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In the annals of India’s post-independence journey, the story of Jammu and Kashmir has long stood apart—etched in heartbreak, cloaked in complexity, and burdened with the weight of unfinished aspirations. Yet, in the last five years, a quiet revolution has unfolded in this most sensitive of Indian territories—not with fanfare or flamboyance, but with steadiness, steel, and statesmanship. At the center of this transformation stands a man known more for action than applause: Lieutenant Governor Manoj Sinha.
Sinha assumed office in August 2020 and did not allow the uncertainty surrounding Kashmir’s future to hover over the valley since it was recovering from the fragile aftermath of Article 370’s abrogation. The region, with its long-standing voids in politics and economy, was riddled with stagnation and a blend of narratives built over decades. Instead of giving up, he decided to pay attention, but not just to bureaucrats or experts; he decided to commence listening to the common Kashmiris from the frozen Kupwara villages to the Shopian’s apple orchards. He traveled, conducted public darbars, visited people’s homes, listened to their world of grief, and initiated the trust-building process that can only be described as one of the boldest democratic experiments in Indian history.
Today, under his stewardship, the Valley has witnessed a metamorphosis few thought possible. The politics of hartal and shutdowns, once an endemic tool of separatist expression, has vanished almost completely. No longer are marketplaces ghost towns under the diktat of militant threats or Hurriyat calendars. The Pahalgam terror attack, which recently shook the conscience of the nation, saw something unprecedented: thousands of Kashmiris pouring into the streets—not in protest against the state, but in resounding condemnation of terrorism. For the first time in the Valley’s recent memory, the people stood not apart, but with the state. That moment, pregnant with symbolism, did not arise from fear—but from faith. Faith in an administration that has upheld the doctrine Sinha so often repeats: “Begunah ko chhedo mat, aur gunahgar ko chhodo mat.” — Touch not the innocent, and spare not the guilty.
This phrase has not merely remained rhetorical. It has come alive through policy. In Manoj Sinha’s tenure, not a single fake encounter has been reported or proven—a remarkable feat in a region where mistrust between the state and people once ran deep. The result? A citizenry that now views governance as a protective shield, not an occupying force.
What enhances this transformation is the fact that it occurred without a popular governing regime. No CM was elected, nor was there any coalition mathematics. It was only with the effective machinery of administrative will that development progressed. Sopore and Pulwama do not experience stone pelting anymore. Rather now, there is the construction of new roads, power plants, water supply projects, entrepreneurial initiatives, and a plethora of initiatives aimed at the youth. Even the last village on the last hill is targeted by government schemes. Jammu & Kashmir Is often leading for a change, and is not lagging behind in implementation metrics.
Once unreachable areas are now traversable by rail. What were once dirt paths have turned into national highways and are now dust-free. Even the most secluded villages can access high-speed Internet and e-governance portals alongside grievance redressal systems. A glimpse of digitally enabled governance brings villagers closer to government services, allowing them to use applications that enable them to check the status of development projects—such tools were once considered luxurious but have now become commonplace. This digital governance evolution was made possible by Sinha’s vision.
And he has not simply ruled from behind files. He has walked among the people. His Back to Village initiatives are not just symbols of approachability, but rather catalysts for change. In the absence of political middlemen, Sinha has chosen people’s proximity as the most democratic form of governance. Through these consistent, unobscured encounters, he has forged trust that is indestructible between Raj Bhavan and rural Kashmir.
Security, too, has been approached with clinical precision. Without headline-grabbing operations or muscular pronouncements, his administration has delivered the most crushing blows to the terror ecosystem seen in decades. The oxygen supply to separatist politics has been severed—economically, socially, and ideologically. Where once militant posters adorned walls, now Tiranga rallies stretch across towns once considered separatist strongholds. The silence of fear has been replaced by the voice of aspiration.
Two elections—Lok Sabha Polls and the recent assembly Elections —were conducted peacefully, with significant voter participation, including from areas historically associated with boycott politics. This return of democratic confidence is not a coincidence—it is a consequence. A consequence of Sinha’s unwavering insistence that governance must be clean, inclusive, and effective. His tenure has witnessed a systematic purge of corruption from public institutions, bringing accountability to the very core of state functioning. The days of middlemen and “power brokers” are numbered. Civil servants today know they are expected to deliver, not defer.
And in all this, Sinha has never sought the limelight. A technocrat by training, a statesman by instinct, he belongs to that rare breed of public leaders who measure legacy not in applause but in outcomes. In a region that has long suffered from excesses of both neglect and noise, his quiet but unrelenting leadership has been both antidote and answer.
History may look back at this period as the hinge upon which Kashmir’s future turned. A time when the narrative of despair was overtaken by a movement of dignity. When a state known for its fractures began to find cohesion. And when a man—unassuming, thoughtful, resolute—chose not to promise change, but to deliver it.
Manoj Sinha has not just governed Jammu & Kashmir. He has guided its conscience, reformed its soul, and returned hope to a land long denied it.
Mudasir Dar is a social and peace activist based in South Kashmir. He is a Rashtrapati Award recipient in world scouting and has contributed to many local and national publications on a diverse range of topics, including national security, politics, governance, peace, and conflict.
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