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Following the tragic Pahalgam massacre—where blood flowed in the tranquility of pine valleys and under saffron skies—Kashmir stands at the crossroads of another ethical and political dilemma. While the rest of the country is mourning and hoping there would be some accountability, a more troubling reality waits dormant beneath layers of grief and sentiment: there is a reality that remains unspoken. And this remains true for Kashmir, for words can be fatal.
Way before Pahalgam’s bullets started to reverberate in the air, movement of a different kind of weapon was on full display: language. Language that exhausted the possibility of inclusion. Language that demonized participation. Language that referred to India’s attempt at a democratic foothold in the valley as an invasion. Not only were policies being critiqued, but rather placed as an existential battle avatar.
One of the most shocking, and perhaps damaging, voices was the one of elected Kashmiris like MP Ruhullah Mehdi from Srinagar or even PDP MLA from Pulwama Waheed Parra from Pulwama. Both men are figures in the Valley’s political ecosystem and both recently gave remarks that either intentionally or unintentionally showed an exclusionary worldview. In more than one interview, they framed central policies not as administrative changes, but as ideological attacks. Tourism was dubbed as ‘cultural invasion’ while the domiciles provided were termed as demographic scheming. By doing this, a narrative was constructed where an Indian is occupying, a tourist becomes a colonizer and an Indian who settles down in Kashmir is a weapon meant to change the demographic balance.
Connecting their verbal statements directly to the trigger simplifies the intricate reasoning behind terror – it is to recognize a threatening trend. Like all forms of violence, militancy exists within an ecosystem that is nourished by deep-rooted narratives, ideologies, and certain intellectual figures – however uninvolved they might appear – give justification to these triggers.
Waheed Parra a young PDP MLA from Pulwama. In his conversation with journalist Gowhar Geelani, he expressed concern with non-locals being given domicile certificates: 83742 in total, stating:
“Of genesis [of domicile certificates issued], their purpose is demographic transformation…”
“There is an identity reconstruction agenda for Jammu and Kashmir. These people, why have they been included? What, after all, is the justification for such a step?”
Parra emphasized that this number—83,742—was for one year alone, and this figure might be double than the figure of one year given . This wasn’t just an administrative question—it was an accusation. It implied conspiracy, demographic engineering, and a hidden plan to erase Kashmiri identity. It is a grave charge to make without evidence, and graver still when made by an elected lawmaker.
No region suffers more than the exact rhetoric from militant propaganda: being ‘replaced,’ ‘erased,’ ‘occupied’ and fear mongering. Such a statement in the hands of an impressionistic Kashmiri youth who is already suffering from isolation and years of conflict sounds like anything but constitutional criticism. To them, such statements serve as justification. They strengthen the conviction that fighting back, even in violent ways, is justified.
Srinagar MP Ruhullah Mehdi recently went a step further. In a statement widely reported across media, he described the influx of tourism in Kashmir as a “cultural invasion,” arguing:
“Tourism in Kashmir is being used as a tool for cultural invasion. It is not a sign of peace, but a political narrative being pushed to camouflage the realities of occupation… This is a psychological war meant to overwrite our trauma with artificial normalcy.”
By describing peaceful visitors and economic revival as an “invasion,” Mehdi turned civil movement into a threat and economic revival into cultural colonization. His words didn’t just express dissent—they reframed every peaceful gesture by the Indian state as an existential assault on Kashmir’s identity.
Tourism—one of the key employment sectors for Kashmiris, brings devaluation revenue, and transforms the Valley into a region of common happiness and collective identity—was reconceptualized as a danger to civilization. This is not a plea for cultural preservation; rather, it suggests that Kashmiris need to fight back against what is termed “invasion” in order to protect their essence.
Such undertones that can be heard on the streets or see comments on social media may be dismissed as uninformed blabber. But if they originated from someone who has been elected to parliament, that becomes a chant legitimizing violence. It transforms the moral framework that renders violence not only justifiable, but essential.
Days after the Pahalgam massacre, the militant group The Resistance Front (TRF) claimed responsibility. In a chilling statement, they said:
“More than 85,000 domiciles have been issued to non-locals, creating a pathway for demographic change in Indian-occupied Jammu & Kashmir (IIOJK). These non-locals arrive posing as tourists, obtain domiciles, and then begin to act as if they own the land. Consequently, violence will be directed toward those attempting to settle illegally.”
Here lies the uncomfortable truth: the TRF did not invent this narrative. It borrowed it. From the very leaders who now condemn the attack, but whose words pre-justified the mindset behind it. The idea that people are not merely arriving but are being “planted” feeds into a siege mentality that radical groups are only too happy to weaponize.
The parallels between the militant rhetoric and the remarks of Mehdi and Parra are striking. When a sitting Member of Parliament refers to tourists as ‘invaders’, and an MLA disputing the citizenship of lawful settlers, how do these actions inform the narrative below? For them: the conflict is morally warranted. Your war is justified. Your violence is simply another form of resistance.
The massacre at Pahalgam, which aimed for non-local visitors and contractors, did not happen in a vacuum. It happened within a linguistic framework where the existence of non-Kashmiris had already been problematized, delegitimized, and dehumanized. The tourist was not considered a visitor, but a change agent. The settler was not an inhabitant, but a colonizer. Violence is merely a natural consequence when core assumptions have already been accepted.
Terrorism is not just a consequence of religious fanaticism or geopolitical strategies; it is often the result of narratives that justify violence while vilifying the “other.” In Kashmir, this narrative has often been constructed not only by Pakistan and its proxies, but also by internal voices who, in the name of democratic legitimacy, stoke the very fires they profess to extinguish.
“It’s not about roads or electricity or water,” explains Waheed Parra. “This is about something bigger.” And it is about identity and belonging. However, what he and Ruhullah Mehdi put forth is not an alternate vision. It is the return to grievance without governance, identity without inclusion, memory without future.
The time has come to hold not just gunmen, but ideologues accountable. Kashmir’s pain has been prolonged not only by those who wield the gun but by those who wield the pen, the podium, and the political platform to seed distrust and division.
Domicile laws and tourism may indeed merit scrutiny—but critique should not become sedition by subtext. When elected representatives describe India’s civil initiatives as colonial maneuvers, they don’t just reject policies—they provoke paranoia. And when paranoia replaces policy as the organizing principle of public discourse, massacres like Pahalgam become inevitable.
If we are to end this cycle of blood, we must begin by confronting the language that precedes it.
Words, after all, are where wars begin.
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.
These pieces are being published as they have been received – they have not been edited/fact-checked by ThePrint.