portion of his speech was devoted to Kashmir, although Kashmir was not burning the way it is today.
This month, Prime Minister Narendra Modi spoke from the same podium. Only a week ago, he had invoked Vajpayee’s slogan “Jamhuriyat, Insaniyat aur Kashmiriyat” for the seventh time since 2013. But in the two years of his rule, he has not moved an inch towards that direction. When he spoke on August 15, he did not even mention the word Kashmir, although Kashmir is locked down in a curfew, so many people have died, there is a communication blockade and normal life has come to a grinding halt. He made a reference to “misguided youth”, probably militants, but by the Indian government’s own account, their number is no more than 150. Instead, he talked about Balochistan and the Pakistani side of Kashmir. He spoke about human rights violations in those areas of Pakistan, but said nothing about the pellet injuries with which scores of young boys and girls of Kashmir would live for the rest of their lives.
A political approach, which would in the real sense mean following Vajpayee’s legacy, could have helped a breakthrough in Kashmir. Diverting attention from the trouble that is shadowing Kashmir will not help heal wounds, or aid the state government in overcoming the challenge. Mentioning Balochistan and the other Kashmir could be a tactical move of diplomacy, but that is not what is needed to approach the issue in Kashmir. It has now been made hostage to the situation in Balochistan, which according to major opposition party Congress is internal matter of Pakistan. When prime ministers Manmohan Singh and Yousaf Raza Gilani spoke about Balochistan in Sharm el Sheikh, Singh was condemned in India and had to backtrack. But Modi’s mention of Balochistan in a brazen attack on Pakistan will help Pakistan make a case against India at the international level.
This heightened war of words between the two countries is detrimental to any forward movement in and on Kashmir.
Meanwhile, Chief Minister Mehbooba Mufti, who runs the coalition government with Modi’s Bhartiya Janata Party, talked about the sufferings of people of Kashmir the same day. She called on the leadership of India and Pakistan to evolve a mechanism to open free trade zones and build more road links between the divided Jammu and Kashmir.
Mehbooba’s helplessness was writ large on her face while addressing the Independence Day function at the highly fortified Bakhshi Stadium in Srinagar. Although she repeated that the Kashmiri youth were being exploited by certain elements, her political tone was evident. Once a vibrant politician who would take risks to mingle with the crowds, she has lost Delhi’s cushion to further her late father’s legacy of “healing touch”.
The distance between Srinagar and Delhi is long, and the difference of opinion between the two coalition partners is clear. The political idiom that seemed to be at the core of this alliance when Mufti Sayeed went against the tide to make it possible in 2015, is missing.
Today, Kashmir is politically volatile and demands a political approach. By opening new fronts with Pakistan and ignoring the contemporary political reality in Srinagar, New Delhi is adding to the provocation in Kashmir. After all, caging seven million people – among whom there are young men who wish to become “martyrs” – needs an explanation, not a cover up.
The author is a veteran journalist from Srinagar and the editor-in-chief of
The Rising Kashmir
According to political pundits and security experts, Kashmir was in transition and it needed consolidation. But it was not in as bad a shape as it is today. An entire generation is on a warpath and nearly 60 people have been killed since Hizbul Mujahideen commander Burhan Wani’s killing on July 8. Kashmir is locked in a curfew for over 40 days now, probably the longest such spell, and the situation refuses to return to even a semblance of normalcy. A political intervention is not on the horizon. The police and paramilitary forces have been left to deal with very angry youth on the streets, who do not hide that they are ready to die.
An interesting anecdote was shared with me by a friend who intends to proceed on Haj this year. As a custom, he visited his village in Handwara in north Kashmir. Groups of young boys are manning the roads. The couple was stopped and asked why they were traveling during the night. They said they were leaving for Haj and wanted to seek the blessings of their family and friends. The boys asked them pilgrims to pray for them, but not for their health and prosperity. “Please pray in Makkah that we all embrace martyrdom for the cause of freedom of Kashmir,” they had told him. And they were not militants. They were only fighting the security forces with stones.
That is the intensity of the situation. It cannot be compared to 2002. When then prime minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee spoke to India from the ramparts of the Red Fort that year, he certainly chose to condemn terrorism and accuse Pakistan of aiding and abetting it. But he also had a message for the people of Jammu and Kashmir. He showed empathy towards them, and talked about dialogue and reconciliation. Assuring people that his government would try to undo past mistakes, Vajpayee said: “The process of peace and democracy has now arrived at a decisive turn in Jammu and Kashmir, which has been grappling with terrorism. Elections are going to take place in the state. The dates have already been announced. I am confident that these elections will be fully free and fair. No one needs have any doubts.” A major portion of his speech was devoted to Kashmir, although Kashmir was not burning the way it is today.
Mehbooba's helplessness was writ large on her face
This month, Prime Minister Narendra Modi spoke from the same podium. Only a week ago, he had invoked Vajpayee’s slogan “Jamhuriyat, Insaniyat aur Kashmiriyat” for the seventh time since 2013. But in the two years of his rule, he has not moved an inch towards that direction. When he spoke on August 15, he did not even mention the word Kashmir, although Kashmir is locked down in a curfew, so many people have died, there is a communication blockade and normal life has come to a grinding halt. He made a reference to “misguided youth”, probably militants, but by the Indian government’s own account, their number is no more than 150. Instead, he talked about Balochistan and the Pakistani side of Kashmir. He spoke about human rights violations in those areas of Pakistan, but said nothing about the pellet injuries with which scores of young boys and girls of Kashmir would live for the rest of their lives.
A political approach, which would in the real sense mean following Vajpayee’s legacy, could have helped a breakthrough in Kashmir. Diverting attention from the trouble that is shadowing Kashmir will not help heal wounds, or aid the state government in overcoming the challenge. Mentioning Balochistan and the other Kashmir could be a tactical move of diplomacy, but that is not what is needed to approach the issue in Kashmir. It has now been made hostage to the situation in Balochistan, which according to major opposition party Congress is internal matter of Pakistan. When prime ministers Manmohan Singh and Yousaf Raza Gilani spoke about Balochistan in Sharm el Sheikh, Singh was condemned in India and had to backtrack. But Modi’s mention of Balochistan in a brazen attack on Pakistan will help Pakistan make a case against India at the international level.
This heightened war of words between the two countries is detrimental to any forward movement in and on Kashmir.
Meanwhile, Chief Minister Mehbooba Mufti, who runs the coalition government with Modi’s Bhartiya Janata Party, talked about the sufferings of people of Kashmir the same day. She called on the leadership of India and Pakistan to evolve a mechanism to open free trade zones and build more road links between the divided Jammu and Kashmir.
Mehbooba’s helplessness was writ large on her face while addressing the Independence Day function at the highly fortified Bakhshi Stadium in Srinagar. Although she repeated that the Kashmiri youth were being exploited by certain elements, her political tone was evident. Once a vibrant politician who would take risks to mingle with the crowds, she has lost Delhi’s cushion to further her late father’s legacy of “healing touch”.
The distance between Srinagar and Delhi is long, and the difference of opinion between the two coalition partners is clear. The political idiom that seemed to be at the core of this alliance when Mufti Sayeed went against the tide to make it possible in 2015, is missing.
Today, Kashmir is politically volatile and demands a political approach. By opening new fronts with Pakistan and ignoring the contemporary political reality in Srinagar, New Delhi is adding to the provocation in Kashmir. After all, caging seven million people – among whom there are young men who wish to become “martyrs” – needs an explanation, not a cover up.
The author is a veteran journalist from Srinagar and the editor-in-chief of
The Rising Kashmir