Below the surface in a ‘new Kashmir,’ anger over repression by India

Oct 9, 2024 | Kashmir Coverage (General News)

As the region holds long-delayed elections, many Kashmiris see voting as an act of resistance rather than democratic expression.

NEW DELHI — Shuttered movie theaters are now open, as are new cafes, market roads and sports facilities. Government schools have been renamed after police officers. A train line connecting the Kashmiri capital Srinagar and Delhi is almost ready to open. The Indian flag is everywhere.

After decades of violent conflict between separatists and Indian authorities that killed thousands, the Indian government now speaks of a “new Kashmir.”

But these snapshots mask a feeling of repression voiced by residents across Kashmir. Since the Indian government revoked the region’s special autonomy in 2019, Kashmiris deemed too vocal or too close to separatists have been fired, jailed or warned to stay silent.

After a six-year delay, Kashmir is holding elections for the local legislature. About half of Kashmir’s eligible residents, according to official poll numbers, have cast their votes over the past few weeks.

In a region previously known for its election boycotts, even former separatists are running for office because, many Kashmiris say, there is no other way to be heard. The results are due Tuesday.

“The establishment interpretation is that they are coming out in such droves because democracy has been restored,” said Siddiq Wahid, a history professor at India’s Shiv Nadar University who is from Kashmir. “Nothing could be further from the truth. The voter turnout is a keen realization of the fact that enough is enough.”

An absent sense of safety

For three decades, stone-throwing Kashmiri protesters regularly clashed with security forces outside Mohammed Saleem Anfal’s business. It got so bad, he said, that he eagerly made regular trips to Delhi and even spent his honeymoon there.

Decades earlier, Srinagar, a picturesque city surrounded by mountains, had been the go-to honeymoon spot for many Indians, but tourists stayed away as violence brewed. Now, Indians are again considering Kashmir for honeymoons. And the absence of clashes has allowed Anfal, 46, to grow his pharmaceutical business, he said.

But even with the new malls and tourists, he added, a “sense of safety is still missing.”

Kashmir, a Muslim-majority region, was granted its special status after Britain in 1947 partitioned colonial India into two countries, India and Pakistan, and the leader of the region called Jammu and Kashmir decided to unite with India instead of Pakistan at the time of their independence. Since then, India and Pakistan have fought two wars over the Himalayan region. Each country now administers separate parts of it while claiming all of it. Decades of separatist movements in India’s part of Kashmir were triggered in 1987 by an allegedly rigged election.

In 2019, the Indian government revoked Jammu and Kashmir’s autonomous status and clamped down on the region, jailing thousands. Opposition politicians, journalists, lawyers and civil rights activists have since been arrested under stringent laws that allow detentions without trial. A local nonprofit, the Forum for Human Rights in Jammu and Kashmir, estimates more than 2,700 people were arrested between 2020 and 2023. Journalists have had their passports revoked and their newsrooms raided. Srinagar’s shuttered Press Club is now a police office.

While ending the special autonomy for the region, India’s government converted it into a union territory. Government officials have promised that the region will eventually be given statehood again.

But as a result of the 2019 decision, legislators elected during the current contest will have no power over matters of public order or police and will need approval from the lieutenant governor appointed by New Delhi for any financial decisions.

“To call this a democratic exercise would be wrong,” said a Kashmiri journalist with a prominent newspaper who spoke on the condition of anonymity to avoid potential repercussions. “It’s a cosmetic success.”

And it’s the only way, residents say, to express their dissatisfaction. In previous elections, “people would not vote out of anger and fear,” said Imtiyaz Ahmed Dar, a construction business owner. “Now, people are coming to vote driven by fear and anger.”

Genuine or enforced peace?

Senior Indian government officials who oversee the region offer a much more upbeat perspective. In interviews, they said the increased arrests and other security measures have curtailed the violence and blocked Pakistan’s influence, adding that only a few bad actors have been detained, to prevent them from continuing to express “anti-India” thoughts that violate the country’s constitution.

“No country can allow people to speak against national security or national integrity. Any feeling of a lack of freedom is a very small proportion. And if they want freedom for terrorism and anti-national activity, that won’t be allowed,” said one official, who spoke on the condition of anonymity so he could speak freely. “It’s a narrative created by political parties. Kashmiris know that the future of Kashmir is with India.”

The official provided a litany of examples of new investments and development projects that have transformed the region.

In recent days, the Indian government sponsored a trip for more than a dozen foreign diplomats to witness the election activities. South Korea’s deputy chief of mission told Indian state media that they are seeing “democracy working.”

But journalists with foreign passports were not granted permission to travel to the region during the election period so they could cover the voting, and some outside experts are expressing skepticism about the value of the elections.

“We are watching an event unfold that is choreographed as a romance, but it is in actuality horrific,” said Angana Chatterji, a South Asia scholar at the University of California at Berkeley. “The votes are a plea for a voice, for visibility, and an act of resistance.”

There is also some skepticism about the official claims of newfound economic success. Haseeb Drabu, Jammu and Kashmir’s former finance minister, said that investors are aware that “the absence of armed insurgency does not necessarily mean peace.”

Shakeel Qalandar, who runs a woodworking business, said he has seen factories close all around him, while the unemployment level soars. The tourism boost is tremendous, he said, but it’s a fragile “deck of cards” resting on a “temporary, enforced peace.”

He added, “Dignity and respect will always be more important than development.”

Running from behind bars

For two weeks, 16-year-old Sugra Barkati, wearing a black head covering and black gloves, has campaigned on behalf of her jailed father, hoping that if he is elected, he’ll be freed. Her father, Sarjan Barkati, known locally as “Freedom Uncle,” was arrested twice in the past six years for holding rallies against India and charged with funding terrorism.

On a recent day, a crowd ran to Sugra, kissing her hand, some in tears, screaming, “We will vote for your father, and he will be out of jail soon.” A group of young boys under the shade of walnut trees chanted, “We will avenge jail with votes.”

Twenty-five miles north, surrounded by nearly ripe apple orchards, two other daughters passed out campaign pamphlets. Aira, a 5-year-old in a pink dress, doesn’t remember her father. He was jailed just two months after her birth on charges of supporting an armed insurgency.

“My sister tells me if he wins, he will come home. I want him to win,” she said.

Irfan reported from Srinagar.