A Kashmiri voice from the forbidden Valley: The Siege Within

A Srinagar resident speaks to Ashlin Mathew on condition of anonymity after coming out of the Valley

A voice from the forbidden Valley: Kashmir: The Siege Within
A voice from the forbidden Valley: Kashmir: The Siege Within
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Ashlin Mathew

We are luckier than most people in Srinagar. We managed to buy and store 300 kgs of rice and 100 kgs of ‘dal’. I bought a month’s stock of medicine for my mother. Most people have not been as fortunate. The saving grace is that over the years Kashmiris have learnt to look out for each other. People are kind and caring and it is unlikely that people will go hungry.

Another saving grace is that in the Valley, Kashmiris are used to lockouts, curfews, military presence and confinement for weeks together. Defence mechanisms have been built up to survive the siege. In almost every neighbourhood, there are small, almost invisible groceries in the lanes, selling vegetables, grains and essential items. So, even when the main streets are out of bounds, normal life is affected as little as possible.

Rumours have become a part of our life. And rumours flew thick and fast in the first week of August. The army held a press briefing to suggest that Pakistani terrorists had infiltrated and planned to attack the Amarnath Yatris. That was the explanation given for calling off the Yatra abruptly and to justify the visible increase in the deployment of security forces. When tourists were ordered out of the state and outstation students were asked to leave, rumours acquired a life of their own. Nobody knew what to believe or how much to believe.

Late evening on August 4, landlines fell silent. We soon realised that Internet connections had been snapped. That was usual but when the electricity also went off, panic hit us. This was summer in Srinagar, the least pleasant time of the year, when the weather is muggy and it’s difficult to sleep without the aid of a cooling fan. But more than the discomfort, it was the panic that got the better of us. There was darkness all around and we could not reach many of our relatives. Without electricity, TV sets were also of no use. Most people brought out the radio and tuned into BBC and Voice of America to try and figure out what was happening.

One of the rumours held that a war was imminent. A huge explosion was being planned at the LoC, the rumour said, and Pakistan would be held responsible, providing the justification to launch a strike.

After Amit Shah announced in Parliament the next day that Article 370 had been abrogated, electric supply was restored. That day, it felt like death in the Valley. We didn’t eat that day. A sense of gloom and despair had overtaken the people and we found it difficult to eat or drink.

We realised that there was no security threat; that the heavy security deployment was designed to keep us under control. Communication lines were shut down to stifle us. We posed the threat to the nation.

Eid

Eid was a week away. But there was little to celebrate. It was announced that curfew would be relaxed for Eid, but didn’t. On Eid there were actually more restrictions than usual. All the Jama Masjids — the main mosques — were locked and people were told to offer prayers at the neighbourhood mosques. We always prayed at the Jama Masjids on Eid. But clearly the attempt was to prevent large congregations. A couple of days before Eid, a few shops did open up. But most people either had no money or failed to reach the market. Banks and ATMs were not working either and public transport had not resumed.

A festival is a joyous occasion and there should ideally be a sense of well-being in the air. But people felt betrayed and were sullen. Most people did not buy a lamb and sacrifice the animal as is done on the day. The meat is usually shared with friends and family, but with the curfew in place, most people knew they would not be able to go about partaking anything. So, what was the point anyway?

The airport was open though and the air fare even less than in normal times, following a directive from the Centre. But for three weeks after August 5, air tickets were only available at the airport. With the communication blackout, online purchase was out of question. And with the curfew in place, travel agents and city offices had shut down.

But with public transport off the roads and security check points dotting the road to the airport, reaching the airport was not easy. Even for well connected people in the capital with private vehicles and contacts in the government, it was difficult. For people from the districts and villages, there was little option but to walk. Seeing people walking with their luggage, stopping at every check point for searches and then resuming the walk was a common sight.

A car normally took an hour to reach the airport. But with as many as 10 check points set up on the route, my own drive to the airport took four hours. A relative of ours is in the police and yet we had a harrowing time.

Policemen were themselves demoralised following the decision to disarm Kashmir Police. The government did not trust them with arms. Though resentment among policemen is high, they have no option but to accept the humiliation. The feeling of betrayal is high among them because they bore the brunt of the popular anger at the government and they had also been at the receiving end of militants, who abused them for being ‘stooges’. And now they found themselves disarmed and dishounured. Even senior police officers have not been spared and their small arms taken away, replaced with batons. The inspectors were handed sticks even as heavily armed central para-military forces took over police stations.


In most police stations, central forces, which are armed to the teeth, outnumbered the local policemen. This has affected the morale of the police force. Earlier, at least the government trusted them, but now no one trusts them. People taunt them as they have been disarmed and there is nothing they can do. However, the Special Operations Group (SOG) the counter-insurgency force set up to deal with militants, are allowed to carry rifles.

Business

A friend planned to open a hotel as tourists had returned to the Valley. He set the ball rolling before 2014 but it took him a while to secure a loan of Rs 6 crore. By the time the loan was approved, it was 2016 and protests rocked the Valley following the killing of Burhan Wani. There was a slowdown and construction of the hotel could not begin. He eventually began it in 2017 and while he had hoped to complete construction and formally open the hotel later this year, the future for him looks bleak.

Tourism in the Valley is unlikely to revive in the foreseeable future but he has to repay the loan. He is now left in a quandary wondering how to settle his dues with the bank. This is not a lone incident; there are several people who are in such a fix.

Many firms have not paid salaries to employees for this month as the banks have been shut since August 5. The organisation I am with has not been able to pay salaries for two months. We had hoped for pay before Eid, but none of the bank branches were open. Last week, a couple of J&K Bank branches opened, but our firm doesn’t have accounts in that bank.

We couldn’t even transfer the salary to employees in Delhi. They gave us excuses not to do it. When such things happen, it only turns people restive. When the government locks down the state, it’s back to square one. We don’t have answers for people who cannot understand why they are being punished and why they are not being paid their salaries.

The clampdown, I fear, will kill small businesses in the Valley. Maybe that is what this government wants. A large number of people live on day-to-day turnover and a total shutdown for such a long period will certainly end up crippling business.

Government functioning

Government offices are open on paper. Some employees do manage to reach them even when they are forced to walk to the offices. But it has made no difference because people are missing. Governments work for citizens, but if citizens are not able to reach the offices to get their work done, what will officials do? Even those who do reach offices have no work.

The local Fire Department, confided an employee there, used to respond to three to four calls every day. But the calls have dried up, he says. The department had barely responded to two or three calls in a week and that too after people reached the fire station on foot with the information.

The sudden shutdown has thrown the future of many students in jeopardy. This is the time for submitting applications for courses and with the communication block, it’s almost impossible to apply for anything.

Those who can afford it are flying out of the city or ensuring that children leave to study abroad. Earlier, parents would send their children to Pune, Delhi or Chennai, but now there is no sense of security in any of these cities. There is this demonisation of a Kashmiri Muslim. Parents therefore feel it is safer and better to send their children abroad.

The High Court too hasn’t been functioning. So, justice has also been delayed.

What Next?

There were always people in Kashmir who supported the Central government. Their number was especially high among Shia Muslims and Gujjars. They would invariably defy boycott calls and go out to vote. Being a relative minority in J&K, the Shias and the Gujjars preferred to follow government orders. But this time even they seem to have been upset.

Earlier, despite shutdown calls by mainstream parties or separatists, areas such as Sonawari in Bandipora, some parts of Poonch and Rajouri would always remain open. Shops would be functional, people would be milling about. Now, even in these regions, there has been a shutdown and anti-government sentiment has grown. Uri, being on the border, is one of the most militarised zones in Jammu and Kashmir and even there no shops or establishments are open. The number of people who support the government has declined sharply. And the government has shot itself in the foot by targeting even those who supported them on the ground.

Being against the Central government does not mean that they support Pakistan. It only means that they are against the government and will do everything in their power to resist the abrogation. Those outside may think there is relative calm in the state and that it has not erupted like on previous occasions in 2010 or 2016. But the situation is not that simple. People are biding their time.

So, ‘what now?’ is the question on the minds of most of us.

(The identity of the Srinagar resident, who spoke outside the Valley, is being withheld on his request)

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