No ceasefire with Maoists says Nepalese PM
December 2001
The Times of India
Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba has ruled out the possibility of a ceasefire with the Maoists saying they would have to surrender their arms first.
In an interview with the Times of India here on Monday, Deuba also ruled out the use of Indian troops in any operations against the Maoists saying the Nepalese army would be able to deal with the Maoists.
The PM hinted at measures to heighten security in the Kathmandu valley. He also suggested that the government would be taking simultaneous steps to address issues of governance and said it was thinking of bringing an ordinance against corruption soon.
Deuba welcomed Indian support but ruled out the use of Indian troops saying our army is one of the splendid armies in the world. We are quite capable to deal with terrorist challenges. Therefore, we dont need any foreign troops to come here.
India and Nepal were discussing border management issues including cross border terrorism. Were trying to evolve some sort of understanding between the security agencies of both sides.
Refusing to discuss any operational details the PM said since the terrain was a difficult one the government did not have any correct information regarding the ground fighting. He, however, claimed the situation was improving and said the army would provide accurate assessments of casualties and operations soon. He ruled out the possibility of a ceasefire on the part of the security forces if the Maoists stopped their operations. He said, They will do the same thing again.
Deuba defended his decision to call for talks saying that events had proved him right since the Maoists had been exposed by their decision to break off talks.
June 22, 2006
The day three militants hitch-hiked with me
The day three militants hitch-hiked with me
February 2001
Times of India
Travel through Kashmir Valley and the impression is that of a state under siege. Army camps, checkposts, convoys with mounted guns, BSF patrols, J-K police jeeps with bayonets pointing at you through wire mesh and frequent checks and searches. Fresh graves, roads pitted by grenade attacks, water pumps in derelict condition, burnt down transformers. Walk into villages and it is injuries and deaths and
above all, fear. What is not visible is the shadowy presence of militants, made real only through their
deaths and civilian killings. Staying on the higher reaches of the mountains, or melting into villages, it is not often that one crosses them, unless one organises a meeting. Perhaps it was the ceasefire that eased their movements, bringing down a group of Hizbul militants onto the main road running through Kupwara district; and that’s where I met them last week.
I was returning to Srinagar when a group of men on the road stopped us to say someone had been injured. Even though I avoid giving lifts to locals it curtails movement I felt it would be inhuman not to stop. I stub out the surreptitious cigarette I have been smoking while they clamber in and we move on. Three, including the injured man, are in the vehicle. I don’t really look at them because I am squeamish about blood, but talk over my shoulder. It is a bullet injury on the leg his revolver went off inadvertently. In the meanwhile, my cigarette, buried hastily into my kangri, starts to burn. I am worried about this breach in decorum while travelling in the Valley. Having tackled this mishap, I think it is a good time to talk to some more villagers (the utilise every opportunity syndrome we journalists suffer from while outstation).
Are they from here? What is the situation like? Their clipped responses so unlike the garrulous Kashmiris do not discomfit me. “Is the situation so bad that all of you keep guns?” I persist. “No, only some of us.” It is only then (so late that I was later embarrassed to admit it) that something penetrates. “Are you with some tanzeem (militant group)?” “Yes.” “Which one?” “HM” (Hizbul Mujahideen).
Bizarre. That is all I can think as we move on the snow is falling and I am travelling with three gunmen in the back seat. Obviously, they have nothing on their minds but their injured companion who is
groaning. I wonder how wise it is to question them, but the reporter in me gets the better of my caution. They are locals, they say, like most in their unit. One of them joined three years ago after graduation.
Yes, he tried getting a job. No, he never visits his family who are being harassed by the security forces. The training was in Pakistan and arms are supplied from there. The ceasefire has eased things. They stay in villages.
Their own actions have decreased. Will the talks help? Of course not, only the gun. The situation is so strange that fear seems implausible. I wonder how the ride will end. Will they turn hostile? “Would you have forced us at gun point if we had not stopped?” “No, of course not.”
Another thought crosses my mind what if we are intercepted by security forces and they open fire? What will happen if I ask them to get off the vehicle right now? If news of this leaks out, will I ever be able to work here again? Nothing of this kind happens. Even my “interview” is tame with my passengers uncommunicative. They don’t seem to understand that I am a journalist and they are part of my ‘investigation’!! They reach a point, ask us to stop and melt away. Not even a warning not to talk! We
continue our journey towards Srinagar.
February 2001
Times of India
Travel through Kashmir Valley and the impression is that of a state under siege. Army camps, checkposts, convoys with mounted guns, BSF patrols, J-K police jeeps with bayonets pointing at you through wire mesh and frequent checks and searches. Fresh graves, roads pitted by grenade attacks, water pumps in derelict condition, burnt down transformers. Walk into villages and it is injuries and deaths and
above all, fear. What is not visible is the shadowy presence of militants, made real only through their
deaths and civilian killings. Staying on the higher reaches of the mountains, or melting into villages, it is not often that one crosses them, unless one organises a meeting. Perhaps it was the ceasefire that eased their movements, bringing down a group of Hizbul militants onto the main road running through Kupwara district; and that’s where I met them last week.
I was returning to Srinagar when a group of men on the road stopped us to say someone had been injured. Even though I avoid giving lifts to locals it curtails movement I felt it would be inhuman not to stop. I stub out the surreptitious cigarette I have been smoking while they clamber in and we move on. Three, including the injured man, are in the vehicle. I don’t really look at them because I am squeamish about blood, but talk over my shoulder. It is a bullet injury on the leg his revolver went off inadvertently. In the meanwhile, my cigarette, buried hastily into my kangri, starts to burn. I am worried about this breach in decorum while travelling in the Valley. Having tackled this mishap, I think it is a good time to talk to some more villagers (the utilise every opportunity syndrome we journalists suffer from while outstation).
Are they from here? What is the situation like? Their clipped responses so unlike the garrulous Kashmiris do not discomfit me. “Is the situation so bad that all of you keep guns?” I persist. “No, only some of us.” It is only then (so late that I was later embarrassed to admit it) that something penetrates. “Are you with some tanzeem (militant group)?” “Yes.” “Which one?” “HM” (Hizbul Mujahideen).
Bizarre. That is all I can think as we move on the snow is falling and I am travelling with three gunmen in the back seat. Obviously, they have nothing on their minds but their injured companion who is
groaning. I wonder how wise it is to question them, but the reporter in me gets the better of my caution. They are locals, they say, like most in their unit. One of them joined three years ago after graduation.
Yes, he tried getting a job. No, he never visits his family who are being harassed by the security forces. The training was in Pakistan and arms are supplied from there. The ceasefire has eased things. They stay in villages.
Their own actions have decreased. Will the talks help? Of course not, only the gun. The situation is so strange that fear seems implausible. I wonder how the ride will end. Will they turn hostile? “Would you have forced us at gun point if we had not stopped?” “No, of course not.”
Another thought crosses my mind what if we are intercepted by security forces and they open fire? What will happen if I ask them to get off the vehicle right now? If news of this leaks out, will I ever be able to work here again? Nothing of this kind happens. Even my “interview” is tame with my passengers uncommunicative. They don’t seem to understand that I am a journalist and they are part of my ‘investigation’!! They reach a point, ask us to stop and melt away. Not even a warning not to talk! We
continue our journey towards Srinagar.
Post-truce, killings draw villagers' ire
Post-truce, killings draw villagers' ire
February 2001
Times of India
In September 1999, Abdul Ahmed Ganai, the halka’ president of the National Conference from Sonpa village, was telling me of his uphill battle - convincing people of the need to vote for his party. A year and a half later I am talking to his son about his father who has become a household name - one of the four persons killed by militants a fortnight ago in this area in an unprecedented spurt in carnage after the ceasefire.
Ganai was killed after he refused to heed militants’ threats and dissociate himself from the National Conference. Instead, the past one year he was trying to get developmental works sanctioned for his village which now boasts of a bund, a shop, a panchayat hall, a passenger bus stand and a wall for the park.
Though it was a village resident who led Ganai to the militants on some pretext, no one has dared to protest. His son, 20-year-old Fayyaz Ahmed Ganai, will now have to leave his studies to support his mother and three younger siblings. He has no idea what to do, but hopes the local NC MLA (who villagers say never shows his face in the area) will help.
At least 40-50 militantas are active in this belt, says a security official. Many of them are recycled” militants - former militants who have found surrender doesn’t pay. Either they are harassed by the security forces for their past links, or they are targetted by militants for having surrendered. When they are not, they are still unfit to hold a job. Even if they manage to get one, they are required to report frequently at the security camps, making it impossible for them to keep a job.”
If fear of militants has grown, so has anger at the harassment and atrocities by the security forces. Though human rights violations have fallen, each aberration is amplified in the context of ceasefire. When the ceasefire was announced, people expected all violence against them to cease. That has not happenned. Therefore, they are more angry than ever before.”
An incident in a neighbouring village or one three miles away raises tempers, shaping public opinion. The farther from the main road, the less the effect of the ceasefire,” says an official. The special operations group of the JK police - or the STF as it is known - is the most hated of the security agencies and continues to be the most active even during the ceasefire. Near Utli village, Lal Mohammad Gujri, a surrendered militant, was brutally beaten by the STF a few days ago. In Beerwah town, Wani has just ecaped from a cat’ (a civilian working with the security forces as a spotter) after he was kidnapped over a property dispute.
In Paramohalla in Pattan, the family of Javed (name changed) has just returned home. Three hours earlier a BSF patrol on the road was fired on, injuring one jawan. In retaliation, the BSF, suspecting the fire was from Javed’s house, opened fire on it. His bedroom floor is littered with bullets and his car severely damaged. One villager was beaten up. Though the villagers have got off lightly, they are still furious, questioning the efficacy of the ceasefire.
”Yes, the situation has eased somewhat but people continue getting killed,” says a senior official of South Kashmir, exlaining why there is no change in the hostility towards the government. Even when people are not with the militants, they continue to be against the GOI.”
February 2001
Times of India
In September 1999, Abdul Ahmed Ganai, the halka’ president of the National Conference from Sonpa village, was telling me of his uphill battle - convincing people of the need to vote for his party. A year and a half later I am talking to his son about his father who has become a household name - one of the four persons killed by militants a fortnight ago in this area in an unprecedented spurt in carnage after the ceasefire.
Ganai was killed after he refused to heed militants’ threats and dissociate himself from the National Conference. Instead, the past one year he was trying to get developmental works sanctioned for his village which now boasts of a bund, a shop, a panchayat hall, a passenger bus stand and a wall for the park.
Though it was a village resident who led Ganai to the militants on some pretext, no one has dared to protest. His son, 20-year-old Fayyaz Ahmed Ganai, will now have to leave his studies to support his mother and three younger siblings. He has no idea what to do, but hopes the local NC MLA (who villagers say never shows his face in the area) will help.
At least 40-50 militantas are active in this belt, says a security official. Many of them are recycled” militants - former militants who have found surrender doesn’t pay. Either they are harassed by the security forces for their past links, or they are targetted by militants for having surrendered. When they are not, they are still unfit to hold a job. Even if they manage to get one, they are required to report frequently at the security camps, making it impossible for them to keep a job.”
If fear of militants has grown, so has anger at the harassment and atrocities by the security forces. Though human rights violations have fallen, each aberration is amplified in the context of ceasefire. When the ceasefire was announced, people expected all violence against them to cease. That has not happenned. Therefore, they are more angry than ever before.”
An incident in a neighbouring village or one three miles away raises tempers, shaping public opinion. The farther from the main road, the less the effect of the ceasefire,” says an official. The special operations group of the JK police - or the STF as it is known - is the most hated of the security agencies and continues to be the most active even during the ceasefire. Near Utli village, Lal Mohammad Gujri, a surrendered militant, was brutally beaten by the STF a few days ago. In Beerwah town, Wani has just ecaped from a cat’ (a civilian working with the security forces as a spotter) after he was kidnapped over a property dispute.
In Paramohalla in Pattan, the family of Javed (name changed) has just returned home. Three hours earlier a BSF patrol on the road was fired on, injuring one jawan. In retaliation, the BSF, suspecting the fire was from Javed’s house, opened fire on it. His bedroom floor is littered with bullets and his car severely damaged. One villager was beaten up. Though the villagers have got off lightly, they are still furious, questioning the efficacy of the ceasefire.
”Yes, the situation has eased somewhat but people continue getting killed,” says a senior official of South Kashmir, exlaining why there is no change in the hostility towards the government. Even when people are not with the militants, they continue to be against the GOI.”
Man for all reasons confuses diplomatic observers
Man for all reasons confuses diplomatic observers
March 2000
The Statesman
What’s the US policy on Kashmir? Mr Clinton’s speeches have created confusion about whether he has moved closer to the Indian position or intruded into Indian space by according the USA a role in the region - and calling repeatedly for a resumption of dialogue.
While the basic tenets of US policy on the need for India and Pakistan to solve the Kashmir issue, taking into account the wishes of the Kashmiri people remains unchanged, Mr Clinton’s visit has also thrown up a number of nuanced approaches that have fleshed out this basic position.
Diplomatic observers are reserving their judgment until the completion of the trip to South Asia, with Mr Clinton’s coming comments in Islamabad being seen as the defining moment in spelling. out the US policy. But analysts point to the doublespeak that has given the USA a broad range of options for the future.
The disparate comments over the past three days have contained the four steps outlined by President Clinton for the region, including respect for the LoC, a halt to violence, restraint and resumption of dialogue, mention of support of elements in the Pakistan government for perpetrating violence in Kashmir and a call to the Indian government to address the concerns of Kashmiris.
The package, in fact, has had something for everyone, the essential pre-requisite of the successful intermediary, to be seen as a friend of every party. The position taken by Mr Clinton has contained elements that can be owned by disparate groups and has had both the Indian government and the All-Party Hurriyat Conference claiming that his comments have been favourable to their positions on Kashmir.
As far as the Indian government is concerned, it has taken succour from the fact that Mr Clinton has called for a respect for the LoC, which cuts both ways as the President pointed out it was important that “both sides” respected it. Another comment that was music to Indian ears was his comment on the involvement of elements of the Pakistani government in support for those engaged in violence in Kashmir as also his statement that Pakistan needed to have a non-violent plan for resolving its differences with India.
The Hurriyat, however, feels Mr Clinton’s comments have focussed attention on the need for negotiations on the Kashmir issue with the involvement of Kashmiris, which reflects their position.
Describing President Clinton’s address to Parliament as a positive signal, the Hurriyat spokesman told The Statesman that the speech was a clear cut signal which had also spelt out the U S offer of support.
Refuting the claims of the government that President Clinton’s call to end violence was a cognisance of its position, the Hurriyat says state violence and the violation of rights was the biggest form of violence in the state.
India and Pakistan, the Hurriyat says, must use this opportunity to begin a dialogue since they would have to begin talking “if not today, at least six months later.”
That the US still sees for itself a role in the issue is borne out by the fact that Mr Clinton has already expressed hope that his trip here had a beneficial impact on what he has described as a difficult situation and also that the Indo-US relationship, over time, would take the two countries in a different direction.
He has also enunciated clearly that the US has an interest in trying to avert a larger conflict and trying to reduce tensions between the two countries.
The American interest in the region is nowhere spelt out as succinctly as in the vision statement between India and the USA which states that both countries would engage in regular consultations to work together and with others for “strategic stability in Asia and beyond”. It also says they would bolster joint efforts to counter terrorism and “meet other challenges to regional peace.”
Where India can take heart is in the US President’s complete rejection of violence as a means of approaching the Kashmir issue. In fact, Mr Clinton said one of the reasons why the U S would not get involved was because he did not want it to get dragged into the situation because of deliberate acts of violence.
March 2000
The Statesman
What’s the US policy on Kashmir? Mr Clinton’s speeches have created confusion about whether he has moved closer to the Indian position or intruded into Indian space by according the USA a role in the region - and calling repeatedly for a resumption of dialogue.
While the basic tenets of US policy on the need for India and Pakistan to solve the Kashmir issue, taking into account the wishes of the Kashmiri people remains unchanged, Mr Clinton’s visit has also thrown up a number of nuanced approaches that have fleshed out this basic position.
Diplomatic observers are reserving their judgment until the completion of the trip to South Asia, with Mr Clinton’s coming comments in Islamabad being seen as the defining moment in spelling. out the US policy. But analysts point to the doublespeak that has given the USA a broad range of options for the future.
The disparate comments over the past three days have contained the four steps outlined by President Clinton for the region, including respect for the LoC, a halt to violence, restraint and resumption of dialogue, mention of support of elements in the Pakistan government for perpetrating violence in Kashmir and a call to the Indian government to address the concerns of Kashmiris.
The package, in fact, has had something for everyone, the essential pre-requisite of the successful intermediary, to be seen as a friend of every party. The position taken by Mr Clinton has contained elements that can be owned by disparate groups and has had both the Indian government and the All-Party Hurriyat Conference claiming that his comments have been favourable to their positions on Kashmir.
As far as the Indian government is concerned, it has taken succour from the fact that Mr Clinton has called for a respect for the LoC, which cuts both ways as the President pointed out it was important that “both sides” respected it. Another comment that was music to Indian ears was his comment on the involvement of elements of the Pakistani government in support for those engaged in violence in Kashmir as also his statement that Pakistan needed to have a non-violent plan for resolving its differences with India.
The Hurriyat, however, feels Mr Clinton’s comments have focussed attention on the need for negotiations on the Kashmir issue with the involvement of Kashmiris, which reflects their position.
Describing President Clinton’s address to Parliament as a positive signal, the Hurriyat spokesman told The Statesman that the speech was a clear cut signal which had also spelt out the U S offer of support.
Refuting the claims of the government that President Clinton’s call to end violence was a cognisance of its position, the Hurriyat says state violence and the violation of rights was the biggest form of violence in the state.
India and Pakistan, the Hurriyat says, must use this opportunity to begin a dialogue since they would have to begin talking “if not today, at least six months later.”
That the US still sees for itself a role in the issue is borne out by the fact that Mr Clinton has already expressed hope that his trip here had a beneficial impact on what he has described as a difficult situation and also that the Indo-US relationship, over time, would take the two countries in a different direction.
He has also enunciated clearly that the US has an interest in trying to avert a larger conflict and trying to reduce tensions between the two countries.
The American interest in the region is nowhere spelt out as succinctly as in the vision statement between India and the USA which states that both countries would engage in regular consultations to work together and with others for “strategic stability in Asia and beyond”. It also says they would bolster joint efforts to counter terrorism and “meet other challenges to regional peace.”
Where India can take heart is in the US President’s complete rejection of violence as a means of approaching the Kashmir issue. In fact, Mr Clinton said one of the reasons why the U S would not get involved was because he did not want it to get dragged into the situation because of deliberate acts of violence.
Guns not government, call the shots in Kashmir Villages
Guns not government, call the shots in Kashmir Villages
September 1999
The Statesman
Chaknatnussa. There is no Army camp here. Not even a po-lice post, though the village is the site of the fiercest attack on the Army in the Kashmir Valley since Operation Vijay. The 4 Rashtriya Rifles camp was stormed by militants on 5 August. In the ensuing encounter, five soldiers, in-cluding an officer, six foreign militants and a civilian—a class-XII boy—were killed.
The villagers fled. Those who stayed say they were beaten by the Army the next day. The broken windows and household goods bear testimony to wrath. The villagers say the local police helped and prevented the Army from unleashing their rage any further. But the civil administration refused, telling them not to go home. “Why couldn’t they come? Don’t we matter?” asked the villagers who returned home only after the Army unit moved away to a safer location. The vil-lagers blame the Army for “allowing” the militants across the border. “They don’t do anything and then blame us.”
People in Chaknatnussa say their sympathies are with the militants. “They are Mujahideen fighting our war. We will support them.” But the pro-militant speech is a little too glib for conviction, perhaps addressed at someone in the crowd, a militant. Local policemen claim they camp in the village even by day since the Army camp was removed. Chaknatnussa is far removed from the reality of elections on 18 September. So is Kandi, a nearby village.
The resentment in Kandi is about the occupation of the village school by the Army unit recently. Though the Army earlier occupied a part of the building, it has now taken over the entire area which is out of bounds to civilians for secu-rity reasons. Exams have been postponed. Villagers are not allowed to move after 7 p.m. or to light lamps which the Army deems dangerous. About 20 boys from this village have gone across the border in the last 2-3 months.
So have about 20-25 boys from Vilgam, part of the rough official estimate of around 250 local youths who went over the border in the first phase of the Kar-gil operations. Nazir Ahmed Wani of Vilgam has been killed by militants. So was Sardar Khan of Maidan Chogul last week. He was the National Conference block president and villagers believe he paid the price for hosting the NC MLA and minister for forests, Chaudhary Ramzan, at his house two days before his death.
Villagers of Poru Wattayah complain that they are being forced into patrol-ling duties by the security forces. The idea is apparently to force villagers to prevent militants from entering. “We have only lathis with us. If we encounter militants what do you think we do? We choose the safest option.”
Choosing what appeared to be the safest option did not help Rasheed Gani, a local who has been an active member of the Hizbul Mujahideen. He disappeared one month after surrendering to the local unit of the Rashtriya Rifles.
The dividends of peace are too slow, too remote and too negligible for people to identify with. The benefits do not trickle down to them. The National Confer-ence, says a villager, has just appointed four relatives of the ruling party ac-tivists in Bandipora, ignoring merit.
It is difficult to convince voters of the empowerment of electoral democracy here as it is in Bandipora, which is also identified as one of the areas se-verely affected by militancy. “For the two minutes that you use to cast your vote, you are above your leader. Exercise that power,” says Muzaffar Beig, the People’s Democratic Party candidate from Baramulla, at an election meeting in Bandipora market. But Beig’s speech is all about fear and asking the electorate to take courage to participate. He accuses the ruling party of trying to dis-courage electoral activity by creating fear and suspicion. “A boycott will only help the NC. Guns will not solve your problems. Vote to change your fortunes.
But, the rally is thinly attended. A small crowd listens warily from the dis-tance. Stones skitter across the market place. Close by a car window smashes. Desultory policemen move around, apparently disinterested in stopping the trou-ble. The crowd begins to melt away.
If Beig has with him former militants, Imran Rahi and Bilal Lodhi, the NC is using the services of a former militant turned counter-insurgent turned politi-cian who still operates in the area with his group pf 190 gun-totting counter-insurgents, hated by the locals. The Ikhwan (renegades) are only one of the fears. “We live under the fear of four guns,” says Irfan of Ajaas village—the Army, the Ikhwan, the militants and the police. “How can you even ask us about elections? What do they mean to us?”
Ajaas lies on the Srinagar-Bandipora road, forbidden to Army vehicles because it is pitted with craters. An easy place for planting mines. Villagers here have to travel to Srinagar via the much longer Sopore Road. The crops have failed be-cause of the lack of water. The electric grid station was burnt down. A few days ago Mohammed Ashraf of Safapora was killed in Krishu. “An encounter with mili-tant” is how officialdom described it. “Not so,” say residents. “He was a civil-ian”. Increased militant activities in this belt has meant more crackdowns, beatings at the hands of the armed forces, an occasional death.
Ajaas is a week away from elections, or several eons, depending on how you look at it. “Politicians don’t come here to campaign,” says Ashrar, “they are too scared.” The National Conference insists there will be high voter turnout in this area. If there is, it won’t be because of the voters engagement with the remote exercise of parliamentary
Elections.
September 1999
The Statesman
Chaknatnussa. There is no Army camp here. Not even a po-lice post, though the village is the site of the fiercest attack on the Army in the Kashmir Valley since Operation Vijay. The 4 Rashtriya Rifles camp was stormed by militants on 5 August. In the ensuing encounter, five soldiers, in-cluding an officer, six foreign militants and a civilian—a class-XII boy—were killed.
The villagers fled. Those who stayed say they were beaten by the Army the next day. The broken windows and household goods bear testimony to wrath. The villagers say the local police helped and prevented the Army from unleashing their rage any further. But the civil administration refused, telling them not to go home. “Why couldn’t they come? Don’t we matter?” asked the villagers who returned home only after the Army unit moved away to a safer location. The vil-lagers blame the Army for “allowing” the militants across the border. “They don’t do anything and then blame us.”
People in Chaknatnussa say their sympathies are with the militants. “They are Mujahideen fighting our war. We will support them.” But the pro-militant speech is a little too glib for conviction, perhaps addressed at someone in the crowd, a militant. Local policemen claim they camp in the village even by day since the Army camp was removed. Chaknatnussa is far removed from the reality of elections on 18 September. So is Kandi, a nearby village.
The resentment in Kandi is about the occupation of the village school by the Army unit recently. Though the Army earlier occupied a part of the building, it has now taken over the entire area which is out of bounds to civilians for secu-rity reasons. Exams have been postponed. Villagers are not allowed to move after 7 p.m. or to light lamps which the Army deems dangerous. About 20 boys from this village have gone across the border in the last 2-3 months.
So have about 20-25 boys from Vilgam, part of the rough official estimate of around 250 local youths who went over the border in the first phase of the Kar-gil operations. Nazir Ahmed Wani of Vilgam has been killed by militants. So was Sardar Khan of Maidan Chogul last week. He was the National Conference block president and villagers believe he paid the price for hosting the NC MLA and minister for forests, Chaudhary Ramzan, at his house two days before his death.
Villagers of Poru Wattayah complain that they are being forced into patrol-ling duties by the security forces. The idea is apparently to force villagers to prevent militants from entering. “We have only lathis with us. If we encounter militants what do you think we do? We choose the safest option.”
Choosing what appeared to be the safest option did not help Rasheed Gani, a local who has been an active member of the Hizbul Mujahideen. He disappeared one month after surrendering to the local unit of the Rashtriya Rifles.
The dividends of peace are too slow, too remote and too negligible for people to identify with. The benefits do not trickle down to them. The National Confer-ence, says a villager, has just appointed four relatives of the ruling party ac-tivists in Bandipora, ignoring merit.
It is difficult to convince voters of the empowerment of electoral democracy here as it is in Bandipora, which is also identified as one of the areas se-verely affected by militancy. “For the two minutes that you use to cast your vote, you are above your leader. Exercise that power,” says Muzaffar Beig, the People’s Democratic Party candidate from Baramulla, at an election meeting in Bandipora market. But Beig’s speech is all about fear and asking the electorate to take courage to participate. He accuses the ruling party of trying to dis-courage electoral activity by creating fear and suspicion. “A boycott will only help the NC. Guns will not solve your problems. Vote to change your fortunes.
But, the rally is thinly attended. A small crowd listens warily from the dis-tance. Stones skitter across the market place. Close by a car window smashes. Desultory policemen move around, apparently disinterested in stopping the trou-ble. The crowd begins to melt away.
If Beig has with him former militants, Imran Rahi and Bilal Lodhi, the NC is using the services of a former militant turned counter-insurgent turned politi-cian who still operates in the area with his group pf 190 gun-totting counter-insurgents, hated by the locals. The Ikhwan (renegades) are only one of the fears. “We live under the fear of four guns,” says Irfan of Ajaas village—the Army, the Ikhwan, the militants and the police. “How can you even ask us about elections? What do they mean to us?”
Ajaas lies on the Srinagar-Bandipora road, forbidden to Army vehicles because it is pitted with craters. An easy place for planting mines. Villagers here have to travel to Srinagar via the much longer Sopore Road. The crops have failed be-cause of the lack of water. The electric grid station was burnt down. A few days ago Mohammed Ashraf of Safapora was killed in Krishu. “An encounter with mili-tant” is how officialdom described it. “Not so,” say residents. “He was a civil-ian”. Increased militant activities in this belt has meant more crackdowns, beatings at the hands of the armed forces, an occasional death.
Ajaas is a week away from elections, or several eons, depending on how you look at it. “Politicians don’t come here to campaign,” says Ashrar, “they are too scared.” The National Conference insists there will be high voter turnout in this area. If there is, it won’t be because of the voters engagement with the remote exercise of parliamentary
Elections.
Uneasy in Kargil with Shells and Fear for Company
Uneasy in Kargil with Shells and Fear for Company
August 1999
The Statesman
“Victory may have been declared in Delhi but our war is not yet over,” says Habibullah, a National Conference supporter in Kargil town. “It is true the infiltrators have gone, but the shelling continues”.
A second campaigner chips in: “As far as our problem is concerned, it remains the same, except that both the frequency and accuracy of the shelling are much higher this year.”
”The only thing we want is the silence of the guns. India and Pakistan should do whatever it takes to put an end to this, by talking or anything else. How can we talk of the Army’s glorious victory here? True, they performed after the war began. But don’t the locals here know better than anyone else about the lapses earlier? Don’t they know how the Army was treating informants? Three people who had given information to the Army last year about infiltration were locked up. It was only when a senior officer was approached that they set up a post”.
If Operation Vijay is not a selling point for the NC, nor can it be one for the Congress. The party may have cashed in on people’s problems arising out of the “negligence of the Army,” but no one dares talk about it.
”The Army is too close here. If we start criticising their lapses they are likely to get angry,” said a Congress supporter bluntly, explaining why he cannot pick up his party president’s electoral gambit.
The overwhelming presence of the Army in this area tells two tales—as much of a war fought
and won as of one that has not begun yet. Heaps of used Bofors shells are strewn along the national highway, marking out old gun positions. New ones are being dug nearby, fresh equipment brought in everyday. Tents dot the landscape and convoys dominate the road, racing against time to beat the winter.
The presence of the Army has its flip side. In some places, houses deserted by people fleeing shells have been occupied. In others, the Army stands cheek by jowl with homes, bringing new fears.
There is fear the troops’ very presence might bring new volleys of shells. “Sankoo was a safe haven for the past three years for those driven from their homes by shelling. Now with the Army, the villagers are not so sure of their safety,” said a minister.
The new pattern of co-existence is still uneasy, and irritants have to be sorted out. “Initially, they were dragging people off roads and making them do the work of porters. Professors, headmasters, no one was spared. We had to intervene. Now we have asked the Army to secure the permission of the village lambardar—the elders—before taking anyone,” said the minister.
It is still too early to tell how Army presence will impact on the district.
The war is still too fresh in memory for anyone to reflect on it. The memorials are to soldiers who have died in other wars, at other times.
Captain Morh, where soldiers get off vehicles to salute, is a memorial to a Captain of the Engineers who died in 1954 while widening the road down which soldiers marched this May. It is still to early for memorials to be built for those who did not make the return journey.
Shelling this year has opened up new danger zones. Drass, which had never seen shelling, bore the brunt. It is barely three days since people have begun returning, but the district administration is braced for a possible renewed spell around polling day.
”We haven’t organised any election meetings here. People are too disturbed to listen to speeches. Those who have returned are preoccupied with repairing damaged homes, taking stock of their land and livestock,” said Ali, an NC office-bearer. His own shop in Drass’s main bazar is getting fresh window panes for the ones it lost to the shells.
If Drass is disinterested, Kargil town is too unsafe for meetings, said an NC worker. Shells could land close anytime. Muffled thuds in the evening tell of renewed assaults somewhere close by.
Come 5 September though, the people will vote. Even displaced residents show enthusiasm. Basheer, living with relatives in Minji since May, is one of them.
Basheer will cast his vote for the National Conference at his relocated polling booth. “The NC candidate is from Kargil this time. If we vote for him, Kargil will finally have a representative, a presence. Tell me, had you heard of Kargil before the war? That is why I must vote. The name should not be forgotten again”.
August 1999
The Statesman
“Victory may have been declared in Delhi but our war is not yet over,” says Habibullah, a National Conference supporter in Kargil town. “It is true the infiltrators have gone, but the shelling continues”.
A second campaigner chips in: “As far as our problem is concerned, it remains the same, except that both the frequency and accuracy of the shelling are much higher this year.”
”The only thing we want is the silence of the guns. India and Pakistan should do whatever it takes to put an end to this, by talking or anything else. How can we talk of the Army’s glorious victory here? True, they performed after the war began. But don’t the locals here know better than anyone else about the lapses earlier? Don’t they know how the Army was treating informants? Three people who had given information to the Army last year about infiltration were locked up. It was only when a senior officer was approached that they set up a post”.
If Operation Vijay is not a selling point for the NC, nor can it be one for the Congress. The party may have cashed in on people’s problems arising out of the “negligence of the Army,” but no one dares talk about it.
”The Army is too close here. If we start criticising their lapses they are likely to get angry,” said a Congress supporter bluntly, explaining why he cannot pick up his party president’s electoral gambit.
The overwhelming presence of the Army in this area tells two tales—as much of a war fought
and won as of one that has not begun yet. Heaps of used Bofors shells are strewn along the national highway, marking out old gun positions. New ones are being dug nearby, fresh equipment brought in everyday. Tents dot the landscape and convoys dominate the road, racing against time to beat the winter.
The presence of the Army has its flip side. In some places, houses deserted by people fleeing shells have been occupied. In others, the Army stands cheek by jowl with homes, bringing new fears.
There is fear the troops’ very presence might bring new volleys of shells. “Sankoo was a safe haven for the past three years for those driven from their homes by shelling. Now with the Army, the villagers are not so sure of their safety,” said a minister.
The new pattern of co-existence is still uneasy, and irritants have to be sorted out. “Initially, they were dragging people off roads and making them do the work of porters. Professors, headmasters, no one was spared. We had to intervene. Now we have asked the Army to secure the permission of the village lambardar—the elders—before taking anyone,” said the minister.
It is still too early to tell how Army presence will impact on the district.
The war is still too fresh in memory for anyone to reflect on it. The memorials are to soldiers who have died in other wars, at other times.
Captain Morh, where soldiers get off vehicles to salute, is a memorial to a Captain of the Engineers who died in 1954 while widening the road down which soldiers marched this May. It is still to early for memorials to be built for those who did not make the return journey.
Shelling this year has opened up new danger zones. Drass, which had never seen shelling, bore the brunt. It is barely three days since people have begun returning, but the district administration is braced for a possible renewed spell around polling day.
”We haven’t organised any election meetings here. People are too disturbed to listen to speeches. Those who have returned are preoccupied with repairing damaged homes, taking stock of their land and livestock,” said Ali, an NC office-bearer. His own shop in Drass’s main bazar is getting fresh window panes for the ones it lost to the shells.
If Drass is disinterested, Kargil town is too unsafe for meetings, said an NC worker. Shells could land close anytime. Muffled thuds in the evening tell of renewed assaults somewhere close by.
Come 5 September though, the people will vote. Even displaced residents show enthusiasm. Basheer, living with relatives in Minji since May, is one of them.
Basheer will cast his vote for the National Conference at his relocated polling booth. “The NC candidate is from Kargil this time. If we vote for him, Kargil will finally have a representative, a presence. Tell me, had you heard of Kargil before the war? That is why I must vote. The name should not be forgotten again”.
Kashmiri People Tired of Militancy, Disenchanted with The State
Kashmiri People Tired of Militancy, Disenchanted with The State
December 1998
The Statesman
SRINAGAR: An elected government. Denial of support to militants. Decreasing involvement of locals with any form of militancy. Increasing control by security forces - changes which ought to have had for-reaching consequences for people, but have not.
Despite the vast changes in the nature of insurgency in the Kashmir valley, disenchantment with the State remains a pre-dominant sentiment that shows no signs of receding. While the collapse of delivery systems is not specific to the state of Jammu and Kashmir, what is specific to it is the impact of this failure. Disenchantment with the process of governance is not merely an anti- incumbency factor here but is also an anti-India sentiment.
What worries observers is the fact that the disenchantment has now spread to include even the pro-India element. “People are no longer involved with militants directly. They merely want peace.
But the hatred of India has increased. Nationalist forces are also feeling alienated now. Those who made peace with the establishment in the hope of some change feel there is not much pointing remaining committed to a peace process which yields nothing.” “Sukuun” is the most common word offered by people to describe their hopes. While the literal translation of this word is “peace,” it also encompasses the hope of a more tranquil and better life. “Sukuun”, however, seems to be a far cry still and at this crucial turning point in the situation, the government is rapidly running out of time, unable to make the difference that matters.
Village Gulgam is Kupwara is a case in point. For residents in this town in the border district, the army remains the most real face of the Indian state till today and disenchantment with the administration is the predominant sentiment.
The tale of Habibullah exemplifies the situation. A National Conference worker, Habibullah is now the butt of good-humoured chaffing by other villagers as his dreams of good governance turns sour day by day. Having poured in his efforts into campaigning for the National Conference, he is now in the unenviable situation of having nothing to show for it and has turned it fiercest critic.
The only face of the government Habibullah encounters on a daily basis is that of the security forces stationed in the vicinity. Habibullah has spent the previous night in the army camp nearby and has bruises to show for it.
Gulgam, identified earlier as a pro-militant village, saw nearly 100 young men joining the ranks of terrorists. Today the gradual process of disengagement of overt support of militancy is nearly complete. Talk of the past struggle for separatism is met with silence and the village claims it is “clear” of any militants.
The nearby village of Kunnan Poshpora has yielded what the army considers good dividends. The village, which was fiercely anti-India earlier, was responsible for handing over two militants in September this year, says the army. A local army officer, barking our commands on the phone, tells his junior “remember, good conduct yields good information”. A far cry from even a year ago when every resident was a suspect.
The process of bringing about normalcy has, however, not helped the villagers obtain a share of the benefits of development. The High School of Gulgam, burnt down in 1989, is yet to be reconstructed and the MLA does not visit, say villagers. “Only those who salaam him get some help. The tube wells sanctioned for this village are in the courtyards of his supporters.”
Habibullah is not the only one with a recent brush with the security forces. “Yesterday, there was a raid by the BSF battalion stationed nearby and around 50 households were searched on the basis of misleading information”. The women of the village were also recently beaten up by the security forces for wandering in the forest. The army claimed they were going there ton feed the militants while the villagers claim they were collecting firewood since the village is devoid of power for five of the seven days in the week.
“The terror of the army still exists” says Rafiq. It is true that their actions are not as severe as they were in the past. But a dog which bites once will always be feared.”
Agreeing with this sentiment, an army officer says bluntly “people do not like the army”. He also feels that disenchantment with militancy has not seen a commensurate decrease in alienation from India.
The story of disenchantment is the same in other villages across the valley. In Nusu in Bandipora, the complaints run through a similar refrain. No jobs. The road hardly exists except for a patch of rubble and there is no power. Instances of harassment by security forces are less severe but still a predominant cause of anger. While one villager complaints that the renegade militants are supported by the police, another refers to a recent instance of highhandedness by the army. “When the National Conference came to power, there was some hope. People thought there would be someone to listen to their woes. All that has completely been belied. With a few exceptions all are busy lining their own coffers” says a senior officer.
Control over the security situation is the benefit being reaped by the government as a result of the people’s fatigue with militancy. This fatigue, however, could soon turn into a fatigue of peace that does not deliver, that does not provide development, security or freedom from harassment. Once that takes place, what will happen is anybody’s guess.
December 1998
The Statesman
SRINAGAR: An elected government. Denial of support to militants. Decreasing involvement of locals with any form of militancy. Increasing control by security forces - changes which ought to have had for-reaching consequences for people, but have not.
Despite the vast changes in the nature of insurgency in the Kashmir valley, disenchantment with the State remains a pre-dominant sentiment that shows no signs of receding. While the collapse of delivery systems is not specific to the state of Jammu and Kashmir, what is specific to it is the impact of this failure. Disenchantment with the process of governance is not merely an anti- incumbency factor here but is also an anti-India sentiment.
What worries observers is the fact that the disenchantment has now spread to include even the pro-India element. “People are no longer involved with militants directly. They merely want peace.
But the hatred of India has increased. Nationalist forces are also feeling alienated now. Those who made peace with the establishment in the hope of some change feel there is not much pointing remaining committed to a peace process which yields nothing.” “Sukuun” is the most common word offered by people to describe their hopes. While the literal translation of this word is “peace,” it also encompasses the hope of a more tranquil and better life. “Sukuun”, however, seems to be a far cry still and at this crucial turning point in the situation, the government is rapidly running out of time, unable to make the difference that matters.
Village Gulgam is Kupwara is a case in point. For residents in this town in the border district, the army remains the most real face of the Indian state till today and disenchantment with the administration is the predominant sentiment.
The tale of Habibullah exemplifies the situation. A National Conference worker, Habibullah is now the butt of good-humoured chaffing by other villagers as his dreams of good governance turns sour day by day. Having poured in his efforts into campaigning for the National Conference, he is now in the unenviable situation of having nothing to show for it and has turned it fiercest critic.
The only face of the government Habibullah encounters on a daily basis is that of the security forces stationed in the vicinity. Habibullah has spent the previous night in the army camp nearby and has bruises to show for it.
Gulgam, identified earlier as a pro-militant village, saw nearly 100 young men joining the ranks of terrorists. Today the gradual process of disengagement of overt support of militancy is nearly complete. Talk of the past struggle for separatism is met with silence and the village claims it is “clear” of any militants.
The nearby village of Kunnan Poshpora has yielded what the army considers good dividends. The village, which was fiercely anti-India earlier, was responsible for handing over two militants in September this year, says the army. A local army officer, barking our commands on the phone, tells his junior “remember, good conduct yields good information”. A far cry from even a year ago when every resident was a suspect.
The process of bringing about normalcy has, however, not helped the villagers obtain a share of the benefits of development. The High School of Gulgam, burnt down in 1989, is yet to be reconstructed and the MLA does not visit, say villagers. “Only those who salaam him get some help. The tube wells sanctioned for this village are in the courtyards of his supporters.”
Habibullah is not the only one with a recent brush with the security forces. “Yesterday, there was a raid by the BSF battalion stationed nearby and around 50 households were searched on the basis of misleading information”. The women of the village were also recently beaten up by the security forces for wandering in the forest. The army claimed they were going there ton feed the militants while the villagers claim they were collecting firewood since the village is devoid of power for five of the seven days in the week.
“The terror of the army still exists” says Rafiq. It is true that their actions are not as severe as they were in the past. But a dog which bites once will always be feared.”
Agreeing with this sentiment, an army officer says bluntly “people do not like the army”. He also feels that disenchantment with militancy has not seen a commensurate decrease in alienation from India.
The story of disenchantment is the same in other villages across the valley. In Nusu in Bandipora, the complaints run through a similar refrain. No jobs. The road hardly exists except for a patch of rubble and there is no power. Instances of harassment by security forces are less severe but still a predominant cause of anger. While one villager complaints that the renegade militants are supported by the police, another refers to a recent instance of highhandedness by the army. “When the National Conference came to power, there was some hope. People thought there would be someone to listen to their woes. All that has completely been belied. With a few exceptions all are busy lining their own coffers” says a senior officer.
Control over the security situation is the benefit being reaped by the government as a result of the people’s fatigue with militancy. This fatigue, however, could soon turn into a fatigue of peace that does not deliver, that does not provide development, security or freedom from harassment. Once that takes place, what will happen is anybody’s guess.
Kashmir elections neither free nor fair
Kashmir elections neither free nor fair
May 1996
The Statesman
In a poll process that was neither free nor fair, but a successfully completed electoral exercise by the government, the Kashmir Valley underwent the first phase of elections after seven years. People were herded out of villages throughout the Valley to ensure a voter turnout of 43% in Anantnag and 35% in Baramulla.
However, though the Government achieved its goal of holding elections in the Valley, the voters, claiming they had been brought to the polling booths forcibly, remained alienated from the democratic process.
The residents of Awantipora said they were threatened that their houses would be burnt if they did not come out. Most villagers in the Anantnag district too, told a similar tale. Rounds by the security forces, announcements fromloud speakers, in some places from the Masjids, through the local residents and forcible eviction from the houses, were employed to get the voters to the booths. Resentment was high in Bijbehara, where in one locality 40 persons had lost their lives in October 1993, when the security forces opened fire on a demonstration. People said they had refused to come out despite announcements and several rounds by the forces, but had been forced out eventually after continuous pressure. They claimed that men of the counter-insurgency group, the Ikhwan-ul-Muslimoon, had accompanied the Rashtriya Rifles on the third round around the village.
In village Delina the residents came out on the streets on seeing journalists. Despite the presence of the security forces around they raised pro-azadi slogans and gave free vent to their ire against the forces, who, they said, had beaten them to force them out of their houses. There was little secrecy at the polling booths and in several of them, the polling officers were showing voters where to stamp the ballot paper. Most of the polling booths had no polling agents of any of the contesting candidates and there was no method of verification of voters’ identities, with the administration more than happy to allow anyone to vote.
May 1996
The Statesman
In a poll process that was neither free nor fair, but a successfully completed electoral exercise by the government, the Kashmir Valley underwent the first phase of elections after seven years. People were herded out of villages throughout the Valley to ensure a voter turnout of 43% in Anantnag and 35% in Baramulla.
However, though the Government achieved its goal of holding elections in the Valley, the voters, claiming they had been brought to the polling booths forcibly, remained alienated from the democratic process.
The residents of Awantipora said they were threatened that their houses would be burnt if they did not come out. Most villagers in the Anantnag district too, told a similar tale. Rounds by the security forces, announcements fromloud speakers, in some places from the Masjids, through the local residents and forcible eviction from the houses, were employed to get the voters to the booths. Resentment was high in Bijbehara, where in one locality 40 persons had lost their lives in October 1993, when the security forces opened fire on a demonstration. People said they had refused to come out despite announcements and several rounds by the forces, but had been forced out eventually after continuous pressure. They claimed that men of the counter-insurgency group, the Ikhwan-ul-Muslimoon, had accompanied the Rashtriya Rifles on the third round around the village.
In village Delina the residents came out on the streets on seeing journalists. Despite the presence of the security forces around they raised pro-azadi slogans and gave free vent to their ire against the forces, who, they said, had beaten them to force them out of their houses. There was little secrecy at the polling booths and in several of them, the polling officers were showing voters where to stamp the ballot paper. Most of the polling booths had no polling agents of any of the contesting candidates and there was no method of verification of voters’ identities, with the administration more than happy to allow anyone to vote.
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