Kashmir Belongs to Its People—Don't Leave Them Out

Delhi needs to see Kashmir eye to eye and ensure that it won't be punitive against Kashmiris, writes Sayeed Malik.

The sense of grief over the Pahalgam tragedy was palpable. Holding candles in hands, men, women, and children from across the social spectrum, spoke in sombre tones. Gloom and sadness overcast the atmosphere in and around the Valley’s 'emotional heart'—as Lal Chowk is popularly described.

(Photo: PTI/Altered by Vibhushita Singh/The Quint)

The spontaneous outpouring of grief and anguish at Srinagar's Lal Chowk after the Pahalgam carnage took me back to October 1947 when Pakistan-aided tribal raiders had invaded Jammu and Kashmir.

This was when Maharaja Hari Singh had not yet acceded to the Indian Union. I was a teenager then. The upsurge of spontaneous popular sentiment that broke out at Lal Chowk against the militancy at the time was so infectious that it gripped the entire Valley.

Nearly seven decades later, I could feel and recognise the same contours of mass outpouring.

The sense of grief over the Pahalgam tragedy was palpable. Holding candles in hands, men, women, and children from across the social spectrum, spoke in sombre tones. Gloom and sadness overcast the atmosphere in and around the Valley’s 'emotional heart'—as Lal Chowk is popularly described.

The sombre atmosphere of the Lal Chowk gathering was in line with the grief-laden popular mood that swept across the Valley as the news about Pahalgam tragedy went viral. There was not even a slight murmur of any dissent, much less any counter-protest, in support of the act or the perpetrators.

Yet, when a few of the visiting media persons from Delhi, notably a certain reporter from 'godi media', sought to inject their favourite ‘Hindu-Muslim‘ discourse among the crowd, she was shouted down, and was seen being escorted out by the police.

'Kashmir is Stunned'

As a Kashmiri, I can assure you that, like me, almost everybody in Kashmir is stunned by this attack. The magnitude of it, the viciousness of it. And of course, the abrupt and immediate aftereffect.

This is an attempt to destabalise the political mood of the Valley. This mood and its emotional projection had been taking shape, rather imperceptibly, since the Lok Sabha and Assembly elections held last year, both of which saw record voter participation after over three decades of armed insurgency.

The national mainstream reappeared over the horizon, throbbing with popular aspirations.

As a result, the projection of 'normalcy' across the board began to yield certain dividends. Tourist inflow was at its top, indicating a totally new atmosphere in the strife-torn border region. The Pahalgam carnage struck as a bolt from the blue. Suddenly, everything seems to be going haywire.

There’s no doubt that this attack—apart from other things—was designed to create a situation of communal radicalisation in the Valley. But the Kashmiris today are refusing to fall into that trap.

The killers asked the victims whether they are Hindu or Muslim, and this part has been played up very loudly by the media. But not a lot of media highlighted the swift reaction against it. Across the Valley, people took no time to condemn the attack. Even politicians and leaders came later to condemn the attack. The Kashmiri condemned it first.

A Peculiar Situation: Kashmir is Not Delhi

Kashmir is not new to militancy. But for the first time in years, the Valley saw a total ‘bandh’ against this act of militancy. The protests show that the political heart of the Valley is healthy, sound, and in its place. But the attack has left us in a peculiar situation.

Though we elected an Assembly, a la the Delhi Assembly pattern, Kashmir is not Delhi—and Delhi is not Kashmir.

Kashmir has problems that are unlike Delhi's. In Delhi, the Centre can play around with the state or union territory government—whatever Delhi is— without having too grievous an impact on the people of Delhi, if at all. It is not a militarised, conflict area, located on a hostile border. In Kashmir, even a small change leaves everything topsy-turvy.

In 2024, people in the Valley made their mind known for the first time since 2019, and they made their choice clear. In the last few months, though restoration of statehood has been unjustly and unjustifiably delayed, there has been no effort to overturn that popular verdict. That was not to New Delhi’s liking.

Omar Abdullah, who had only two months back contested Lok Sabha elections and suffered a shocking defeat at the hands of Engineer Rashid, won this time. It shows that people realised that this time, the stakes were different.

In the Lok Sabha elections, they had seen him as Delhi’s man. That’s generally how the National Conference (NC) and the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP), the two ‘national’ alternatives, are viewed among locals. But the choice was made since the PDP had vitiated its public image—and the NC was the only choice Kashmiris saw to negotiate with the Centre on essential needs like jobs, education, and other people’s needs. They gave a long rope to Omar.

But the goodwill that was generated post elections is beginning to disappear as people realise that Omar is a king in name only.

The J&K administration is made up of the Indian Administrative Service (IAS), the Indian Police Service (IPS), and the Jammu and Kashmir Administrative Services (JKAS). It was commonly understood that the IAS and the IPS were under the control of the Lieutenant Governor (LG) while the JKAS was under the state. But recently, the LG issued an order transferring about 30 KAS or state cadre officers without knowledge of the government.

Suddenly, we discovered that our state government doesn’t exist—that it has no power at all. It was a deliberate, politically mischievous move, meant to condescend the government and show it its place.

The Chief Minister is going through the motions of power. He is visiting places, meeting people at accident sites, comforting locals etc. But he is being kept out of the main security or political developments of the Valley. Even after the attack, in the initial security meetings with the Union Home Minister, he was kept out. The Chief of Police was there, the Chief Secretary was there, he wasn’t. Whether he was asked to leave, or he left himself as protocol (under the given protocol, the Chief Minister is not part of the security apparatus) is not the point.

The point is, the people’s representative of Kashmir is being kept out of the loop of what’s happening, even while he is expected to shoulder responsibility for the attack.

It is a bit like the situation of all Kashmiris, at this point, I suppose. We are being blamed for something we do not condone and had no hand in manifesting.

This is Kashmir. Good or bad, Omar symbolises the public opinion, political will, aspirations and voice of the people. When you keep him away in a situation like this—when raw emotions are strung high—you don’t serve the larger cause.

A Hive Mind

In Kashmir, things do not happen in isolation. Like the fingers of cordyceps that grow deep into the ground, invisible yet connecting the larger mass to smaller entities, militancy is enmeshed into the socio-political fabric of Kashmir, whether Kashmiris like it or not.

And this is an extraordinary situation that needs an extraordinary response. Let him (Omar) sit in the meetings, let him be part of what’s unfolding. Let the people of Kashmir know what happened and what lies in store. Kashmiris know the price that has to be paid locally in the name of national security.

New Delhi needs to see Kashmir eye to eye and ensure that it will not be punitive against Kashmiris, just on account of the crime happening on their land. And yet, that's exactly what has been happening.

Instead of instilling confidence among Kashmiris that the government is with them, collective punishment has been unleashed upon people in the Union Territory.

A number of residential houses have been blasted. Some of them belonged to suspected terrorists who have been missing, presumably having fled across the LoC to Pakistan, three decades ago. Locals complained that adjacent houses were damaged too.

Keeping locals, and in extension, local political representatives, in confidence is not just good governance, it has a direct bearing on security. It cannot be highlighted enough that the Pahalgam attack was the result of a massive intelligence failure. The strike looks to have been meticulously planned, savagely executed, even as the local security apparatus found itself caught napping. We simply had no idea what was happening, we were not prepared.

Whether a serious probe is underway and whether obvious gaps in this arrangement exposed by the viciousness of the carnage is still an official secret. But the fact is that in Kashmir, most intelligence does not flow through New Delhi’s organised channels or so-called paid agents. It’s the person who has contact with the people on ground – the MLA – who has grassroots connect that is often key to knowing what’s going on, on ground. These public representatives (including separatist leaders) push agenda and politics on ground and are the best receptors of the local mood, or public sentiment.

In 1965, when infiltrators entered, it was a simple Gujjar man who shared the intel with local authorities. Mohammad Deen Jagir helped foil the infiltration and was later awarded the Padma Shree in 1966.

The same thing happened in the 1990s when militancy was at its height—it was the local representatives who had a connect with the ground, that helped inform the security strategy. It was through them that journalists like us came to know what was happening on ground, which groups were swaying who, who was linked to whom. All the intelligence paraphernalia was ignorant about what was happening. They had not even seen AK-47s being used by militants before locals did.

What I’m trying to establish is the significance of having Kashmiris (at both the grassroots and at the top) in the loop. Since 2019, the government has silenced all local leaders, curtailing a key link with locals and compromising an important aspect of security collaboration.

Kashmiris are Not Communal

There may be an element of communal fringe in Kashmiri politics, more as a reaction to communalisation, othering, appropriation or state brutality, than a product of their own, natural thinking. But Kashmiris are not communal by nature—not in their thought or their heart or actions.

When Kashmiris saw what was done to visitors, guests, we detested it. We are aggrieved. But most importantly, we did not want to be seen condoning it, nor do we want to be associated with it. Kashmiris threw their homes open to visitors, helped victims out with aid and even money, practiced restraint while engaging in provocative news media. Kashmiri media published blackouts as a mark of protest and headlines of leading local outlets screamed out the anger we felt against the act. And let’s not forget the pony wallah – the local Kashmiri boy who died trying to save a child.

And yet, there IS an attempt in popular narrative to exploit the 'Hindu-Muslim' sentiment outside of Kashmir to malign the Kashmiris for the rest of India. Kashmiris, be it students or migrant workers, shopkeepers and shawl wallahs, are being attacked across India, for no fault of their own. Many have returned home. Maligning Kashmir aligns with the political agenda of certain people. It helps some politicians in their electoral agendas. I hope the government acts against fanning of such sentiments.

This (what happened in Pahalgam) is not local militancy. It is what you saw in Poonch and Rajouri, it is what you saw in Kathua. The security or intelligence forces were not able to go to the root of what happened in these places, and certain groups are reaping the benefits of that in Pahalagam.

The terrorists have done what they had to do, and Kashmiris have since done their part. It’s up to the government now, how it handles the situation.

If Kashmiris in any way feel that they are being punished for what happened, there will likely be consequences. Kashmir needs a constant, efficient, and active intelligence grid that includes locals. Alienating local Kashmiris will only alienate New Delhi more.

(As told to Rakhi Bose)

(Syed Malik is a former Executive Editor with the Observer group of newspapers. Earlier, special correspondent of Patriot and Link in J&K. Briefly served in J&K govt under Sheikh Abdullah on contract basis as Director of Information & PR. This is an opinion piece, and the views expressed are the author’s own. The Quint neither endorses nor is responsible for them.)