For decades, the name Kashmir has been synonymous with intractable conflict. Recent events, such as the ongoing fierce skirmishes between Kashmiri resistance fighters and the Indian army in the dense jungles of Kulgam, are a stark reminder that this conflict is far from over. It is the most militarized zone on Earth, a beautiful valley where the lives of its people are shadowed by the presence of over 750,000 Indian soldiers, and a flashpoint that constantly risks pulling two nuclear-armed neighbors into a wider war, as tensions after attacks like the one in Pahalgam have shown.
While the world often sees Kashmir as a territorial dispute, this view misses the heart of the story; The unceasing, multi-generational resistance of a people who have shown they are ready to choose any legitimate method to further their cause, be it unarmed peaceful struggle or a justified armed resistance against occupation. The armed movement that erupted in the late 1980s was not a sudden explosion of radicalism. It was the tragic, and perhaps inevitable, result of a long history of subjugation, broken promises, and the denial of the right to self-determination.
The Genesis of a People’s Struggle
The seeds of the conflict were sown long before the partition of the Indian subcontinent. In 1846, the British Empire sold the Muslim-majority Vale of Kashmir to the Hindu Dogra monarch, Gulab Singh, for 7.5 million rupees through the Treaty of Amritsar. More than a simple transaction, this act transferred a people like property, embedding a deep-seated sense of grievance and establishing a pattern of external rule. This foundational injustice fueled decades of resentment, which boiled over in 1931 when Dogra forces massacred dozens of Muslims protesting the monarchy’s oppressive policies, an event that galvanized a cohesive Kashmiri political identity.
The cataclysm of 1947 deepened the wound. As the British Raj dissolved, the ruler of Kashmir, Maharaja Hari Singh, signed the Instrument of Accession to India in exchange against the public’s will. This act, carried out against the backdrop of a popular revolt, led to the first Indo-Pakistani war and the division of Kashmir. India took the issue to the United Nations, which in 1948 passed Resolution 47, calling for a “free and impartial plebiscite” to determine the will of the Kashmiri people. It was a promise of self-determination that became the bedrock of the Kashmiri political consciousness, a promise that was never kept.
For the next forty years, the conflict simmered. Wars in 1965 and 1971 failed to alter the status quo, while within Indian-administered Kashmir, a policy of political manipulation ensured no genuine local leadership could flourish. This period of engineered calm was shattered by the 1987 state assembly elections. The vote was widely condemned as having been brazenly rigged by New Delhi to sideline the popular (Pro-Independence/Accession with Pakistan) Muslim United Front (MUF). Despite evidence of having secured a significant share of the vote, the MUF was officially awarded only four seats.
For a generation of Kashmiris who had tentatively placed their faith in the democratic process, this was the final betrayal. It was not just an election that was stolen, but the very idea of a political solution within the Indian framework. The path of the ballot box was now seen as a dead end. Consequently, in the years that followed, many of the young men who had participated in the election as candidates and polling agents crossed the Line of Control, seeking arms and training. The era of armed resistance had begun.
From 1989, the valley exploded. The insurgency enjoyed widespread popular support, with militants hailed as freedom fighters. In response, the Indian state deployed a counter-insurgency strategy of overwhelming force, one that would create a landscape of fear and collective punishment. According to various independent organisations, over 100,000 Kashmiris have lost their lives in this conflict since 1989.
This period was marked by a litany of human rights abuses, including notorious massacres at Gawakadal (1990), Sopore (1993), and Bijbehara (1993).
Additionally reports suggest that over 8,000 civilians have been subjected to enforced disappearance. Sexual violence was also deployed as a weapon of war, most infamously in the 1991 Kunan Poshpora mass rape. These actions were enabled by draconian laws like the Armed Forces Special Powers Act (AFSPA), which grants Indian forces near-total immunity from prosecution.
By the mid-2000s, the global political climate and a shift in regional dynamics led to a decrease in the intensity of the armed struggle. But the resistance did not die, it evolved. It morphed into massive, unarmed civil uprisings in 2008, 2010, and 2016. These Kashmiri “intifadas” saw hundreds of thousands take to the streets, armed with little more than stones, only to be met with live ammunition and pellet-firing shotguns that blinded hundreds.
This era also saw the rise of a new generation of resistance fighters who symbolized a conscious rejection of the status quo. Burhan Wani, a charismatic, social-media-savvy commander killed in 2016, became an icon of indigenous resistance. The example of another resistance commander, Junaid Sehrai, son of prominent Hurriyet leader Ashraf Sehrai, highlights that for most Kashmiris, peaceful and armed resistance are seen as two parts of the same struggle. The story of Dr. Manan Wani, an accomplished PhD scholar who left his university to join the armed struggle in 2018, was even more telling. His choice powerfully countered the narrative that militants were simply uneducated youth, representing instead an intellectual and symbolic rejection of the Indian state’s legitimacy.
The political dynamics again changed on August 5, 2019, when the Indian government unilaterally revoked Articles 370 and 35A of its constitution, stripping Kashmir of its nominal autonomy and its protection against demographic change. The move was preceded by an unprecedented military lockdown and communications blackout. The message was clear that any semblance of Kashmiri autonomy was over. However, this did not end the resistance. Both armed and unarmed struggle have continued in the years since, adapting to the new political reality but holding firm to the goal of self-determination.
The Kashmiri Struggle in a Global Context
India has long framed the Kashmir issue as a domestic problem of cross-border terrorism. However, a deeper analysis of its administration reveals patterns consistent with a classic colonial project. The overwhelming military presence is not merely for security, it functions as an apparatus of social control, creating a state of exception where civilian life is subordinated to military logic. The economic model mirrors colonial exploitation, with Kashmir’s rich resources like water and timber controlled for external benefit, leaving the local economy underdeveloped. Furthermore, the suppression of indigenous political expression and the 2019 legal changes, which enable demographic alteration, are textbook settler-colonial tactics designed to dilute the indigenous population’s political power and sever their connection to the land. This is not the governance of a federal state, it is the administration of an occupied territory.
Viewed through this colonial lens, the Kashmiri struggle for freedom invites direct comparison with other anti-colonial movements celebrated globally. International law has long recognized the right of a people to resist foreign occupation, including through armed struggle. It is crucial to remember that occupying powers have always branded resistance as “terrorism.” The British called American revolutionaries traitors, the French labeled Algerian freedom fighters as terrorists. Yet history now remembers the American War of Independence, the Algerian war against France and many others as legitimate wars of liberation. If these historical armed struggles are celebrated as righteous, on what moral grounds can the Kashmiri resistance be uniquely delegitimized?
The principles of justice and self-determination are universal. To apply them selectively, to celebrate one people’s fight for freedom while condemning another’s, is not just a profound hypocrisy, but a denial of the very international norms that emerged from the ashes of empire.
