After Pahalgam: Kashmiris face the wreckage of collective punishment

The blood-soaked fields of Pahalgam bore witness once again to the devastating cycle of violence in Kashmir. On 26 April, people were brutally murdered. Survivors recounted that the attackers separated tourists by religion before killing them — 25 men, 24 of them Hindu, one Christian, and a single Kashmiri Muslim. 

That Muslim, Syed Adil Hussain Shah, had tried to defend the victims, sacrificing his own life in an act of humanity that was buried under the tidal wave of anti-Kashmiri and anti-Muslim hate that erupted across Indian social media. His death, emblematic of the complex realities of Kashmir, was erased to fuel a one-dimensional narrative of hate and vengeance.

Rather than focusing on apprehending the real perpetrators, Indian authorities initiated a campaign of collective punishment, demolishing the homes of families linked to the suspects. The demolitions began with the house of Adil Ahmad Thoker, a Lashkar-e-Taiba member, and continued across the region. 

At the home of another suspect, Asif Sheikh, explosives allegedly detonated during a police search, with conflicting accounts suggesting the forces may have planted them. Such contradictions are a common feature of Kashmir's complex and often murky military operations.

The human cost of these actions is devastating. Shahid Ahmad Kutay's family, for instance, saw their home demolished, with no explanation provided for the destruction. Shahid's father, in a desperate plea, questioned why his family should suffer for an individual's actions. 

According to the Indian Express, Indian officials admitted these demolitions aim to "raise the costs of becoming a militant," revealing that the government's focus is not on justice but on instilling fear through collective retribution.

This is the Kashmir of today, stripped of its protections and dignity. Until 2019, Jammu and Kashmir enjoyed a special constitutional status under Articles 370 and 35a, safeguarding its autonomy and demographic integrity. With the abrupt and unilateral revocation of these provisions, the region has witnessed widespread abuses, including land grabs, mass detentions, and media blackouts. Kashmiris are systematically disenfranchised and displaced as their identity is re-engineered by the state.

The law offers them no refuge. Under the Armed Forces Special Powers Act (AFSPA) and the Army Act, Indian forces operating in Kashmir enjoy sweeping immunity from prosecution. Even the most heinous abuses go unpunished. The Pathribal massacre stands as a chilling reminder. In 2000, five innocent civilians were murdered in cold blood by Army personnel who staged a fake encounter, passing off their bodies as militants. 

In 2012, India's own Central Bureau of Investigation called these murders "cold-blooded" and demanded prosecution. Yet, by 2014, the Army closed the case without charging a single officer, citing "insufficient evidence." In Kashmir, truth and accountability have been buried alongside the bodies.

The situation in Kashmir bears a disturbing resemblance to Israel's practices in occupied Palestine, particularly its policy of demolishing Palestinian homes accused of militant ties. These actions serve as both psychological warfare and a means of demographic manipulation, displacing one population to consolidate control over the region. This strategy, condemned by human rights organisations as collective punishment, violates international law.

The psychological impact of such demolitions is profound. "Domicide", the term for destroying homes, signifies not just the loss of shelter but the destruction of identity, memories, and a sense of belonging. Entire communities are torn apart, and children grow up amid ruins, marked by trauma and instability.

The growing political alliance between India and Israel under Narendra Modi and Benjamin Netanyahu strengthens these parallels. Netanyahu has expressed support for India's actions in Kashmir, framing them as part of a global "war on terror". 

Meanwhile, Indian leaders admire Israel's counterterrorism methods, which are grounded in occupation, apartheid, and dehumanisation. Modi's government has adapted these tactics for Kashmir, using security rhetoric to justify repression, demographic manipulation, and settler-colonialism.

India's actions in Kashmir violate multiple international treaties, including the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR), which protects the right to a home and due process. Collective punishment is considered a war crime, yet it has become normalised in Kashmir.

The persecution of Kashmiris extends beyond the region, with Kashmiris across India facing harassment, suspicion, and violence. Despite his sacrifice to protect Hindu pilgrims, Syed Adil Hussain Shah's death remains unacknowledged by the very nation he sought to defend. The demolitions are not isolated incidents but part of a larger effort to erase Kashmir's identity and its people.

The world must recognise these demolitions for what they truly are: not acts of justice, but tools of oppression. These are not security measures but instruments of terror, aimed at displacing, dominating, and ultimately replacing the people of Kashmir.

Maisha Zaman is a recent LLM graduate in International Human Rights Law and Practice from the University of York. Her academic and professional work has focused on legal reform, social justice, and the rights of marginalised communities. 

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions and views of The Business Standard.