The cries from Kashmir are clear: Treat us as equal citizens, not suspects

The recent Pahalgam terror attack that killed 25 tourists and a local Kashmiri and injured many more has shaken the collective conscience of the nation. There is no justification for such brutality, and the country rightly mourns the lives lost. But as grief turned to outrage, a dangerous tide began to rise — one where Kashmiris, living outside, are being punished for the crimes of terrorists, where the rule of law is being sacrificed at the altar of vengeance.

In the days following the attack, news reports and videos from different parts of the country flooded social media, showing Kashmiris, especially students, being harassed, threatened, and in some cases even attacked brutally by fringe elements. They are made to feel like enemies within their own country. This collective punishment is not only unconstitutional — it is immoral. Most Kashmiris are as nationalistic and peace-loving as any other citizen of the country.

They are not outsiders. They are not “the other.” In fact, they have long been the worst sufferers of terrorism. They have seen loved ones lost, homes destroyed, and futures snatched — not just by terrorists but also by the long, grinding cycles of conflict and militarisation. What they need from their fellow countrymen is not suspicion or scorn — but empathy and solidarity.

We must not forget that in the Pahalgam attack, a young Muslim Kashmiri, a pony ride operator, sacrificed his life while saving the lives of Hindu tourists under attack from terrorists. His act of bravery and humanity stands in stark contrast to the sweeping generalisations being made about his community elsewhere in the country. In his final moments, he did not think of religion or region — only of saving lives. That is what true nationalism looks like.

The second part of the punishment came in the form of what has been now described as “bomb justice”. In Kashmir, videos have surfaced of homes being flattened using explosives, allegedly for “harbouring terrorists” or having “terror links”. These demolitions are carried out without trial and without giving the families inside even a moment to prove their innocence or save their belongings. The message is clear: the state has become prosecutor, judge, and executioner. These are not the actions of a democracy governed by law. These are spectacles of retribution.

It also punches holes in the Centre’s claim that “normalcy” has returned to Jammu and Kashmir after the abrogation of Article 370 in 2019. Till the Pahalgam attack, the government maintained that peace and development had replaced violence and alienation post August 5, 2019. But the Pahalgam attack — one of the deadliest in recent memory — shows that the security situation remains fragile. If everything is normal, why are tourists being attacked? Why do homes still fall to bombs instead of being protected by courts? Why are young Kashmiris outside the Valley still unsafe?

Normalcy is not measured by the number of tourists visiting, but it is measured by trust, justice, and equal rights. When Kashmiris live under the threat of demolition, arrest without cause, or discrimination in other states, that is not normalcy — that is the appearance of peace enforced by fear.

Justice must be delivered to the victims of the Pahalgam attack. Those who planned and executed this barbaric act must be chased till their graves. But justice can’t become a cover for collective punishment. In a democracy, individuals — not entire communities — are held responsible for crimes.

India has always taken pride in being a constitutional democracy. That pride must not falter in the face of terror. On the contrary, it is in such moments that the strength of a democracy is truly tested. Do we uphold the rule of law? Or do we succumb to mob anger and state overreach? Accountability, transparency, and adherence to the law are not weaknesses; they are the strengths of a civilised society. The pain of the victims of terror must be addressed with justice, not collective retribution.

Terrorism must be fought — firmly and fairly. But in that fight, we must not lose sight of our values. The young Kashmiri who gave his life to save tourists showed us what courage and patriotism look like. We would do well to honour his sacrifice — not with brickbats, but with empathy, justice, and the unwavering belief that Kashmiris are not a problem to be solved — they are a people to be heard, respected, and protected.

The State’s actions seem to be sending a wrong message. By flattening homes without a judicial process and not taking tough action to check hate from festering in India, it is reinforcing the deeply flawed idea that Kashmiris are inherently suspect. This is not only unjust — it is dangerous. It plays straight into the hands of the very forces that seek to divide India in the name of region and religion. What Kashmir needs today is empathy, not suspicion. Healing, not humiliation. Justice, not vengeance. The cry from Kashmir is simple: treat us as equal citizens,
not suspects.