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Correspondent

23 August 2024 at 4:29:04 pm

Fraying Frontier

The latest unrest in Pakistan-occupied Kashmir (PoK) is a reminder that territorial control alone does not confer legitimacy. As clashes between protesters and security forces intensify in Rawalakot and other parts of the region, Pakistan finds itself confronting a crisis that has been years in the making. Across the Line of Control, meanwhile, India is celebrating the breakthrough of the strategic Zojila Tunnel, a project that promises all-weather connectivity between Kashmir and Ladakh....

Fraying Frontier

The latest unrest in Pakistan-occupied Kashmir (PoK) is a reminder that territorial control alone does not confer legitimacy. As clashes between protesters and security forces intensify in Rawalakot and other parts of the region, Pakistan finds itself confronting a crisis that has been years in the making. Across the Line of Control, meanwhile, India is celebrating the breakthrough of the strategic Zojila Tunnel, a project that promises all-weather connectivity between Kashmir and Ladakh. Together, these developments tell a tale of two Kashmirs and of two very different approaches to governance. The immediate trigger for the latest violence was the gathering of supporters of the Joint Awami Action Committee (JAAC) outside a hospital morgue in Rawalakot following the death of an activist. As security forces moved to disperse crowds, protesters and police traded accusations. Reports have emerged of several deaths and injuries, though the precise figures remain disputed. The episode comes amid heightened tensions after the PoK Supreme Court ruled that twelve legislative seats reserved for Kashmiri refugees living in Pakistan cannot be abolished without a constitutional amendment. To focus solely on the latest clashes would be to miss the deeper malaise. Public anger in PoK has been simmering for years. The JAAC has repeatedly mobilised large crowds over issues ranging from soaring electricity prices and economic distress to governance failures and demands for greater political rights. The very fact that a grassroots movement has been able to bring thousands onto the streets despite official pressure speaks to a broader crisis of confidence in the administrative structure governing the territory. For decades, Pakistan has sought to present itself internationally as the champion of Kashmiri aspirations. The recurring turmoil in PoK completely exposes the contradictions in that narrative. When protests have erupted, Islamabad’s instinct has often been coercion rather than accommodation. The unrest also comes at an awkward time for Pakistan. The country is grappling with economic fragility, political uncertainty and persistent security challenges stretching from Balochistan to Khyber Pakhtunkhwa. PoK’s troubles add another layer to an already complex domestic landscape. They utterly undermine Islamabad’s efforts to portray itself as a credible advocate of self-determination while allegations of political repression emerge from territory under its own control. While PoK remains restive, India has increasingly emphasised connectivity, investment and infrastructure in Jammu and Kashmir. The breakthrough of the Zojila Tunnel is emblematic of that approach. Once completed, the tunnel will provide year-round access to Ladakh, reduce strategic vulnerabilities and improve economic opportunities for residents. As Pakistan grapples with unrest and crackdowns, India has been attempting to knit together difficult terrain through concrete and steel. This sheer contrast lays bare the bankruptcy of Islamabad’s Kashmir policy. Its model breeds resentment while India’s model offers a pathway to stability and prosperity. The stark lesson is that legitimacy can never be earned through occupation and coercion, but through development and governance.

Selective Outrage

India’s left-liberal media has long prided itself on being the torchbearer of secularism, dissent and moral rectitude. In the aftermath of ‘Operation Sindoor,’ the precision military strike launched by the Modi government against Pakistan-based terror camps, it has revealed its not a principled commitment to peace or truth, but a disturbing penchant for ideological prejudice, performative sanctimony and selective outrage.


The operation itself was a textbook display of calibrated force and geopolitical prudence. Prime Minister Narendra Modi, often caricatured as ‘authoritarian’ by the ‘liberal’ English-language commentariat, chose patience over provocation. He consulted opposition leaders, held detailed discussions with defence chiefs and took key international stakeholders, notably the United States and Russia, into confidence before authorising limited military action. The symbolism of ‘Operation Sindoor’ was also carefully crafted: a pointed reminder that the attack’s real victims were Hindu women widowed by Pakistan-sponsored militants in Kashmir. The government’s briefings were also strategic and symbolic as two ranking female officers, one of them Muslim, were made the public face of the mission, underlining a new Indian confidence that blends military muscle with democratic pluralism.


But this was unacceptable for India’s entrenched ‘left-liberal’ press, steeped in academic jargon, Western validation and a knee-jerk hostility to anything remotely ‘Hindutva.’ That a Muslim officer briefed the nation on ‘Operation Sindoor’ was branded ‘tokenism’ by such commentators. Others crudely alleged that the April 22 Pahalgam massacre was the logical culmination of reported atrocities against Muslims since Modi came to power in 2014.


The semantic nitpicking over ‘Operation Sindoor’ was maddening. An editor of a prominent magazine dubbed the operation’s name as ‘patriarchal’ and coded in Hindutva tropes. In a bizarre case of moral inversion, sindoor was likened to symbols of ‘honour killings’ and gender oppression, ignoring both its cultural resonance and the cruel reality that these women had lost their husbands in cold blood. For years, India’s ‘secular’ commentariat nurtured a preordained binary: the Congress may be flawed but was at least ‘secular’ while the BJP was an inveterate ‘fascist.’ Thus, the 2002 Gujarat riots are always focused upon but the Congress-backed pogrom of the Sikhs in 1984 is either downplayed or rationalised. Terrorism in Kashmir is tragic, but state retaliation is ‘jingoism.’ A strong Muslim voice in government is ‘tokenism’ but its absence is ‘exclusion.’ Even journalistic rigour is selectively applied. When Pakistan claimed to have downed Indian jets, some Indian outlets rushed to amplify the story before verification, inadvertently echoing enemy propaganda.


Dissent is vital in any democracy. But when its becomes indistinguishable from disdain, when editorial choices are dictated by ideological conformity, then the press becomes a caricature of itself. Ironically, many of these journalists enjoy robust free speech and loudly lament India’s supposed slide into ‘fascism’ from the safety of their X handles. Yet they turn a blind eye to Putin’s repression, Erdogan’s purges or Xi Jinping’s camps. In their eyes, Modi remains the greatest threat to democracy even as they broadcast their outrage freely, without fear of censorship or reprisal. ‘Operation Sindoor’ was a statement of cultural self-confidence. That confidence has rattled those who have spent their careers gatekeeping Indian discourse. Today, their monopoly is over. The people are watching and they no longer believe that the emperor has clothes.

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