India-administered
Jammu and Kashmir is on edge yet again. Yes, again. The Valley is angrier than
before. It is not anger alone, though. Neither is it a sense of alienation. It
is a bold expression of a political aspiration that most Kashmiris regard as
being legitimate, and which is deliberately being criminalised by the Indian
state and delegitimised by vast sections of the corporate-owned Indian media.
The educated, conscious and assertive generation of Kashmir is weaving its
home-grown narrative to deconstruct the Indian state’s Kashmir plot, and its
hyper-nationalist media’s conventional stance, which is propagandistic and
provocative, and that feeds on a daily diet of anti-Pakistan rhetoric.
This
new generation in Kashmir is on a mission to challenge India on all fronts.
And, more importantly, seeks to counter the mighty Indian state without seeking
Pakistan’s moral, diplomatic, political or financial assistance. It is
Kashmir’s indigenous narrative that has basically unnerved India. What we are
witnessing is a renewed indigenous rebellion on Kashmir’s streets. Yes,
Kashmir’s “romantic rebellion,” where an almost romantic notion of freedom and
love for the land is combined with combative resistance. It found its
poster-boy in Burhan Wani, who was killed by the government forces recently in
mysterious circumstances in south Kashmir’s Kokernag area in Anantnag district,
some 70 kms from Srinagar.
For India and
the unpopular coalition government of the Peoples Democratic Party (PDP) and
the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), Burhan was a “terrorist” who had dared to
challenge India’s rule in Kashmir. For the Kashmiri people, Burhan was a
“freedom fighter” who chose to fight a “brutal military occupation.”
Kashmir’s
resistance against India found its new icon in 2010 when Burhan, then a
handsome 15-year-old boy from the south Kashmir town of Tral town – the new
bastion of home-grown militancy – some 40 kms from its capital Srinagar, joined
the ranks of the rebel outfit Hizb-ul-Mujahideen. Joining a rebel group at such
a tender age is unprecedented.
Burhan did not
come from an underprivileged background. His father, Muzaffar Wani, is a
principal at a government secondary school. Burhan enjoyed all the comforts a
teenager in Kashmir or anywhere else in the world would aspire
to. Why then, did he pick up a gun and challenge the state?
Many educated
youth in Kashmir perceive the very presence of the Indian army and paramilitary
troops as a “military occupation” of their homeland. As did Burhan. In fact, he
set the tone for a renewed rebellion. In this teenager, Kashmir’s new-age
militancy found its new hero soon after the culmination of the wave of
anti-India protests, which saw more than 116 boys, mostly in their teens,
killed in the action of government forces.
Burhan changed
the traditional dynamic of guerilla tactics in the restive Himalayan Valley by
appearing on social media in army fatigues and through short video messages
that instantly went viral.
In no time,
Burhan became the divisional commander of Hizb-ul-Mujahideen, Kashmir’s largest
indigenous militant outfit. He kept the state’s security and intelligence
apparatus on tenterhooks. With his strikingly good looks and relatively
moderate messages, he began attracting many educated youth to armed militancy
while using social media to good effect. Soon, the number of local militants in
the Valley outnumbered foreign militants. The Indian government heaved a sigh
of relief when Burhan was killed in an encounter. But his death was viewed as a
colossal loss by the Kashmiris. Nearly 250,000 turned up at his funeral.
Kashmir erupted once again.
Is this the
beginning of a battle between young Kashmir and the Indian state?
In
the absence of any political engagement with public representatives like the
All-Parties Hurriyat Conference (APHC) and the Jammu & Kashmir Liberation
Front (JKLF), a section of the Kashmiri youth believes that it can alter the
political status quo by resorting to the gun. Then there are those who believe
that they have to fight India with whatever they have at their disposal, even if
it be a stone. Every stone hurled at Indian soldiers – “symbols of occupation”
– is a political expression of the Kashmiris’ challenge to the Indian state’s
authority in Kashmir.
Why this shift
from the non-violent movement for azaadi (freedom) to a renewed armed
rebellion, or a Palestinian-style Intifada?
In 2008, the
people of Kashmir had made a conscious transition from the gun culture to
peaceful protests.
However, the
infamous Amarnath land transfer row during the PDP-Congress coalition rule
sharply divided opinion in the Muslim-majority Kashmir Valley and
Hindu-dominated Jammu. Kashmir faced an economic blockade. Kashmiris were
protesting against the grant of hundreds of acres of land to Shri Amarnath
Shrine Board (SASB), a temple trust, because they perceived this as an attempt
to change the demographics of the Muslim-majority region. Government forces
rained bullets on peaceful protesters, killing more than 60 civilians, most of
them in their teens.
Kashmir tried
again, in 2010, when a popular wave of pro-azaadi protests unsettled India. The response
to this peaceful movement, which was later compared to the Arab Spring of
Tunisia, was more brutal and cruel than the earlier one. More than 116 Kashmiri
boys, again mostly in their teens, were killed. A message was conveyed by India
to the dispossessed and disempowered Kashmiris: “You can’t raise your voice.
You can’t protest. If you do, you will get what you deserve: bullets, pellets,
death.” This message forced the present generation of Kashmiris to do a
rethink. They arrived at a discomforting conclusion: India neither understands
nor respects a non-violent political movement. That’s how Burhan was born. And
that’s how he became the poster-boy for Kashmir’s new-age rebellion, and
another reference point in Kashmir’s recent history.
There was a
personal context, too. In 2010, Burhan was travelling on a motorbike with his
elder brother, Khalid Wani, and a common friend. They were stopped by
a checkpost of the police’s Special Operations Group (SOG) in Tral, and
ordered to buy cigarettes for them. Reluctantly, the trio obliged. Even then,
they were ruthlessly beaten up by the SOG personnel. Burhan could not see
Khalid, his brother, in pain. Allegedly he told the government forces, “I will
not forgive you for this.” He left his house and spent the next three days at
his aunt’s place. The humiliation and the beating were never to be forgotten.
Soon
enough, the 15-year-old schoolboy, who was not regular with his prayers would
bathe twice a day and apply gel to style his hair, became a poster-boy of
Kashmir’s new tide of rebellion.
In 2015,
Burhan’s elder brother, Khalid, told his parents that he was going for a picnic
with friends and took along some home-cooked biryani. Instead, Khalid and
some friends made a plan to meet Burhan in the Tral forests. Khalid was
followed by government forces and killed brutally. His father, Muzaffar Wani,
had expected to receive Burhan’s body, but got Khalid’s instead. At his
funeral, two other young boys from Tral, Sabzar and Shakir, joined the Hizb. A
year later, Muzaffar Wani received another son’s body – this time it was
Burhan’s!
Following
Burhan’s killing on the evening of July 8, Kashmir was on fire. At least 47
civilians died, most of them in their teens. Bullets and pellets were rained on
the thousands of Kashmiris who came out to protest and mourn the death of the
rebel commander by government forces. According to a government spokesperson,
more than 345 minor and major surgeries have been performed in the valley in a
week’s time. Anxious young Kashmir men, with bandages on their eyes, before or
after undergoing surgery to remove the tiny steel pellets from their retinas,
could be seen lying in bed in several hospitals, wondering whether they would
be able to see again. Indian forces in Kashmir use pellet guns to stymie
streets demonstrations and refer to the pellets as “non-lethal” weapons. The
fact is that over 2,000 persons are badly injured and over a 100 of them are on
the verge of losing their eyesight forever.
As Kashmir
counts its dead, the PDP-led coalition government is absent on the ground. In
2014, PDP leader and current Chief Minister, Mehbooba Mufti, had asked for
votes with a promise to keep the right-wing BJP out of power, but ended up
forming an unholy alliance with them. This was perceived as deception, as prior
to the assembly elections, the PDP had worked hard to create an image of being
a “soft-separatist” political party which favoured self-rule for Kashmir. But
it hankered after power and ended up forging a partnership with the
ideologically antithetical BJP.
Moreover,
once it formed the government in March 2015 ,under the late Mufti Sayeed’s
leadership, it promised reconciliation with Pakistan and talks with the
Hurriyat. But there was no progress on these fronts. After Mufti’s demise in
January 2016, his daughter,Mehbooba Mufti took over as chief minister in March.
A series of controversial decisions were taken by her government, which
included proposals like settling migrant Kashmiri Pandits in “composite
townships” and constructing “separate colonies” for former soldiers. Kashmiris
likened these proposals to Israeli-style settlements. Mehbooba Mufti, who was
seen visiting the families of slain militants to offer condolence in her first
stint in power, was in charge of an operation to “neutralise” Burhan Wani in a
questionable encounter. Now the PDP MLAs are running for cover.
Burhan’s
killing was one of the triggers for the current uprising. It was not the
reason. The reason is political, as the majority of the Kashmiris firmly
believe that Kashmir is an unsettled dispute. They want a political solution.
They are demanding their right of self-determination. India is facing a new
generation of Kashmiris – a generation which is confident, conscious and
educated. This is a battle between young Kashmir and old India.
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