On August 5, 2019, as National Security Advisor Ajit Doval boarded the BSF aircraft to Srinagar, he confided in his aides: “Failure is not an option!” Later, in the Intelligence Bureau’s Guest House at Srinagar’s Gupkar Road (sequestered for the rich, the famous, the powerful and the spooks) Doval reassured his closest advisors: “If we succeed, all the credit goes to you; if things go wrong, only I am to blame.” Within a few hours of Doval’s arrival at Srinagar’s Sheikh-ul-Alam airport, Union Home Minister Amit Shah had announced, in Parliament, the abrogation of Article 370, the temporary provision within the Indian Constitution that had given a special status to Jammu and Kashmir.
Almost five years later, a beaming Shah — in a recent interview to a Jammu headquartered TV channel, Gulistan news — declared that J&K had been virtually transformed because of the momentous decision of revoking a constitutional provision that many had thought to be irrevocable. He declared also that the elections to the J&K Assembly would be held by September 30, 2024, as stipulated by the Supreme Court; and the Centre was seriously considering revoking the dreaded Armed Forces Special Powers Act — the provision that gives security forces impunity before the law in the conduct of anti-terrorist operations.
On the anvil of the next general election, an analytic audit of New Delhi’s policies towards the region can produce startlingly counter-intuitive conclusions. As a Union Territory, Ladakh, with admittedly the maximum space for dissent but far more privileged in terms of central support than most parts of the country — has articulated ferocious discontent much beyond the heroics of my friend, the innovator, Sonam Wangchuk (Phunsukh Wangdu of 3 Idiots).
In contrast, in Jammu and Kashmir, while it is difficult to measure alienation under the prevailing circumstances and the hard security posture, the political mood is surprisingly tentative and even subdued.
Consider this. Through his imagination rooted in conspiracy theories, a shop owner in Srinagar’s handicrafts-laden Polo View (who saw in me, a Kashmiri Pandit academic, a larger-than-life creation of the Indian state with direct access to Panchavati on 7 Lok Kalyan Road) pleaded: “We don’t want Azadi; we just want our culture, our land and our jobs to be protected.” His views were echoed by a couple of others, who abandoned their chess game, to join this conversation and the consensus seemed to be: “We don’t want to be special. We just want to be equal!” The touristy Polo View is hardly a representative sample, merely an anecdotal encounter; but when numbers are missing or shifty, stories can be telling.
In short, at the risk of further disconnecting me from my liberal brave hearts, New Delhi may just have pulled off in Kashmir what was arguably one of the riskiest decisions in contemporary Indian history.
Clearly, all those who expected an intense international backlash because of the abrogation of Article 370 were mistaken. Other than Turkey, Malaysia and, expectedly, Pakistan, criticism — if any — was muted. In contrast, New Delhi’s relations with the Gulf and much of the Muslim world have improved in the last five years; and even the meetings of the UN Human Rights Council in Geneva, which would be full of Gongos from India and Pakistan — have hardly attracted attention.
Let us face it, over 70 years, Article 370 was seen as almost an article of faith by a section of the people of Jammu and Kashmir. The Supreme Court, through its December 11, 2023 judgment (by upholding the abrogation of the Article), has finally brought matters to a legal closure, and most mainstream parties have grudgingly accepted the decision as final.
Surprisingly, for many, and there were many Cassandras who predicted this, there has been no domestic rebellion, no home-grown intifada on the streets of Kashmir because of the abrogation. Even the harshest security clampdown of the 1990s and later did not prevent protests, militancy, or terrorism. The relative calm in the Valley is reflected in the huge increase in domestic tourists; from the super-luxury Khyber of Gulmarg to the cosier Dove Cottage of Srinagar, all accommodation is booked for the spring and summer. On development and governance, the jury is still out. Srinagar is far from being a smart city, and the power situation is dismal.
What next? First, it is critical that the forthcoming elections are completely free and fair. Recall that it was rigged elections, in the past, including the infamous 1987 election, that contributed to the alienation on the ground; it is vital that the central government maintain a critical distance from all parties. J&K is still far too important to become an instrument of partisan politics. Let the full play of electoral democracy be evidenced: Manifestos, electoral mobilisation, public rallies, and the populist competitiveness that is natural to a multi-party democracy.
Second, the Supreme Court has also expressed the hope that statehood is restored to Jammu and Kashmir at the earliest; earlier Shah had also committed to a return of statehood at an appropriate time. The appropriate time is now.
Third, there is no real plan for the return of Kashmiri Pandits, and even the RSS is not as actively championing their cause. Ensuring this return must become the cornerstone of the Centre’s policies. Perhaps it is time to also consider the need for a Truth and Reconciliation Commission inspired by the role played by such a commission in anti-apartheid South Africa and actively help in the return of the Pandits with dignity.
Finally, it is time for the discourse to move “from being special” to the new Polo View narrative of “being equal”. Most residents and leaders of the state would recognise that as an equal member of the Indian federal polity, they may enjoy greater freedom and rights than they did as a special state. After all, today, Tamil Nadu, Odisha or West Bengal is able to preserve its cultural identity, political space, and economic well-being much better than J&K was able to do as a special state of the Union. What J&K may need today is a Naveen Patnaik, Mamata Banerjee or an M K Stalin — deeply protective of the cultural identity of their voters, committed to grassroots politics and good governance and whose nationalism is never in doubt.
Mattoo is dean, School of International Studies, JNU and has just completed a personal-political memoir of Kashmir to be published by Penguin
In Jammu and Kashmir, while it is difficult to measure alienation under the prevailing circumstances and the hard security posture, the political mood is surprisingly tentative and even subdued. (Express file photo by Shuaib Masoodi) 
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