KASHMIR Advanced Praise In this powerful book, Gowhar Geelani recounts how Kashmiris are reclaiming their own narrative, which has for so long been told mainly by outsiders. Geelani’s book is itself a landmark in that process. Here is one of the most articulate and well informed of Kashmiris giving voice to how Kashmiris feel, and what it’s like to live in a pressure cooker…Geelani details the perils and pressures faced by the news media in Kashmir and looks for chinks of light which might lift the political gloom that has settled on the Valley that he loves. Let’s hope this book is widely read. —Andrew Whitehead, former editor, BBC World Service, author and historian Gowhar Geelani has written a brilliant book. It has three major qualities. First, it is informative, with the author revealing his and other ethnic Kashmiris’ interesting, often distressing, on-the-ground experiences in Kashmir. Second, it is engaging—grippingly so, at times—as Geelani relates in a very readable style significant events endured by Kashmiris in recent times. Third, it is thought-provoking, with this reader now much better informed about Kashmiris’ aspirations, intentions and experiences. This is one of the most informative and stimulating books that I have ever read about Kashmir. —Christopher Snedden, noted historian and author It takes courage to write about Kashmir, especially for a Kashmiri. In Rage and Reason, Gowhar Geelani writes with passion about the past, present and future of his homeland. As a journalist and coming from a generation of Kashmiris who have witnessed ‘the horrors of violence’, he combines his own experiences with those of others as well as citing from the prevailing literature, prose and poetry. ‘Documenting pain can be a challenge,’ he writes. Yet, he has been forthright in undertaking that challenge. For anyone wishing to comprehend the complexities of anger, uncertainty, hope and despair, Geelani’s well-sourced narrative provides an authentic window of understanding. —Victoria Schofield, acclaimed author, biographer and historian Published by Rupa Publications India Pvt. Ltd 2019 7/16, Ansari Road, Daryaganj New Delhi 110002 Copyright © Gowhar Geelani 2019 The views and opinions expressed in this book are the author’s own and the facts are as reported by him which have been verified to the extent possible, and the publishers are not in any way liable for the same. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher. ISBN: 978-93-5333-XXX-X First impression 2019 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1 The moral right of the author has been asserted. This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated, without the publisher’s prior consent, in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published. Primarily, I dedicate this book to my Mummy, who stood by me through thick and thin. More often than not, she backed my decisions, often silly, but at times, reasonable too. Without her blessings, I wouldn’t be where I am today. She is no longer present amongst us in a physical sense, but I have never felt her absence in my life in a spiritual sense. I am sanguine that she would be smiling and feeling proud that her not-so-obedient son didn’t let her down! To my Daddy Jan from whose analytical mind and debating skills I learned a lot. He taught me lessons of life to make me appreciate the difference between a dream and reality. To my granny, Boba, whose unconditional love for me can never be explained in words! To Shabu and Muhi, my lifelines! And to my three sisters, younger cousins and members of the extended paternal and maternal families. CONTENTS Preface 1. Teenager to Rebel Icon 2. Why Tral ‘Bleeds Green’ 3. Homeland or Caliphate? 4. A Nationalism of Multiple Identities 5. Violence to Non-Violence: A Lost Opportunity? 6. A New Language of Resistance 7. Hell in Paradise 8. Media Wars 9. The Path Ahead 10. A Leadership Crisis Acknowledgements PREFACE ‘Jaago, jaago, subah hui, fateh ka parcham lehraya’ (Wake up, wake up, the dawn has arrived, Our victory’s flag is flying high) This is perhaps one of the first freedom songs I vividly remember by heart. Like the bedtime lullabies, these songs, which played either from the loudspeakers of the mosque or during the pro-azadi* demonstrations, became very much part of Kashmir’s collective memory in the 1990s. Before 1989, I, along with other kids of my age, would be hatching conspiracies to prepare tehri, a special dish of rice cooked with turmeric. It was a common practice among kids to steal mugs of rice from their house to half-cook it, by mixing haldi in it, in an earthen pot. We would pile up wooden sticks and surround these by bricks, and then set the tiny twigs on fire, using a matchstick and some stolen kerosene for smooth combustion. Then we would distribute this tehri amongst ourselves. Some kids would play as hosts while others acted as guests. It was great fun. Another attention-grabbing childhood activity was to plan scrupulous attacks on apple and almond orchards, and pomegranate trees. I would often visit my matamaal (maternal home) for this reason alone. In Kashmir, the matamaal is a robust social institution that plays an important role in a child’s upbringing and overall development. My extended maternal family owned beautiful orchards. All the kids would together organize ‘Operation Apple and Almond Theft’. I was the laziest, for I loved to have apples without taking the risk of being caught by Nana, Nani, my mamas and my khalas *. In a way, however, I would be the strategist. Other kids followed my plans to execute them with perfection. At the time, one hardly ever heard any sirens of ambulances or police vehicles. Mostly music around us children was produced by the plucking of apples from the branches and throwing stones at ripened almonds and walnuts. In the evenings, we would plan ‘Operation Anar**’. We would plan our four-course meal in the mornings itself— apples, walnuts, almonds and pomegranates. Life seemed wonderful. During Kashmir’s harsh winters, our plans, of course, needed some novelty. Therefore, our focus shifted to the making of concocted ice creams. I and my khalas would break the icicles hanging from the roof of the house and mix powdered milk and sugar with them to bluff ourselves to think that we had made ice cream. Another activity during the winters would include making a snowman. Charcoal pieces from our kangris were used to draw eyes, nose and eyebrows of our perfect snowman, which sometimes resembled Santa Claus. Hence, the only tense moments in our life were to avoid the risk of being seen by our elders plucking apples or stealing things like mugs of rice, powdered milk or cookies from the kitchen. I would also play cricket, a passion I continue to nurture even today. There was no dearth of playgrounds. We played in orchards with tree trunks as wickets or on the sides of the nearest graveyard. Older boys would bring their radio sets with them to listen to the live commentary of cricket matches from Radio Pakistan in chaste Urdu. This was my initiation into the world of commentary; it was lovely to listen to persuasive and fluent commentary in the language of elegance and grace. Besides this, it was very common for Kashmiri Pandits to have friends from the Kashmiri Muslim community and vice versa. Several women from both communities would visit famous astaans (sufi shrines) located in downtown Srinagar and Chrar-e-Sharief in central Kashmir’s Budgam. They would tie ritualistic threads at the shrines when their children were to appear in examinations or competitive entrance tests with the aim to become engineers or doctors.