This story first appeared in Gulf News

Lockdown, rights violation and poor legal remedies have tarred India’s image globally

Trapped in lockdown, barbed wires and military barricades, an eerie silence continues to define Jammu and Kashmir’s landscape, one year after it lost its special status.

As the official project of erasure of its geography, politics, symbols and memory continues, the Modi government labours to equate silence with ‘normality’ and ‘acceptance’.

Stories of trauma, sufferings, helplessness and monumental despair largely remain hidden from the gaze. But, rarely do memories of atrocity get buried forever. They continue to feed and fuel the volcano.

The sense of loss in Kashmir was more than symbolic as Article 370, the constitutional statute, struck off on August 5, 2019, guaranteed its residents protections with respect to jobs, admissions in higher educational institutions and ownership of land.

By removing that safety valve, the Modi government found the levers to unilaterally amend or strike off any law without consulting the people. That process started with monumental speed in pursuit of altering the demography of J&K, which till a year ago was the only Muslim majority state in India, but now stands demoted and divided into two union territories.

Prospects of demographic flooding

The prospects of demographic flooding are locally engendering fears of the current dispensation in New Delhi replicating the Israeli model to subjugate the Muslims, while the rest become collateral damage. Kashmir may, however, shape differently from West Bank. And, not because Kashmir’s calm can be confused for reconciliation.

The present calm essentially stems from use of excessive and novel means of repression including inducement of psychological terror. The absence of civil liberties, anxieties of demographic change and a feeling of impotence could gradually inspire a rebellion.

The early signs are already visible. Though the officials maintain that militancy is being decimated and several top rebel leaders have been killed (among 120 militants in the first half of 2020), many continue to wield the gun. The number could well be on the rise.

Several rebel fighters killed recently were fresh recruits. A slow but steady trickle of young men are disappearing from their homes, before they are discovered to have joined militant ranks. For the security officials this is not so worrying as long as the numbers are sustained through well-oiled intelligence networks and successful encounters, also because home-grown militants with little or no training and weapons do not pose a major challenge.

Sense of humiliation

Yet, an explosion beyond the sustainable limit is a possibility as the sense of humiliation, anger and loss deepens. Worse, if infiltration of arms, men and material from across the border steps-up, even a low-key war coupled with the locally accumulated anger can begin to chalk a dangerous course.

Kashmir’s historical conflict is not only internal but also a territorial one, with Pakistan controlling one-third of the territory and China occupying a portion. In 1990s, Pakistan had capitalised on the existing resentment in Kashmir to heavily fund and train armed guerrillas.

Security experts are worried about increasing infiltrations and the early signs of home-grown militancy turning radicalised. Unlike recent years, since the abrogation of Article 370, militants have targeted many civilians (primarily outsiders and those connected with mainstream politics).

Fragile situation

Additionally, India’s borders both with Pakistan and China are becoming extremely fragile. Ever since the BJP has been in power, constant border hostilities have replaced bilateral negotiations with Pakistan. In May-June this year, China’s Army devoured 60 square kilometres of the erstwhile state’s territory and killed 20 Indian soldiers in a barbaric hand to hand combat.

Even as the process of retreat has started for easing tensions, China is unwilling to completely budge. One of the compelling reasons for China’s offensive move was last year’s Kashmir action that it sees as strategically challenging. China and Pakistan are close allies and their armies enjoy some level of inter-operability which adds to Indian vulnerability.

None of the stakeholders is likely to step up the ante but border tensions are likely to assume a permanent quality. The US-China trade offensive and India’s tilt towards US can complicate the issue and potentially turn a regional conflict into one of geo-strategic interests. All it would take is one reckless move within the region or one that is inspired by world leaders.

Prolonged lockdown in Kashmir, brazen violation of human rights with poor legal remedies have already tarred India’s image. In several Congressional hearings and resolutions in US, UK and Europe, Modi’s handling of Kashmir has been castigated.

The global tectonic shifts, however, are less guided by moral questions and more inspired by strategic and economic goals. Kashmir’s volcanic situation provides fertile ground for both.

Whether tensions and Kashmir’s unrest within are sustained at a manageable level for now, New Delhi, aggressive after the ephemeral pleasure of breaking the forbidden lock, will be left with burnt fingers and remain in constant firefighting mode.

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This story first appeared in Kashmir Times

Apni Party or Unki Party? What’s in a name? But the strange christening of new Jammu and Kashmir based political formation as ‘Apni Party’ meaning ‘Ours/ My Party’ evokes curiosity. Whose party is it, anyway? What does it stand for in the changed geographical and political context of Jammu and Kashmir and what is its relevance? Is it also just a case of amusing coincidence that the newly adopted flag of the party resembles the police flag in times when the region resembles a police state under excessive surveillance and curbs?

Born out of an odd conglomeration of political leaders and activists defected from existing political groups, particularly National Conference and Peoples Democratic Party, including mostly those who were recently released from their detentions or house-arrests after their incarceration in make-shift jails since August 5, 2019, this party carries the distinctive tinge of an artificial creation. Such engineering feats in politics are neither unknown to Kashmir, nor are they exceptional to this region. Political manipulations are known to be an intrinsic part of politics throughout the length and breadth of the country. But this new venture is a far more curious phenomenon.

At a time when restrictions in Jammu and Kashmir are easing and communication blockade has been further minimized but speaking out still remains forbidden, it would be overtly optimistic to presume that the troop of 40 lead by Altaf Bukhari is displaying exceptional valour simply inspired by the need for enthusing some political energy into the region, seven months after the state’s changed political and geographical status. That Altaf Bukhari enjoyed a luncheon meeting with BJP’s Ram Madhav and was a special invitee to the official lunch hosted for the European delegation of select right-wing lawmakers from Europe allude to the fact that Bukhari’s political venture has the blessings, even if it doesn’t have the pugmarks, of the Centre. (That may explain the diligence that has been done in reinforcing the narrative of ‘self’ with the assumed name of the party).
The history of Jammu and Kashmir in the last seven years reveals that, to a great extent, such an exercise is not new. Old wine in new bottles with New Delhi’s machinations are tried and tested formulas in the last seven decades. At a cursory look, there is an uncanny resemblance of Bukhari’s rise to Bakshi Ghulam Mohammed taking over the reins of both National Conference and the erstwhile state in 1953. On the whole, however, such comparisons are misplaced and encourage mis-reading of the possible future, a luxury that one can ill-afford.

At the superficial level, the significant difference is that unlike Bakshi who was a leader of some reckoning and was entrusted with the job of reviving National Conference out of the umbrella of Sheikh Abdullah as well as handed over the reins of the state as prime minister, Bukhari, who is still a political novice, appears to have one task at hand – forming the party and building public confidence in whatever it stands for. Will he get to experience the Bakshi moment of tasting and wielding power is a case of there being many a slip between the tongue and the lip.
The key to understanding the difference is in trying to understand what the future now entails.

What sets this moment apart, primarily, is the ideological gap between Nehru, who first started the trend of political manipulations and turned the political circus of the region into a puppet show by replacing Sheikh with Bakshi, and the present prime minister, Narendra Modi. While the former was an enigmatic person, liberal in his views but authoritarian in his actions, the latter is authoritarian both in ideas and actions. Modi’s path to the end goal may have been paved by Nehru’s blunders of destruction of democracy in Kashmir but essentially his goal appears to be different from Nehru. While the latter, despite his secular leanings, was inspired by lack of confidence in Kashmiris and his method was conditioned by the insecurities with respect to Jammu and Kashmir’s Muslim majority status, Modi is driven by the RSS worldview of Hindutva which pivots around exclusion of Muslims and views Kashmiri Muslim with extreme contempt. This clear distinction of ideological moorings reflects the possible difference in the end-result of this exercise which is not aimed at coronation of another Bakshi.

By any stretch of imagination, the assembly elections to the newly carved out union territory are not likely to be held till the delimitation exercise that gives the BJP led Centre the added ability of manipulating a Hindu majority in the legislature. The delimitation exercise is likely to make a departure from the past. The BJP is already trumping up the argument of delimitation on basis of area, and not population, to give Hindu majority Jammu region more share of seats. Also on cards is reserving seats for refugees from Pakistan Occupied Kashmir. In no case is the next chief minister going to be either a Kashmiri or a Muslim, queering Altaf Bukhari’s dreams. Given the unease of the Jammu leaders including those from BJP on losing the special status of the state, losing domicile rights and downgrading of the state, it shouldn’t be much of a surprise that the next chief minister, whenever that coronation takes place, could well be an outsider.

It is unlikely for the BJP-RSS to loosen its grip on Jammu and Kashmir after the special status has been scrapped. So, the question arises why the BJP would invest in Bukhari’s party? It remains to be seen whether Farooq Abdullah’s sudden release has a political motive or whether there is calculated method in shifting some of the political leaders, like Sajad Lone and Waheed Parra, from sub-jails to their homes and putting them under house arrest. While the flurry of some political activity that may follow some of these steps will showcase the heavy-weights of Kashmir’s politics as completely impotent, BJP will strengthen itself by fattening its cadres in the Valley and other parts of the state – an exercise that has been going on in the last seven months of an otherwise gagged and silent region.

Some trends in history are likely to be repeated. Like the Congress did in the sixties, BJP could make inroads into the Valley. But unlike then, the other political beings can now become complete disposables, ready to be dumped and discarded whenever required. The die is cast. If the drama that unfolded in the last seven decades was one of political manipulations, its sequel will follow with a new cast and a new script. It will have its own twists and turns, its own share of climaxes and anti-climaxes. The drama will unfold gradually, mostly in accordance with the script prepared by New Delhi but the Part II will be very different.

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This story first appeared in newslaundry.com

SAWM member journalist Anuradha Bhasin writes how the arrest of Davinder Singh a deputy superintendent of Jammu and Kashmir Police has opened the dark side of the security apparatus in Kashmir. Beside delving deep into the layers of thus arrest she insists on the search for truth and truth only.

The police officer’s arrest is much more than just the plot of a thriller.

On January 11, Davinder Singh, a deputy superintendent of the Jammu and Kashmir police, was arrested while ferrying two terrorists and an overground operative in his private car to Jammu.

Singh’s arrest is not just a shocking revelation about the nexus between terror operatives and security agencies. It exposes institutional decay in the security apparatus in a region where the government’s obsession with security concerns rides roughshod over democratic norms and people’s civil liberties.

The arrest — and Singh’s chequered past — raises many questions. Several official claims following the arrest only add to the mystery. However, beyond the story of Davinder Singh lie serious issues of security, and patterns of impunity in Kashmir. The challenge is to grapple with all these conundrums without being selective.

Zoom in on the arrest

Davinder Singh was arrested with two militants, Naveed Mushtaq and Rafi Rather, and an alleged overground worker. Vijay Kumar, the inspector general of police, Kashmir, addressed a press conference a day later. He said he had received specific intelligence that two militants in an i10 vehicle were travelling to Jammu, that the vehicle was going fast, and that he directed the deputy inspector general of police, South Kashmir, to put up a checkpoint in his area.

What was the nexus between the DSP and the terrorists? Where and why was he ferrying them? Were they being transported for a possible false flag strike? If so, where?

“I must have lost my mind to do what I did,” Singh reportedly told a police interrogator after failing to impress them with his theory of having nabbed a top terrorist. Singh has since been handed over to the National Investigation Agency.

While only a fair investigation can settle the question of what the arrested men were up to, the riddles need to be linked to Singh’s murky past.

Now, rewind

Recruited as a sub-inspector in 1990, Singh and another probationary officer were accused of selling contraband when some narcotics were seized from a truck, and faced an internal inquiry.

“There was a move to dismiss them from service which was stalled by an inspector general rank officer purely on humanitarian grounds and the duo were shifted to the Special Operations Group, a team of policemen engaged in countermilitancy offensive,” a news report on Tuesday quoted police officials as saying about this case. “However, he could not last there for long and was shifted to the police lines, only to be rehabilitated in 1997 again in the SOG. During this period, he was posted in Budgam and is alleged to have indulged in extortion for which he was sent back to the police lines.”

The report added, “His proper rehabilitation began in 2015 by the then Director General of Police K Rajendra, who posted him in district headquarters of Shopian and Pulwama. However, after some alleged wrongdoing during his stint in Pulwama, the then Director General of Police SP Vaid transferred him in August 2018 to the sensitive Anti-Hijacking Unit in Srinagar, though the move was opposed by some other officers.”

According to the Structures of Violence, a report by the Jammu and Kashmir Coalition of Civil Society and the International Peoples’ Tribunal on human rights abuse in the erstwhile state, Singh was among four police officers accused in the June 2000 abduction, torture and extrajudicial killing of 19-year-old Aijaz Ahmad Bazaz of Gowkadal, Srinagar.

The report states, “On 15 June 2000, Aijaz Ahmad Bazaz went to meet his relatives at Bemina, Srinagar. On 17 June 2000, the family of Aijaz Ahmad Bazaz heard that he had been picked up by the SOG of the Jammu and Kashmir Police, Humhama Camp. The family members went to the SOG, Humhama Camp, and met SHO Imtiyaz and Davinder Singh. Both of them accepted that Aijaz Ahmad Bazaz was with them and that a meeting would be arranged if Rs 40,000 was provided to them.”

The report, published in 2017, continues: “On 22 June, 2000, the Kral Khud Police Station informed the family of Aijaz Ahmad Bazaz that his dead body was with them. He was shown to have been killed in an encounter at the Bemina Bypass, Srinagar. The family of the victim did not file any report in the police station nor did they seek any relief. The family believes that Aijaz Ahmad Bazaz died due to torture. It is unclear whether the police itself filed an FIR in the case.”

Around that time, Davinder Singh had become notorious for abduction, torture and extortion. He was even nicknamed “Torture Singh”.

He was named in another extortion case, where he faced trial in a sessions court. The court had directed the police to take action against him in 2003 after finding him and another DSP guilty of extorting money. The order was ignored.

All this was in the public domain.

However, the most damning allegations about Singh’s shoddy past came in connection with the 2001 Parliament attack case, in which Afzal Guru was sentenced to death on the basis of circumstantial evidence. Guru was hanged in 2013.

Guru wrote two letters with similar content, one to his wife Tabassum and the other to his lawyer Sushil Kumar. Tabassum’s letter was printed verbatim in Kashmir Times and the Asian Age before being picked up by other local newspapers in Kashmir.

Guru alleged he had been tortured by Davinder Singh and two other policemen, and coerced into working for them. Subsequently, he added, Singh sent him to Delhi with one of the Parliament attackers, to provide basic logistics.

At the time, some journalists went to interview Singh. He threatened one of them, but admitted to another to having tortured Guru. However, he denied the allegation of coercing Guru into providing logistics for the Parliament attack. These interviews were published, one was on camera.

It is not clear whether the letter was produced before the Supreme Court while it was hearing Guru’s case. But its contents have been public since 2004. Neither the court nor the police took cognizance of the allegations to investigate Singh’s role. Many officials at that time dismissed the contents of the letter as a “figment of Guru’s imagination”.

The letter also named two other police officers who had been in touch with Guru – Vinay Gupta and Altaf Hussain, a relative of a police superintendent named Ashiq Hussain bukhari.

Interestingly, someone named Tariq is mentioned in the chargesheet of the Parliament case as one of the three people who had masterminded the attack. Guru had met Tariq at the Humhama torture centre and, Guru’s letter said, Tariq advised him to cooperate with the police to save his skin.

Guru wrote: “In the same Humhama STF camp there was one more victim named Tariq. He suggested me that I should always co-operate with STF otherwise they will always harass and will not let me to live normal — free life.”

Nandita Haksar, who was Guru’s lawyer for a while, writes in her book The Many Faces of Kashmiri Nationalism: “The other two, Ghazi Baba and Masood Azhar, were well known militants but never learnt anything about this mysterious man, Tariq, either from the media or during the trial.”

The Tariq story was also never probed.

While Guru’s letter can’t be treated as the gospel truth without a thorough investigation, it was simply ignored. He was hanged to “satisfy the national conscience”, on the basis of circumstantial evidence of his role in providing logistics. The man alleged to have sent him to do this job was not only not questioned, he was left free to carry on business as usual.

Singh’s confession to at least using torture to break people in his custody, including Afzal Guru, did not raise an eyebrow higher up, where illegitimate forms of torture are normalised. Especially when it comes to Kashmir.

The list of people in Kashmir who have been tortured or coerced into working for counterinsurgency forces, including the Army and paramilitary forces, or used as human shields is so long that the practice is treated as a norm. Some of the SOG personnel have been especially notorious. But personnel from other forces have been no better.

According to the Structures of Violence, which documents hundreds of cases, Tasveer Hussain of Haveli, Poonch, was allegedly picked up by an Army officer, Captain Pyara Singh Toor, on August 23, 2003. Hussain was confined and tortured, and subsequently died as a result of the torture.

An FIR was filed by the police but the Ministry of Defence in 2011 declined sanction for prosecuting Toor. In 2008, the State Human Rights Commission, on the basis of a report on police investigations, had indicted the officer and recommended Rs 1 lakh ex-gratia government relief and compassionate employment for Tasveer’s family. At the time of his arrest, media reports quoted Tasveer’s family members as saying “the Army wanted him to work as a source for the Army but he refused”.

The pressure on surrendered militants to work for security agencies in counterinsurgency operations is well-documented. In her report, Violent Activism: A Psychosocial Study of Ex-Militants in J&K, noted psychologist Shobhna Sonpar collated many testimonies from several former militants that highlight this point. “The pressure on surrendered militants to cooperate in counter insurgency activities is considerable,” the report said. “Many do so to protect themselves from militant retribution. Some volunteer to be absorbed into the police as Special Police Officers.”

This practice of pushing former militants back into the throes of violence comes with the additional methods of abuse, humiliation and intimidation, as pointed out in this report. But they have become an accepted and normalised part of the system. So have allegations of corruption, extortion, and other wrongful practices by men in uniform.

In line with this, Davinder Singh’s list of ignominious actions is large. But it is partly due to the normalisation of such wrongful practices — including extortion, torture, even custodial death at the hands of the uniformed personnel — that they are left untouched.

However, the allegations made by Guru were far more serious. This was a case that shook the nation and changed the political narrative of the country. Questions thus arise whether there is more to the culture of impunity that is imposed through this normalisation or possible callousness.

Davinder Singh’s case may not be an aberration. The allegations against him are reminiscent of another case that never got a fair probe.

In 2013, celebrated and decorated “encounter specialist” Shiv Kumar alias Sonu was in charge of the SOG, Kishtwar. He was accused of coercing young men into carrying out “subversive activities” after a grenade blast at a police station in Thathri. In 2017, he was acquitted by the Bhaderwah sessions court after 15 key witnesses turned hostile.

Importantly, the court observed that the “police have not investigated the case properly, and directed senior superintendent of police Doda to hold enquiry into the matter”.

Nothing is known about any such enquiry thereafter.

Fast-forward to present case

Singh has a long dark trail that can no longer be ignored. In particular, there are two key questions that beg answers.

The argument that he was doing this for petty pecuniary benefit at a time when security and surveillance in the valley has been maximised is unpalatable. After preliminary investigations, some officers pointed out that he was getting Rs 12 lakh for the job. The argument seems implausible, not only in view of the fact that the two terrorists he was ferrying out of the valley had a much bigger bounty on their heads, but also because of the risks involved.

Guru had alleged that he was coerced into working for Singh and had been specifically sent by Singh to provide logistics for the Parliament attack about which Guru had no knowledge. In light of the present case striking a chord with Afzal Guru’s letter, it is important to know who was taking orders from whom. Was Singh working for Naveed Baba, or was it the other way round?

Second, in view of Singh’s background, it is important to ask whether he was allowed to come this far without patrons at a higher level. Who was protecting him? Why? Will the truth of this deeper malaise ever emerge?

Reading another leaf from the past would be instructive. In 1996, human rights lawyer Jalil Andrabi was abducted from his home and killed, allegedly by Major Avtar Singh of the Territorial Army. The case never received a fair probe. Two years later, journalist Hartosh Singh Bal interviewed Avtar Singh at the Territorial Army’s barracks in Ludhiana, at a time when the Jammu and Kashmir were still claiming that the major could not be traced.

Bal’s interview was not published at the time. But in 2011, Bal wrote an article for Open magazine, headlined “The Man Who Knows Too Much”, detailing the botched case and his conversations with Avtar Singh.

Bal wrote, “In 2000, the SIT finally told the court what should have been verified much earlier — that Avtar Singh was still in Ludhiana. Soon after, despite the court orders, Avtar Singh was able to obtain a passport and leave the country for Canada, and then Selma, California, where he runs a transport service, driving his own truck. In February this year, his wife reported him for an incident of domestic violence. When the Selma police checked his records, they found there was an Interpol Red Corner notice against his name.”

In a telephonic interview with Bal, Avtar Singh had said, “I am being made a scapegoat. Since I was originally from the Territorial Army, it is easy to disown me and deny the culpability of other organisations.’’ He pointed to a major in military intelligence who went by the code name of “Major Clifton”.

Bal wrote: “But, I ask him, what if the extradition does go through. He does not hesitate: ‘There is no question of my being taken to India alive, they will kill me.’ Who will, I ask him. ‘The agencies, RAW, military intelligence, it is all the same.’’ He has also just told me about constant threats from the Al Qaida and I’m inclined to not take him seriously, but he goes on: ‘If the extradition does go through, I will open my mouth, I will not keep quiet.’”

In 2012, Avtar Singh was found dead. He is alleged to have killed his family and then committed suicide. It’s not known if the deaths were investigated.

Like Avtar Singh, Davinder Singh is a man who not only has a shady past but probably also knows too much. How will the NIA deal with him?

In light of these revelations and related questions, many other cases in which security personnel have been accused of torture, killings and hob-nobbing with militant groups or other criminals need to be opened.

This is necessary to maintain ethical practices and for the security of the country. The complicity of some personnel in cases of human rights abuse, and the impunity they have enjoyed in evading prosecution, has been an issue well-recognised in the past. The Davinder Singh case makes it imperative to probe the probable complicity at a much deeper level in perpetuating terror attacks.

Who are the people patronising him and those like him? Who are their sponsors?

This case highlights that the wars of the counterinsurgency are not just about valour, but can be murky and dirty. As long as the success of counterinsurgency operations is measured in terms of the number of kills that may remain so.

A senior security official recently described Davinder Singh as “an asset gone rogue”. The question is not only about when assets turn rogue and whether or not there is a seamless transition between the two domains, it’s about the notions of “asset” and “rogue”.

Is it that as long as personnel involved in wrongdoings are believed to be crucial to counterinsurgency operations, they are seen as “assets”? Is it also that the moment they begin to hob-nob with terror operatives they turn “rogue”? Or, do they become “rogue” only when caught?

Too many questions. But the quest should only be for the truth — the absolute truth.

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This story first appeared in Kashmir Times

India is experiencing mass protest across the country against the BJP led central government. Editor of Kashmir Times and SAWM member Anuradha Bhasin Jamwal writes where exactly Kashmir stands and why the slogans and the resistance will ring hollow without Kashmir.

India’s moment of Arab spring is here. After some years of rejoicing over hollow promises and even some parochial themes, followed by denial and silence, there is now a sudden awakening – the country’s common citizens have woken up to the dark reality of the divisive, communal and authoritarian politics and policies of the rulers. They have spoken and have outrightly rejected the vision of a communal and fascist India. The final prompter was the discriminatory Citizen Amendment Act and related extension of National Register of Citizens that puts the onus on the individual to prove that he/she is a citizen of the country. The sea of humanity that is pouring out on the streets in various parts of the country comprises people from all religions, castes and all walks of life walking shoulder to shoulder – Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs, Buddhists, Christians, Bollywood stars, politicians, academics, students, clerks, housewives and the petty workers – all together. One nation, united by their diversities and a common cause – to protect the Indian constitution which deems all citizens as equals, guarantees them the right to free speech and the right to protest. The lead has been taken by the youth of the country – the brave-hearts who dared to speak when very few were and faced the brutality showered on them by the state with courage and dignity.

Before the students decided to come out of their comfort zone, few murmurs of protest were being voiced by some liberals of the country. What may have gone unnoticed or ended in a whimper took the country by storm last week when in response to protests police ran amok in the campuses of two prestigious universities – Jamia Millia Islamia in Delhi and Aligarh Muslim University. Whether the police action provoked a violent protest in the two places or vice versa remains a chicken and egg story. But the brutal action was disproportionate enough to spark a nation-wide outrage. Barring some protestors metamorphosing into mobs and resorting to violence, the protests have been exemplary and a display of courage, determination and discipline. With anxieties of minorities and secular liberals already brewing, the country has been caught by a storm, unnerving the rulers whose only response is to crush the rising dissent brutally, leading to deaths, torture, molestations, maiming, arrests and communication curbs. The loyalist media comes in hand to give every story a spin, dwarf the peaceful marchers and superimpose the violent mob frenzy, demonise the protests and conveniently ignore police brutality. Also, ignored are the questions of whether the police was using disproportionate force, vandalizing public property, tear-gassing and firing point blank instead of firing warning shots in the air. There is also silence as some reports point out that BJP activists wearing skullcaps were arrested for mixing with the protestors and giving them a violent turn or sundry such allegations.

Familiar? For many, today India resembles the streets of Kashmir. In some ways, that is true. Kashmir has become the epitome of peoples’ anger, repression and restrictions. Kashmir has been treated with contempt and the resistance of its people has been demonized and branded “anti-national”. Peace-loving Indian citizens with unflinching faith in the constitution and the values of equality, liberty and secularism it embodies are getting a taste of the same bitter pill. Only, that the tyranny being witnessed in many parts of India today, particularly in BJP ruled states and those where BJP is in control of the police, is only a microscopic fraction of what Kashmir has been going through, not since August 5 but for decades. The BJP only enhanced the scale of tyranny much more, post 2014, even more post-August 5 this year. All this while, the vast teeming majority of liberal and secular Indians have either viewed this repression with denial or indifference, even endorsement. Their silence has legitimised the brutality that has been perpetuated on the people of Kashmir. The same brutal methods from the rule book of the tyrants has now come home to haunt.

But undaunted, they are resisting the challenge. Two things, however, are crucial to strengthen their arsenal of courage and determination. One is the sustenance of this movement as a peaceful and non-violent one. Faced with brutality, sabotage and even some trouble-makers within their own ranks, this may not be an easy challenge. They would need to remain calm, determined, well connected, organize this moment of spontaneity and be smart enough to pre-empt a hundred ways in which the government would try to undermine the resistance: the most obvious is to beat the war drums or amplify the terror anxieties.

Secondly, the liberal and secular Indians resisting the mighty authoritarian regime and fighting to reclaim the republic also need to grapple with their own guilt of silence on Kashmir so far. Had they spoken for Kashmiris, who have faced multiple times the tyranny that is now being unleashed on students, in atleast some universities, and other public of the country, they might not have seen this day. Their silence continued to give legitimacy to tyranny. It is important to recognize that. As they march with a fire in their belly to reclaim their republic, it is also important to recall Kashmir and talk also about the continuing oppression there. It is important to appreciate that while they march on, even that privilege is denied in Kashmir. In October, a group of Kashmiri women, mostly retired academics, who gathered in Srinagar to organize a silent protest with placards were not only disallowed but also jailed and released a day later only after signing bonds that forbid them to protest.

Talking about the atrocities, gags and lockdown in Jammu & Kashmir is not only important for rekindling hope in the Valley and building new foundations of trust between the Indian mainstream and Kashmiris, the very remaining residue of which has been destroyed since August 5. It is also important because exclusion of Kashmir from the discourse of equality, liberty and secularism and from vehement opposition to brutality would turn their vision of liberal and secular values a farce. Their slogans and their resistance, without Kashmir, would ring hollow.

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Recently the editor of Kashmir Times, Anuradha Bhasin, was at Mumbai Press Club to talk about the situation of Kashmir, which has been kept cleverly under wrap by the State. She talks about the Media, the local journalists who are facing huge trouble to report the reality. She was in conversation with Nirupama Subramanian, Resident Editor of  ‘Indian Express’.

Kashmir Times editor Anuradha Bhasin on Thursday described the clampdown that followed the Centre’s abrogation of democratic rights to the people of the region. She had fi led a writ petition in the Supreme Court seeking its restoration of normal working conditions for the media in the affected region.

Bhasin made the statement during a discussion with constitutional lawyer Aspi Chinoy and Nirupama Subramanian, resident editor of The Indian Express, at an event organised by the Mumbai Press Club.

The Kashmir Times editor said members of the local press had to face many more challenges in comparison with their counterparts from national media organisations. “There are greater hostilities at the checkpoint if you are a local Kashmiri journalist,” Bhasin said. “A sense of intimidation from the state is huge because you live there. Kashmiri journalists feel more vulnerable than their colleagues from outside the region. They are under surveillance.”

Reporters have access to only one media centre, which has only four computers to file their reports from, she said.

The Centre, she said, has constantly changed its narrative about normalcy returning to the region. “We do not know when the clampdown will be withdrawn,” Bhasin said. “But the initial picture created by the government with (images of National Security Advisor Ajit) Doval dining with locals is that everything is normal. They (the Centre) came up with certain documentary evidence that things are fine in Kashmir. Now, 46 days later, they say that normalcy is gradually returning to the state. So were theyw were lying before?”

Meanwhile, Chinoy compared the situation in Kashmir to the state of Emergency imposed by the Indira Gandhi-led government in 1975. “This (Kashmir clampdown) is an undeclared emergency,” Chinoy said while adding that the clampdown did not have any legislative basis. “The situation in Kashmir is a complex issue. But the decision taken on August 5 has worsened the situation further,” he said.

Subramanian, who had recently visited Kashmir to report about the clampdown, said the locals are angry with the media’s coverage of the situation. “They are not happy with TV channels that are reporting normalcy in the valley when everything is shutdown,” Subramanian said.

Independent journalist Kashif Khusro’s video, highlighting the prevailing conditions in the Valley, was also screened at the event.

In August, the Parliament had done away with Article 370 which granted special rights to Jammu and Kashmir.

This story was originally published in Mumbai Mirror.

How exactly does it feel when after one month the landlines start to ring in a media office? The complete information shutdown in Kashmir for the last one month is barring to get the real picture. Journalists never felt such an isolation before. The process of silencing the voices from Kashmir seems irreversible to them. Anuradha Bhasin Jamwal, a journalist from Kashmir & a SAWM India member pens down what is the real situation of the Media industry in Kashmir right now.

Finally, after a month-long siege on communication, the landline phones in our Srinagar office have begun to ring.

In a digital age, this is not a relief – it’s a privilege. If that sounds ironic, check again. We’re dealing with Kashmir, where even the basic phone connectivity has become a luxury.

Since September 5, thus, it is a privilege to speak to my bureau chief and other staffers for longer than just the minute-long call that they could occasionally manage to make from the media centre set up by the government at a hotel, a few kilometres from the office. A few stories, with little information, have been hurriedly filed from there since August 18 – that is, if they were lucky enough to get a space at the computer to be able to do so, and the internet connectivity was good enough for them to send an email. All this was done under complete surveillance; names and details of callers and the called were duly noted, names of senders and receivers registered.

From the complete silence between August 5 and August 18 to September 5, the 18 days were reduced to the daily grind of uncertainty about whether staffers would be able to file their stories by the end of the day, keeping the Jammu head office hands full throughout the day. Apart from managing the region’s regular beats, the Jammu newsroom has had to fill in the gaps of silence by scavenging for Valley-related news published in different publications across the country and the world, sifting information and compiling reports based on stories already in the public domain, just in case we didn’t hear from our Srinagar-based reporters. There was no way to call back and get clarifications or verify anything.

One step forward, a month on. Now, I can finally dial the Srinagar bureau’s landline numbers and if I’m lucky to get through, before I’ve wearied-out my fingers while trying each number several times, I can now hear a voice at the other end and make some meaningful conversation, even if there is the dread that the phone lines may be tapped.

The tribulations at the Jammu office are enhanced by weak internet connectivity and the trickle of information from five districts (Poonch, Rajouri, Doda, Kishtwar and Ramban), after month-long silence, where phone communication is now restored but internet is not. Some reporters and stringers have managed to send e-mails from government officials’ connections, but these stories are restricted to official statements.

Other than that, things remain where they are. On September 5, when landline phone lines opened up, the working at the media centre came to a grinding halt as the internet connectivity went kaput for the day. No stories were filed. On September 8, in view of protests over the ban on Muharram processions in parts of Srinagar, the security restrictions were re-imposed, making it difficult for staffers to reach the media centre.

It, thus, remains business as usual as we continue to struggle with how voices from Kashmir can be heard and how the printing of the Srinagar edition of Kashmir Times can be resumed.

In striking contrast to this reality, the government refrain remains: All is well. A more realistic response is that “things are improving bit by bit”. As far as media industry is concerned, “nobody is stopping them from publishing” or “some newspapers are being published”. And yet, as basic concerns of journalists remain unheard, despite these minor “improvements in situation”, the Kashmir media seems to be not just caught in a static situation but is also standing on the precipice of a disaster, virtually being strangulated.

Kashmir’s media has operated under severe stress and strain in the last three decades of conflict, negotiating the challenges and threats of novel methods of gags, censorship and physical intimidation from state and non-state actors. Newspapers have been banned from time to time by both the state and militant groups. Media persons have been jailed, physically attacked and killed.But today, the challenges exist at multiple levels of logistical impediments and the lack of freedom to operate, bringing all voices to an unprecedented freeze and pushing information into some kind of black hole from where its recovery is becoming an irreversible journey. Poor resources and limited budgets, in view of the various advertisement bans that have hit media houses badly in the last decade, further limit their power of negotiating with the present challenges.

The Media Centre, under constant surveillance, remains the sole method of sending and receiving stories, though some may have been lucky in managing to steal some more moments in the cyber skies by borrowing connectivity from other privileged places where internet connectivity has not been disrupted. Journalists reporting for publications outside the Valley are also finding innovative ways to send their stories on pen-drives sent through passengers traveling out of the Valley. The reliability and regularity of any of these mediums remains inconsistent.

In this situation, the efforts of those managing to print newspapers with regularity are brave, especially considering that in the first few weeks, the mobility of staffers and the to-and-fro travel from newspaper offices in the Lal Chowk area to printing presses in the Rangreth industrial area, 11 km away, often without ‘movement passes’, was almost an impossible task to accomplish. With restrictions on mobility decreasing, more papers have been added to the list of those being printed.

In a land-locked region like Kashmir, the newsprint and most printing material supplies are well stocked for over a month. With the situation prolonging and movement on the national highway still disrupted, how will these be replenished in a few days or weeks from now? If they can’t, will the newspapers being printed be brought to an abrupt halt, even if temporarily?

More importantly, in their present form, the publications are reduced in size and quality. Giving space to very few local voices, which are cautiously worded, much of the space is dedicated to government handouts and news downloaded from different news agencies outside the Valley. The comment articles, other than some mediocre pieces on inane things completely disconnected from Kashmir and the present situation, are virtually missing. No editorials appear, other than some occasional ones skirting any serious issue. How does one engage with these new rules of ‘press freedom’?

In this scenario, the challenges before our newspaper are also augmented by the fact that unlike other Valley-based newspapers, its head office is in Jammu. Many of our questions become even more difficult to find a response to. With minimal connectivity, how does one transfer the editorial and opinion pages, how does one arrive at major editorial decisions to be taken in tricky situations in the face of poor connectivity between the Jammu and Srinagar offices?

The logistical unfeasibility of publishing is only one issue at stake. A larger and more vital question is of the difficulty faced by every Kashmiri journalist working for local or outside publications in getting information and gathering news. While rumours multiply, the channels of verifying them have begun to shrink. Landline phones (though the weak connectivity remains a little debilitating) helps only minimally in getting stories verified. While only some officers have telephone facilities, ordinary civilians still do not have them and it becomes impossible to physically investigate each and every detail.Besides this, most officers are unwilling to speak and pass on the buck to the officers holding the daily press conference are authorised to speak. The ‘daily press briefings’, which are not held as daily as they are made out to be, remain a farce. Two or three questions are entertained and none are answered without being reduced to ridicule. Sample this: a journalist asked about the restoration of phone connectivity and the senior official addressing the press conference responded, “Why, do you have to talk to your girlfriend?” Such retorts illustrate how the question-and-answer session after every press briefing has been turned into a non-serious and farcical exercise. Questions and concerns are either unanswered or answers mock and trivialise the issue.

Last week there were ‘inputs’ on five people being killed in Soura. With officials inaccessible, there was no way to verify. Our Srinagar staffers thankfully used their own sense of discretion and avoided the story. The next day, it turned out to be a rumour.

It is not only state officials who are shying away from responding to media queries. Many people are hesitant to share any details with journalists. The reporters in the districts, where the situation is still not well known, are yet to find a way to communicate. Some Srinagar-based journalists working for publications outside the state have walked the extra mile to make few voices audible to the world. There are voices, however, that are still silenced behind an invisible wall. Within the Valley, the voices have virtually disappeared.

The silence of information is not born in a vacuum, it is linked to the local conditions and the widening domain of fear that exists between the might of the government that can detain anyone without a charge and some faceless non-state actors, suspected to be militants, who sometimes paste intimidating posters or use the gun against hapless ordinary civilians. The highly volatile and embittered young generation that has begun to take charge of a counter state narrative may also soon become an intimidating force to reckon with.Mediapersons are exposed to greater vulnerability. In the run-up to August 5, one web portal editor, Qazi Shibli, was arrested. Another journalist, Irfan, working with a local paper, was picked up and released few days later. Senior journalist Gowhar Geelani was barred from leaving the country at the airport, before he was flying out for a training course. At least three journalists have been served notices to vacate government accommodation in the middle of abnormal conditions in the Valley.

Last Saturday, four photojournalists were beaten up by security forces while covering an attempt by Shia community members to take out a Muharram procession. One of them received pellet injuries. On Sunday, a woman journalist working for The Tribune, Rifat Mohidin, had her car rained on with police batons and she was verbally abused. Earlier, a woman journalist working with an international TV channel was abused by security forces while reporting an incident in Nowhatta.

In normal circumstances, such incidents would have inspired the outrage of local press bodies, they would have gathered at the Press Enclave for sit-ins and protest marches, journalist deputations would have met high level delegations in the government. Right now, there is hardly a whimper. The world of media in Kashmir has changed like never before.

When it becomes a choice between life and professionalism, truth becomes a casualty and speaking out becomes an unthinkable blasphemy. Amidst the increasing fear, there is a helpless surrender that stems from hopelessness. The present situation may be temporary and may improve by notches, yet it renders everything permanent. In their heart of hearts, every journalist fears that this process may be irreversible.

Intolerance to dissent at the highest echelons of power is deepening and unlike the rest of India, the Kashmiri journalist is also grappling with two extra phenomena – first, the threats of militants and angry mobs; and second, the demonisation of Kashmiris in the nationwide imagination of what is “anti-national”. The month-long information vacuum has fuelled rumours, myths and untruths to take firm root, enhancing the sense of intimidation and fear.

In a month or so, or perhaps more, there is the likelihood that more communication networks could by and large be restored. And finally, so may the internet facility eventually return, depending on the situation in Kashmir. Reporters will be able to file their stories and local publications will be able to print easily. But what voices will we get to hear? Will publications resembling publicity pamphlets suffice as newspapers?

A newspaper is not measured by the length of columns it can print but by the words and images it offers. That kind of a commodity may soon become extinct in Kashmir.

New Zealand’s ‘hijab’ campaign as part of solidarity for its Muslim community has been viewed differently across the globe. Many liberal feminist friends from across South Asia critiqued the move as ‘patronising’ and ‘stereo-typing Muslim women’ on the social media.

 
The argument was based on the assumption that hijab is oppressive. I am afraid that by bracketing a piece of cloth and its user into neat black and white categories, we are endorsing the very stereo-types we claim to fight. Should clothes be an indicator of who an individual is in terms of religion, region, beliefs and opinions? If the stereo-types of Muslims with beards, skull-caps and burqa or hijab have painted a radicalized image of the community the world over, by appropriating the right to be liberal only by discarding these apparently Islamic symbols, one is creating a stereo-type of another kind.

 
Hijab’s popularity across the world has increased in recent years. Kashmir is no exception where the young girls have picked up the hijab that their older generation had discarded. Does it signal a sexist bias, religious assertion and eagerness of young to wear their religion on their sleeve? The reasons for wearing hijab vary from person to person. While some wear it as part of religious faith irrespective of the patriarchy that it symbolizes, for some it’s a popular fad where as many other women link it to the conflict and use it as an assertion of their religious and Kashmiri identity in the face of constant demonization and vilification of the Muslim, particularly Kashmiri Muslim. The hijab, for them, becomes a symbol of defiance rather than being oppressive.

 
While hijab is often a subject matter of discussion and debate in the name of liberalism and gender rights, one wonders whether a similar debate would revolve around bindis or other sundry symbols that in some cultures are used and worn as a compulsion rather than for their physical appeal. Like the hijab, the bindi can be worn for its fashionable appeal, for its religious symbolism peppered with its patriarchal quotient. That unlike the hijab, the bindi is less likely to be bracketed as gender oppressive and a matter of religious display, or have the potential of sparking an intellectual debate, is proof of the selective stereo-typing of some dress codes even by the liberals, of perpetuating stereo-types while endeavouring to fight them.

 
Some tend to draw parallels between the ‘hijab’ and the ‘ghoonghat’. The latter is more akin to the burqa – both denoting the exclusion of women from public space. The ‘ghoonghats’ and ‘burqas’ are more regressive, not only because they come from sexist positions but also because they tend to ghettoise women into isolation. But such generalisations could be misleading as well. Women in ‘ghoonghats’ and ‘burqas’ are known to have broken their shackles and barriers too in some ways. In Rajasthan, many self-help groups are being run with the active involvement of women in ‘ghoonghat’. Kashmir’s famous feminist poetess Rumuz dons a burqa. Her poetry nonetheless remains just as soulful and liberating.

 
The hijab narrative is even more nuanced. Many women donning the hijab are known for their liberal views as compared to some who do not wear it. Noted feminist and liberal writer, Kamla Das, began wearing the hijab after she converted to Islam at the age of 65. Her political and feminist views remained the same. I have known women who discarded the hijab at some point in time in their life, and those who adopted it as a way of life after years of not wearing it. None of them ceased to be the persons they were. They remained the same in terms of their faith, beliefs and views.

 
It is difficult, even erroneous, to create categories on basis of dress and dress-codes. Being judgmental on this count is to rob an individual of an agency that is as much being exercised while wearing or not wearing a hijab or any other thing that is symbolic from a gender or religious perspective. What’s in a hijab, afterall? Nothing that matters, but the person beneath. If hijabs are seen as regressive, the discourse that outrightly looks at hijabs in a condescending way is no less oppressive and militates against the liberalism that is being espoused by failing to recognize individual choice.

 
It was this right to choice that France denied by imposing a ban on hijabs. The ban has not helped the French nation from seeing Muslims as the ‘other’. During the reign of Kemal Ataturk in Turkey, a militant brand of secularism, imposed by the state invoked a similar ban which gave women no choice. If women wished to fall into the category of being liberal and secular, which the Turkish state wanted them to be, they had to discard their hijabs. The move didn’t make Turkey any more secular – the increasing might of right-wing Erdogan in present times serves a reminder. In Saudi Arabia, on the other hand, women cannot move outside without a hijab or burqa.
It is not the hijab that is essentially oppressive. The forced imposition of hijabs or the forced bans on it are what are far more oppressive. The problem is less in the ‘parda’ that is adopted as an attire, the problem is more in the ‘parda’ on the minds that create stereo-types.

 
At one superficial level, New Zealand, which has shown exemplary courage, morality and true spirit of liberalism and secularism after the shocking terror attack on Muslims, may have endorsed the stereo-typed image of the Muslim women with its ‘Hijab Day’ observation. But in a world of Islamophobia, that allows countries like France to crackdown on its Muslim population through a hijab-ban, New Zealand has also made a significant political statement.

source: Kashmir Times

The complexity and intractability of Kashmir conflict has the strange potential of impacting every sphere of life including routine daily hum drum of ordinary lives in a myriad ways; and correspondingly everything under the sun has the inane ability of getting intrinsically politicised. The common joke in Kashmir is that even a needle laying on a table would qualify for a political engagement. In this conflict zone of chaotic proportions, the influence of structures of governance and political-administrative set-ups on the conflict are a given. The over-arching authority and control of the two states, directly or indirectly, through the seven decades has been a major factor in the way Kashmir’s conflict has shaped on both sides of the Line of Control. While the conflict itself is rooted in the inability of offering the people the choice of deciding their political future, many other factors act as catalysts in augmenting the conflict.
But it is perhaps for the first time that a vast body of existing scholarship on Kashmir has been enriched with a new work, methodically and exhaustively researched, revealing an important dimension of how governance has interacted with the conflict in the last seven decades. The nature of the state, its politics and actions is under scrutiny. Has it helped ameliorate the conflict? Or deepened it? In his book ‘What Happened to Governance in Kashmir?’, Aijaz Ashraf Wani traces the historical journey of politics, political figures and political developments in Indian administered Jammu and Kashmir, the Centre-state relations and the manipulative methods wielded over political rulers of the state by New Delhi from time to time.

 
The book focuses solely on the developments in the Indian administered part of the state and while doing so offers massive insights into New Delhi’s attempts to monopolise the politics of Kashmir right after 1947 as part of its integration project and its shoddy attempt to democratise the state through employment of the most ruthless and un-democratic means, brazenly or clandestinely. Whether it was erosion of Article 370 by tunneling out its content bit by bit or clamping down of ‘azadi’ sentiment, the argument that New Delhi’s actions were less guided by democratic ideals and political propriety and more by the mistrust of Kashmir’s politicians is built up by the author through laborious research, events and the complex narratives; also a comparative study of the personalities of the lineage of rulers in the state.

 
The book gyrates around politics and governance and views the impactive change on the ground. It studies in detail the successive rulers, their seasonal proximity to central government, their own blunders and weaknesses and their final exit after the very nascent signs of resistance. Delhi patronised politicians, put up with the dichotomies of the successive rulers or used them to suit a larger agenda including building up a campaign against their one-time favourite rulers. Delhi thus assumes the role of the grand puppeteer and turns the regional political players into puppets with interchangeable roles – for instance Sheikh Mohd. Abdullah’s transformation from the patronized monarch to an arch-enemy.

 
Wani relies on existing research, picks up on it to see how various political events related to governance have had a far-reaching impact on the public and shaped their perceptions and psyche. Much of what the author dishes out is already available in the public domain and in the rich body of literature related to Kashmir conflict. However, his real contribution is in stitching it together like a flowing inter-connecting fabric along with the mesh of internal and external complexities to put things in a clear perspective and makes a valid argument.

 
He sees the manipulations by New Delhi and Kashmir’s political elites as the prime catalyst in the alienation of the masses and the consequent eruption of armed insurgency challenging the Indian State in Kashmir. Governance, he argues, was not limited to the imposition of ‘client governments’ and loyal rulers; it encompassed an over-arching ambit of the landscape of Jammu and Kashmir by turning Kashmir into a ‘state of exception’ with a heavy dose of excessive militarisation, security related legislations, regimes of impunity, denial of fundamental rights and civil liberties to Kashmir’s population, subversion of democratic institutions and processes, erosion of its special status and the over-significant role given to the Indian intelligence agencies in perpetuating its networking of surveillance and aiding the process of manipulation.

 
The book starts with an impressive context detailing the conditions of economic isolation, geographical limitations, financial crisis and political instability in which Kashmir was placed after the upheavals of 1947 followed by laying down of the edifices of the governance model; also, how this had an interplay with the complex dynamics of region, religion and economic conditions. It offers a critique of Sheikh’s Naya Kashmir programme, the limitations of its implementation and the nuanced impact it had on the social and economic fabric of the state. It talks about the Sheikh’s repressive measures and financial crisis militating against the spirit of the vision. The author sets the tone for rest of the pages with his remarks,

“……governance has been and is being largely scripted by New Delhi within the broader framework of the policy of coercion and consent to meet the challenges emanating from the state’s disputed nature………. Yet, the personality and priorities of individual rulers and specific conditions in which each of them also influenced the tone and tenor of governance.”

 
Rest of the chapters are dedicated to rulers and their governance from 1947 to 1989, within this scheme of arrangement. The author finds in the land reforms the seeds of mistrust between New Delhi and Sheikh Abdullah and in Sheikh’s ruthless and corrupt governance, the widening of chasms between different regional and religious identities, paving the ground for the horizontal and vertical penetration of intelligence agencies, which had a role to play in Sheikh’s deposition, and consequently leading to New Delhi’s greater control over the political scene in Kashmir. While Bakshi Ghulam Mohammed recovered the lost ground with respect to development and administration, his undemocratic practices were a source of embarrassment for New Delhi. His attempt to bring back the plebiscite from the bag proved to be the last straw. The deepening levels of corruption during his regime finally provided New Delhi with the excuse of dumping him in favour of G.M. Sadiq. The heart of the matter is summed up in the words of the latter:

“whenever New Delhi feels a leader in Kashmir is getting too big for his shoes, it employs Machiavellian methods to cut him to size…..”

 
The book traces the onward march from one ruler to another, as mis-governance and the ‘more loyal than King’ proximity to New Delhi started giving birth to radical ideas from 1960s onwards, excessive corruption and rigged elections that finally acted as major catalysts for insurgency. The author writes,

“Although the democratic expression of dissent against mis-governance was suppressed by the misuse of power, it resurfaced violently in 1989 by providing a mass base for armed revolt against Indian rule in Kashmir.”

 
The author also cites Hindutva politics of the RSS as a mover and shaker in conditioning New Delhi’s handling of Kashmir and the weakness of successive Congress regimes that succumbed to the power of the right-wing forces in apologetically patronizing the counter narratives to Kashmir from Jammu and Ladakh. The complex diversity of the state and its contentious political narratives that are linked to both regional and religious identities, in the light of such a history, beg the answer to the conundrum of whether these contesting and polarizing aspirations are a culmination of local flavours or also a result of Machiavellian politics employed to enhance, if not manufacture, divisiveness. This has not been dealt with at length. The author falls short of an elaboration of how such divisive politics interacts with social, political and economic inter-linkages and how they impact the overall politics of the state and the psyche of the people. But that perhaps is not the scope of this scholarship. How the state was governed and how politics evolved in the state, further shaping the course of the conflict, post-1989 is also missing. He merely leaves the developments of 1988-89 with conclusion that flawed policies turned a limited insurgency into a full-blown mass movement while averring that both the Indian and Kashmiri intelligence agencies showed culpable negligence till militancy took deep root in the valley. The political events since then and the multiple governance failures ever since are a potential mine-field of another academic engagement, perhaps a sequel to this book.

 
The main crux of this work is to examine the potential of politicised and manipulated governance in the augmenting the conflict and sowing the seeds of insurgency in the state. The strong-armed tactics to integrate the state obsessively resulted in pushing the people of Kashmir to the other side and finding in the gun the power to fight back. The author writes:

“Civilisations die by suicide, not by murder. This is the lesson of history. And this is what happened to the Indian state in Kashmir. The youth were forced to take up the gun when the ballot was denied to them.”

 
This analysis mirrors the warning of noted political analyst, Eqbal Ahmad had written,

“The reality is that New Delhi’s moral isolation from the Kashmiri people is total and irreversible. It might be reversible if India were to envisage a qualitatively different relation with Kashmir, one which meaningfully satisfies Kashmiri aspirations of self-government, but so far New Delhi has evinced no inclination in this direction.”

 
A valuable resource, the book is a significant contribution and brings to light the relation between governance and conflict in Kashmir; and offers a perspective and argument that has never been backed heavily with research and detail. It is a must read for those interested in engaging with Kashmir and understanding the nature of the conflict. The crux of the matter is: The manipulation of the state to create desired results broke the very edifices of democratic structures and institutions, making Kashmir a ‘state of exception’.

 
The cover design by Mir Suhail captures the essence of the book. The title of the book which ends with a question-mark itself is cryptically telling. It is not only about tracing the governance patterns and its continuing trajectory of failures, machinations and political manipulations. It also raises the valid questions of the ‘invisibalisation’ and ‘queerness’ of governance. Was it inspired by the democratic ideals enshrined in the Indian constitution and its commitment to liberal values or conditioned by insecurities and anxieties of losing Kashmir? The question mark is symbolic of the inability of the governance in meeting public aspirations – political, economic, social and developmental, relegating it to a mechanism of simply managing the conflict.

source: Kashmir Times

MARGINALIA

To the many unprecedented methods employed in the last seven decades by New Delhi while handling a hot potato like Kashmir is yet another addition – three-phased polling in Anantnag parliamentary constituency. The move is being reasoned as necessitated by the immensely worrisome security situation of South Kashmir.

 
South Kashmir last went to polls in November-December 2018 for panchayat and municipal bodies in an election infamously called the ‘ghost’ election. That elections were put on hold in 1600 seats, hundreds of seats went uncontested and the identity of candidates remained unknown for the voters till they pressed the button on the EVMs and less than 1 percent polling was witnessed is solely a reflection of the default mechanism in Indian elections that validates such an exercise which by any democratic yardstick will be called only a farce. The low polling pattern was more a result of the increasing disenchantment of the voters with electioneering and also the increasing mass frustration rather than the security situation. No major incident of violence was reported during the elections but the boycott-call for polls turned out to be unprecedently successful.

 
Is the security situation of South Kashmir really that fragile? According to official estimates, no more than 300 militants are active across the Valley. A large percentage of these are operating in South Kashmir. Ever since, the Anantnag parliamentary constituency fell vacant in 2016, the government has either not been able to hold elections there or did not try to. If security situation is the logic for keeping the seat vacant for three years, it militates against the ability to hold panchayat polls (howsoever farcical in the recent past) and the recent announcement of a three-phased election for one constituency.

 
While symbolically, a three-phased poll for one constituency which has been vacant for three years is a reflection of the failure of the state and an open admission of the unmanageability of the conflict, the odd-ness of the move goes beyond its symbolic failure.

 
Unlike the mostly incident free conduct of panchayat polls three months ago, within four days of announcement of elections, two people have been gunned down on two consecutive days. Are these aberrations or do they herald the pattern that is likely to emerge in coming weeks? The December polls and the April 2019 Lok Sabha elections are separated by four months and the Pulwama strike, which could well signal a decisive phase in Kashmir’s militancy. Nonetheless, any of these speculations do not explain for the selective manner in which Lok Sabha polls have been announced while keeping assembly polls on hold or the prolonged delay in holding the parliamentary by-poll for Anantnag

 
Lok Sabha by-poll for Anantnag was kept in abeyance for three years. In 2017, the polls were post-poned after Srinagar-Budgam by-poll was held. If security grounds necessitate a three-phased poll now, why could these not have happened before when the militancy situation was much less intense? 2018 polls have been the bloodiest ever in the last two decades in the Valley; more than 500 people have been killed, including civilians, security forces and militants. Militancy is receiving an upshot due to excessive human rights violations and spiraling anger and frustration of the public, also inspiring unarmed villagers including women to reach encounter sites to save the militants. The absence of fear and not the fear of gun dictated the voting patterns in panchayat and municipal polls.
The recent panchayat and local bodies polls demonstrate the farcical character of holding polls in the existing atmosphere where polling was almost a naught. A necessary component of elections is ‘free and fair’ polls, and by that virtue the successful completion of the process is meaningless without the participation of the public. The significance of such an election needs to be weighed not only in terms of ability to conduct the exercise but also the level of participation. Kashmir’s phenomenon of abysmally low polling in fact necessitates reforms within the electoral system to put a bar on minimum percentage of overall votes polled.

 
While it may go down in record as a legitimate one, such an election makes a mockery of democracy. The decision to hold elections in Kashmir is not necessitated by moral or ethical questions but political expediency. The expected polling percentage, the convenient withholding of assembly elections which best meet the aspirations of the public and a three-phased election for Anantnag stem from a design that does not appear to be noble.

 
There are two possibilities in the Anantnag elections. Either polling will follow the panchayat election pattern or it will marginally improve in view of the participation of two key regional parties, National Conference and PDP, who under normal circumstances would be the main contenders with Congress as the third runner up. If it is the former, the BJP would gain – as in the ghost panchayat elections – that gave the saffron party the advantage of absence of opposition, candidates and absence of voters. If it is the latter, it would give BJP the handle to brag about an improved situation, a selling point for elections in rest of the country in the aftermath of the Pulwama attack. At the same time, the saffron flag waving in the constituency cannot altogether be ruled out. South Kashmir has been the bastion of PDP in the last two decades and NC has its traditional cadres intact, though weakened. The cumulative impact of the dwindling graph of PDP, the disenchantment with electoral politics and low polling, even with a marginal improvement since December last, could give the ruling party an advantage which hopes to use a three-phased period for using its managerial skills.

 
Kashmir is also not unfamiliar with the brazen use of the security forces in the elections between 1996 and 2002 for forcing people into election booths and influencing the voting trends. The mood since 1996, however, has undergone a major change and is far more rebellious in nature even for this kind of an imposed election to work effectively. The polling percentage and the outcome of the election will eventually become insignificant in the face of the rebellious mood that has the potential of pushing Kashmir into a more dangerous phase of the conflict. The election could only become a catalyst to that end.

source: Kashmir Times