Hope of Naya Kashmir amid poll buzz

ELECTIONS in Jammu and Kashmir are much more than a democratic ritual. In the popular imagination, they have been powerful symbols — of faith and betrayal; resistance and accommodation; hope and disillusionment; confidence and uncertainty. But rarely has the Kashmir valley witnessed such a boisterous celebration of competitive democracy as it has in the ongoing Lok Sabha elections. Robust rallies, roadshows throughout the length and breadth of the picturesque Valley and Kashmir’s many brave, emotional, colourful and sometimes mercurial political leaders have coalesced to construct what may well be a watershed moment in the state-turned-UT’s contemporary history.

New Delhi has a real chance to move beyond history. It is time for the discourse to shift from ‘being special’ to ‘being equal’.

This is the first parliamentary election after the abrogation of Article 370, and the ending of the ‘special provision’ as well as the downgrading of the state to a union territory have been key issues in the campaign. And yet somewhat paradoxically, in the fairness of the elections (conducted in an atmosphere relatively also free of fear) is the finest expression of the idea of India in Kashmir. It is a moment to build on and sustain if we want to truly create a Naya Kashmir, and for that the Assembly elections must be conducted with equal alacrity.

Democracy has had shaky roots in J&K. In the 1950s and the 1960s, stage-managed elections in Jammu were seen as a betrayal of the ‘trust’ of 1947. The 1977 elections, the fairest the erstwhile state had witnessed since Independence, became a leitmotif of faith and accommodation. The 1987 elections, neither free nor fair, paved the way for decades of militancy. Confidence in the democratic process was restored to a considerable extent when for the first time the electorate was able to dislodge the then ruling party in 2002 during Prime Minister Vajpayee’s tenure. But truly gone are the days when then PM Jawaharlal Nehru had to, in the 1950s, reportedly advise the then Wazir-e-Azam of the state, Bakshi Ghulam Mohammad, to concede a few seats to his opponents, if only to make the election credible in the public perception.

Today, most of the voters of J&K genuinely believe that elections are free and fair and that they can make a difference. They are not under the illusion that elections can sort out the larger political issues, but they know that the quest for a “resolution of the Kashmir issue” cannot be allowed to hold them hostage to dysfunctional governance or an unelected government. These are voters who seek global standards of governance, world-class infrastructure and new opportunities of education and employment as well as the right to everyday dignity — without draconian laws — and to ensure that they are not alienated from their land.

Look at J&K’s chequered ‘democratic’ past. In August 1953, Sheikh Abdullah — the tallest leader of the state — was holidaying in Gulmarg when early one morning, Superintendent of Police Lakshman Das Thakur informed the J&K Prime Minister (as was the nomenclature then) that he had been dismissed and was being interned. “Who ordered this?” Sheikh is said to have roared, believing that his friend in Teen Murti House (PM Nehru) would never betray him. Thakur presented an order signed by the Sadr-i-Riyasat, Karan Singh, barely out of his teens, whose father, Maharajah Hari Singh, had been exiled to Mumbai. Sheikh took time to offer namaz before accepting that the ‘chit of the boy’ he had appointed had just removed him from office ‘undemocratically’. For 22 years, Sheikh stayed out of power, arguably the most popular leader until he accepted an accord with Indira Gandhi in 1975.

Of course, the contagion of not allowing democracy in J&K had infected Sheikh’s National Conference (NC) as well, as he barely allowed any opposition to survive in the state. He made inflammatory speeches in RS Pura, flirted with American emissaries and let the tallest leader of the Jana Sangh, Syama Prasad Mookerjee, die in Srinagar on his watch under mysterious circumstances.

His successor, Bakshi, with Delhi’s patronage, manipulated elections to the point that Pandit ji had to counsel him to allow at least some opposition to grow, even if only for cosmetic reasons.

In the post-Sheikh era, his son and political successor Farooq Abdullah was the recipient of New Delhi’s blessings as well as the lack of faith in Indian democracy. In 1984, Abdul Ghani Lone — father of People’s Conference leader Sajjad Lone — had to wake up Dr Abdullah from slumber to inform him that a large section of his loyal MLAs had defected and were in Raj Bhawan with then Governor Jagmohan. Farooq was dismissed, and former Governor BK Nehru has revealed that the defection was arranged after large sums of money were moved by conduits of the Intelligence Bureau, including one well-known Congress leader/businessman, and paid off to the deviant MLAs.

In 1987, Kashmir’s rigged Assembly election were fought by the NC and the Congress together. My father, a respectable Kashmiri Pandit, found that his vote had already been cast in the Amira Kadal constituency, where Maulvi Yusuf Shah of the Muslim United Front (now Syed Salahuddin of the Hizbul Mujahideen) was contesting against the NC’s Ghulam Mohiuddin Shah.

But today, New Delhi has a real chance to move beyond history to create a new future. Most importantly, there must be a quick return to democratic governance through early Assembly elections. The last elections were held nearly a decade ago, and there has been no elected government in J&K for the past over five years. Although there have been elections to local bodies, they cannot be a substitute for a duly constituted Legislative Assembly.

Statehood must be restored to J&K as soon as possible; Home Minister Amit Shah had given an assurance in December last year that this would be done at an appropriate time. The appropriate time is now, so that any angst over the lost battle over Article 370 is overtaken by a sense of victory over regaining statehood.

Finally, it is time for the discourse to move from ‘being special’ to ‘being equal’. Most residents and leaders of the UT would recognise that as an equal member of the Indian federal polity, they may enjoy greater freedom and rights than they did in a special state. After all, today, Tamil Nadu or West Bengal or Odisha is able to preserve its cultural identity, political space and economic wellbeing much better than J&K was able to do as a special state of the Union.