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Jammu’s Quest for Statehood

(Kashmir Rechords News Desk)

The demand for a separate Jammu state has been raised intermittently over the years. It notably resurfaced during the 2019 reorganization of the former Jammu and Kashmir state, when Ladakh was granted Union Territory status, fulfilling a long-standing demand of its people. However, the call for a separate Jammu state, much like the Kashmiri Pandits’ demand for a homeland with Union Territory status, went unmet. Concerns about Jammu’s alleged political marginalization particularly since 1979, have been central to this debate. The demand for a separate Jammu state was first voiced by Jan Sangh ideologue Balraj Madhok, who advocated for Union Territory status for border areas such as Teetwal and Uri, alongside the division of Ladakh.

Over time, the issue has periodically emerged as a significant election theme. Various political parties have included the demand for a separate Jammu state in their manifestos, feeling that the region has been consistently sidelined by what they term “Kashmiri leadership.” Yet, even with this being a popular electoral issue, it has not gained widespread traction or acceptance, even within the top leadership of the BJP. For example, in  September 1990, former Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee, during his visit to Jammu, opposed the idea of a separate Jammu state, though he supported Union Territory status for Ladakh. His stance, as a respected statesman and intellectual, was viewed as a decisive one, likely backed by careful political consideration.

The demand for Jammu statehood has also seen attempts at political mobilization. Prof. Virender Gupta of Jammu University founded the Jammu State Morcha, later renamed the Jammu Mukti Morcha, with the explicit aim of creating a separate Jammu state. Despite his efforts and those of his supporters, the movement struggled to gain electoral success, with Gupta’s party failing to secure a single assembly seat, in contrast to the BJP, which has focused on addressing the issue of discrimination without advocating for full statehood.

Historically, Jammu’s political grievances came to the forefront during the 1966 Jammu Students’ agitation, which also raised the issue of discrimination. However, the demand for a separate Jammu state was suppressed, and the movement eventually lost momentum. Kashmir’s politicians on the other hand have always been telling that there was no discrimination with Jammu as it was merely a poll plank to woo voters and befool people of the region.

In contrast, Ladakh, which was granted Union Territory status in 2019, appears to have resolved some of its historical grievances. However, many Ladakhi leaders in past have stated that their region did not experience the same level of political discrimination as Jammu. Nevertheless, some sections of Ladakh’s population are now reportedly dissatisfied with their Union Territory status, with concerns that extend beyond their prior claims of discrimination.

As the September-October elections of 2024 underscore the deepening political divide, with the BJP consolidating its grip in Jammu, the demand for a separate Jammu state again resurfaced. However, the fact that a statesman of Atal Bihari Vajpayee’s stature publicly opposed the demand in 1990 remains a significant factor. His opposition likely stemmed from strong political and strategic convictions, which continue to influence the BJP’s position on the matter.

The debate surrounding Jammu’s political future continues to be shaped by both historical grievances and present-day electoral dynamics. While calls for statehood persist, they face substantial political and ideological challenges.

Kashmir’s Vintage Cycle Allowance Order of 1943!

(Kashmir Rechords Exclusive)

In the autumn of 1942, amidst the sweeping changes of colonial India, a curious proposal made its way through the corridors of power in Jammu and Kashmir. Sir N. Gopalaswami Ayyangar, the Prime Minister of the Princely State, was at the helm of the administration, when an intriguing request was placed before him. It concerned the Jamadar, Flower Nursery—an employee responsible for tending to the gardens and parks of Srinagar, who had to travel considerable distances every day.

The proposal? To grant him a Cycle Allowance of just four rupees per month, a modest sum that would assist this hard-working individual with the cost of his daily commute. The Director of Agriculture had initially mooted this idea, and after a review from the Office of the Accountant General in Srinagar, it was found to be free of audit objections. However, it still needed the Prime Minister’s approval and the concurrence of the Finance Department before it could become official.

A Legacy from Kashmir’s Past

In a rather surprising turn of events, the Accountant General, having reviewed the matter, recommended a slight enhancement. Instead of the originally suggested four rupees, the allowance was raised to five rupees per month, an increase that would later be ratified by the Chief Secretary of Jammu and Kashmir, Mr. Haveli Ram, on August 24, 1943. This new allowance was officially sanctioned to the Jamadar with the date of First Bhadon, 1999 Vikram Samvat (August 17, 1942, Gregorian) marked as its effective start.

It was a decision that would surely bring delight to the concerned employee, for in those days, such a sum would have been considered a small fortune for many in the workforce. The Jamadar, whose duties included visiting the sprawling gardens attached to the State Houses, would now be receiving a monthly allowance that reflected the growing importance of bicycles as a mode of transportation for government workers.

Interestingly, the concept of Cycle Allowance was not unique to Jammu and Kashmir. During the 1930s and 1940s, the British colonial administration introduced similar allowances across India to support employees whose roles required long commutes on bicycles. Factory workers, postmen, and other such workers were the primary beneficiaries, as the British government recognized the efficiency bicycles provided in completing work-related travel. This initiative aimed to enhance productivity while simultaneously providing employees with a much-needed subsidy for their transportation.

Even after India’s independence in 1947, the Cycle Allowance persisted, serving as a symbolic link between the colonial past and the newly independent nation. As bicycles remained the most affordable mode of transport for low-wage earners, the allowance became a fixture in government payrolls.

A Relic of Bygone Era

However,  the Cycle Allowance eventually became a relic of a bygone era. The 7th Central Pay Commission, in its efforts to rationalize allowances, abolished the Cycle Allowance. Yet, a few exceptions remained. The Department of Posts and Railways retained the allowance for Postmen and Trackmen, doubling the allowance from ₹90 to ₹180 per month to reflect inflation and changing times.

By the turn of the 21st century, the landscape of public transportation in India had undergone a remarkable transformation. Bus routes, metro systems, and trains became reliable urban connectors, and private vehicles, including two-wheelers and cars, became increasingly accessible to the middle class. With these changes, the Cycle Allowance began to feel more like a remnant of a different time. In today’s era of electric vehicles, ride-sharing, and high-speed metros, the Cycle Allowance is undoubtedly a curious survivor. It serves as a testament to how a simple measure—like a small allowance for cycling—could have an enduring impact on the lives of workers. For some, the Cycle Allowance will always be a symbol of resilience and a quirky piece of history that managed to endure.

Prem Nath Bhat: A Torchbearer of Unity and Service

(Kashmir Rechords Desk)

Late Shri Prem Nath Bhat, the first journalist martyred during the Kashmir turmoil, has become an enduring symbol of resistance against religious fundamentalism and the ethnic cleansing of vulnerable minorities, particularly the Kashmiri Pandit community. In both life and death, he exemplified a remarkable commitment to unity and service to humanity, transcending religious, political and ideological boundaries. A true awakened soul, Shri Prem Nath Bhat combined exceptional leadership qualities with an unwavering dedication to his homeland, choosing to remain in Kashmir despite the threats of terrorism that ultimately claimed his life.

His father, Pt. Lachman Bhat, deeply grieved by the tragic loss of his illustrious son, passed away on November 6, 1990, in Jammu, less than a year after Shri Prem Nath Bhat’s assassination.

The Black Day

December 27, 1989, marks a dark chapter in India’s history, as this great son of Kashmir was gunned down, symbolizing a direct assault on India’s ethos and the centuries-old value system of Kashmir. Known for its harmonious and inclusive culture, the Kashmir of Shri Prem Nath Bhat’s time was tragically torn apart by violence and hatred.

He was the third prominent Kashmiri Pandit to fall victim to terrorism during that turbulent period, following the assassinations of Tika Lal Taploo in September 1989 and Neelkanth Ganjoo in November 1989. Shri Prem Nath Bhat was targeted for his fearless advocacy on behalf of the Kashmiri Pandit community. His efforts extended across India as he championed the cause of his people, built institutions, safeguarded temples and properties and worked tirelessly to alleviate the fear psychosis gripping the community following the 1986 Anantnag riots.

Despite the peak of anti-national activities in 1989-1990, and even against the advice of well-meaning Muslim friends urging him to leave the valley, Shri Prem Nath Bhat chose to remain steadfast in Kashmir, epitomizing unparalleled courage.

A Multifaceted Personality

In addition to being an accomplished advocate, Shri Prem Nath Bhat was a distinguished journalist with a profound understanding of the socio-political issues and shifting dynamics of Kashmir. He served as a correspondent for Daily Excelsior from Anantnag and contributed incisive articles for the newspaper’s Op-Ed pages and weekly magazine. Deeply influenced by the teachings of Shri Ramakrishna Paramhansa and Swami Vivekananda, his life was guided by their ideals of selfless service and social reform.

Early Life and Legacy

Born in 1932 into a middle-class family, Pandit Prem Nath Bhat, affectionately known as “Bhat Sahab,” completed his education at Amar Singh College and S.P. College in Srinagar. A gifted debater and dedicated social worker, he was actively involved in community welfare from a young age. To honor his memory and the sacrifices of other martyrs, the Kashmiri Pandit community observes December 27 as Chetna Divas annually. The Prem Nath Bhat Memorial Trust continues to lead efforts for the passage of the Temples and Shrine Bill while also acknowledging the contributions of journalists through an annual award in Shri Prem Nath Bhat’s name.

To read another story about P N Bhat, Click Here:

Dr J. N. Bhan: The Mind That Built Jammu University

(Kashmir Rechords Exclusive)

In an age when institutions were shaped not by committees but by conviction, Dr J N Bhan stood tall as a rare, multi-dimensional intellectual. Today’s generation of teachers and students may scarcely know his name, yet for those who witnessed his era, he was the very definition of an ideal academic: a revered teacher, a profound economist, a visionary administrator and a principled public intellectual.

He was the first Vice-Chancellor of the University of Jammu, appointed in 1969, and one of the principal architects of higher education in the region. His life’s journey—from pre-Partition Kashmir classrooms to London’s academic corridors, and finally to institution-building in Jammu—reads like a quiet epic of dedication.

Roots in Kashmir, Values for Life

Born in 1915 into a conservative Kashmiri Pandit family, Dr Bhan was raised in the traditions, discipline and cultural ethos of the time. His early education at SP High School Srinagar laid a strong foundation, after which he joined SP College Srinagar, graduating in 1936.

Even as a student, he was far from cloistered in books alone. He actively participated in the anti-communalism movement led by Kashyap Bandhu, reflecting an early moral clarity that would define his life. This engagement also brought him close to thinkers such as Prem Nath Bazaz, placing him firmly within the progressive intellectual currents of pre-Partition Kashmir.

The Making of a Scholar

Dr Bhan pursued his post-graduation in Economics in Delhi, earning distinction and later expanded his academic breadth with postgraduate degrees in History and Political Science—a rare interdisciplinary depth for his time.

Returning to Kashmir, he joined SP College Srinagar as a Lecturer in Economics and History, serving from 1938 to 1946. His classroom reputation grew quickly: lucid, rigorous and inspiring; he was already being spoken of as a teacher who shaped minds, not merely syllabi.

London Years: Academia and Diplomacy

In 1946, Dr Bhan travelled to London to pursue his doctorate in Economics. These years proved formative in more ways than one. Alongside academic work, he served as Assistant Press Attaché to the Indian High Commission in the UK, gaining first-hand exposure to diplomacy and international affairs.

During this period, he came into close contact with P. N. Haksar and Khushwant Singh, relationships that broadened his intellectual horizons and deepened his understanding of India’s place in the world.

Return to J&K: Scholar-Administrator Emerges

In 1951, Dr Bhan was recalled by the government led by Sheikh Mohammad Abdullah and appointed Professor and Head, Department of Economics at GGM Science College Jammu.

A brief but telling episode followed in 1953, when he was asked to succeed J. N. Zutshi as Director General of Information and Broadcasting. Disillusioned by internal squabbles, Dr Bhan chose principle over position, returning to academia by joining the Education Department as Secretary—a decision that revealed his deep aversion to politicised dysfunction.

A University Builder, Not Just a Vice-Chancellor

In September 1957, Dr Bhan joined the University of Jammu & Kashmir as Professor and Head, Department of Economics. His administrative acumen soon became evident, as  in 1963, he was appointed Pro-Vice-Chancellor and in 1969, became the first Vice-Chancellor of the newly established University of Jammu.

He famously described the creation of the University as the “fulfilment of a genuine demand of the people of Jammu.” To him, it was not merely an institution—but a promise to future generations.

Dr Bhan’s love for the University of Jammu was profound and personal. He nurtured it in its infancy—laying academic standards, shaping departments, and fostering a culture of integrity and scholarship.

Beyond administration, he remained a hands-on academic. University archives and PhD bibliographies record him as a research supervisor, underscoring his commitment to mentoring young scholars and strengthening research-led teaching in Jammu & Kashmir.

A brilliant orator, a measured thinker and a man of unwavering values, Dr Bhan commanded respect without demanding it. Students admired his clarity, colleagues trusted his judgment and the academic community recognised his quiet authority.

After retirement, he continued public service as a member of the State Planning Board, bringing economic insight to policy formulation.

The Day Jammu Stood Still

On May 31, 1990, Dr J. N. Bhan passed away at his Gandhi Nagar residence in Jammu, following a massive heart attack. He was 75 and had been in fragile health for several months.

Such was the esteem in which he was held that the University of Jammu closed for the day—a rare institutional tribute—honouring the man who had built it brick by brick, principle by principle.

Dr Bhan’s legacy did not fade with time. In September 2012, the University of Jammu instituted the Prof. J. N. Bhan Memorial Lecture Series in Economics—a formal recognition of his foundational role in shaping economic thought and higher education in the region.

Dr J. N. Bhan’s life stands as a reminder that universities are not merely built by funds or files, but by vision, scholarship, and character. He remains remembered as a nation-builder in the classroom, a statesman in administration, a mentor to generations and a man who served without noise, ambition or compromise.

In nurturing the University of Jammu in its earliest days, Dr Bhan ensured that his own life would become inseparable from the institution’s history—a legacy that continues to inspire, quietly yet enduringly.

Digital Silence: How J&K’s Migrant Property Portal Fails Kashmiri Pandits

(Kashmir Rechords Desk)

In Jammu and Kashmir, official websites seem to be no longer instruments of governance. They are props. Launched with ceremony, left to rot without accountability, they exist to create an illusion of care while delivering administrative indifference. For displaced Kashmiri Pandits—people already stripped of homes, dignity and decades of security—this digital apathy is not a minor inconvenience. It is cruelty by design.

When governments speak of Digital Governance and citizen services, citizens expect access, transparency and resolution. What they receive instead, in Jammu and Kashmir, is something far more disturbing: digital deceit masquerading as reform.

A Portal Meant to Heal, Turned into a Weapon of Neglect

The Kashmir Migrants Immovable Properties/Community Assets Related Grievance Redressal System, launched under the Department of Disaster Management, Relief, Rehabilitation and Reconstruction (DMRRR), was projected as a lifeline for displaced Kashmiri Pandits—a long-awaited mechanism to reclaim properties lost to violence, encroachment and abandonment.

Today, that portal stands exposed as a hollow shell.

Months after its launch, the system remains functionally dead. Complaints cannot be filed. Grievances cannot be submitted. And accountability remains nowhere in sight. What was advertised as empowerment has devolved into one of the most callous administrative failures in the Union Territory.

This failure is neither unknown nor undocumented.

On October 23, 2025, Kashmir Rechords published a detailed report (https://kashmir-rechords.com/digital-betrayal-how-jk-governments-grievance-portal-cheats-kashmiri-pandits/) exposing the portal’s dysfunction, tagging the Lieutenant Governor’s administration and even the Raj Bhavan. The response from the authorities has been chillingly predictable: absolute silence.

In a democracy, silence in the face of documented suffering is not neutrality. It is complicity.

The Cruelty of an Unsent OTP

The real story begins where governance collapses—at the moment a displaced migrant tries to file a grievance.

The portal demands OTP verification on email before submission. Migrants comply, entering exhaustive personal details and property records—often tied to memories of homes they were forced to flee over three decades ago.

But the OTP never arrives.

The process stops mid-way. The complaint remains unsubmitted. Hours of emotional and administrative labour vanish into a digital void.

This is not a technical oversight. This is systemic indifference encoded into software.

As anguished netizens observed: “This is not a glitch. It is deliberate negligence—a mockery of an already battered community.”

Developed and hosted by the Jammu and Kashmir e-Governance Agency (JaKeGA), this portal functions less as a grievance redressal system and more as a bureaucratic dead end. It absorbs hope, records nothing, and resolves even less.

For a government that repeatedly claims commitment to the rehabilitation of Kashmiri Pandits, this portal exposes a disturbing truth: the rhetoric is alive, but the responsibility is dead.

A Helpline That Cannot Be Called

If the broken OTP is insult enough, the so-called helpline seals the deception.

The prominently displayed number—0191-2956285—is invalid. Non-functional. Repeated calls return a robotic verdict: This number is invalid. Truecaller vaguely identifies it as a “Kashmir Helpline Jammu Property,” a label that mocks the very idea of assistance.

A dead helpline is not an error. It is a confession.

The portal assures applicants that “the concerned District Magistrate will contact the applicant.” In reality, not a single migrant reports receiving a call, an email, or even an acknowledgment.

Responses to Kashmir Rechords’ October 23 exposé tell a uniform story: no response, no communication, no redress—despite public tagging of the highest constitutional offices in the UT.

A grievance portal that prevents grievances from being filed is not governance—it is state-sponsored silence. It offers visibility without voice, access without outcome, and promises without presence.

This is not merely a broken website.
It is a broken promise.
And for a community still waiting to return home, it is yet another reminder that exile has now been digitised.

When Mufti Sayeed Ordered a Ban on  Kashmiri Pandit Exodus in April 1990!

(Kashmir Rechords Exclusive)

It may sound startling now, but history records a moment when the Union Government formally ordered that the migration of Kashmiri Pandits from the Valley be stopped. Even more strikingly, those who had already fled were expected to return to Kashmir—not to resettle elsewhere, but to live inside protected camps within the Valley itself.

This extraordinary directive came on April 29, 1990, announced by none other than Mufti Mohammad Sayeed, then India’s Union Home Minister, barely a few months after the community’s mass displacement had shaken the Nation.

During his two-day visit to Jammu, Mufti Mohammad Sayeed  had instructed the then Jammu and Kashmir administration to prevent any further migration of Kashmiri Pandits with immediate effect. The directive was unambiguous: the exodus from Kashmir had to stop.

Addressing a press conference before returning to Delhi, Mufti  had made it clear that the Centre did not favour relocating Pandits to Jammu or elsewhere outside the Valley. Instead, he directed the government to establish secure, well-protected camps within Kashmir for vulnerable members of the community.

“There is no point in permitting them to migrate to Jammu,” the Home Minister said during the press conference, pointing to the lack of adequate facilities there—particularly in the harsh summer months.

Newspaper Report dated April 29, 1990, quoting Home Minister Mufti Mohd Sayeed on migration of Kashmiri Pandits

Kashmir Rechords, by reproducing the newspaper clipping of April 30, 1990, seeks to preserve this largely forgotten record—not to reopen old wounds, but to document a critical truth: that the Kashmiri Pandit exodus was never officially intended to be permanent, and that at a crucial moment, the Indian State attempted—however imperfectly—to halt it.

Pandits as ‘Soft Targets’—Yet Asked to Stay

Mufti  had acknowledged what many already feared: Kashmiri Pandits had become “soft targets” for militant groups, amid a sharp rise in targeted killings. Yet, rather than allowing people to flee, his solution was containment and protection within the Valley.

The idea was like this:
Pandits would be settled in protected zones, guarded by security forces, rather than dispersed outside their homeland.

Newspapers of the time prominently quoted the Home Minister lamenting that Pandits lodged in camps in Jammu were living without even basic essentials—“without cots and necessities”—arguing that migration to places unprepared to support them only worsened their suffering. Yet a section of Pandit leadership of that time opposed and assailed Mufti for his order to ban exodus of Pandits from Kashmir.

Jagmohan’s Earlier Appeal—and the Community’s Rejection

Mufti’s proposal was not entirely new. Just weeks earlier, on March 7, 1990, then Governor Jagmohan had  too publicly floated a similar idea. He had appealed to Kashmiri Pandits not to leave the Valley and urged those who had already fled to return, assuring them full protection in camps to be set up at district headquarters.

That proposal, too, met with strong resistance from the displaced community, which viewed the idea of protected camps inside a hostile environment with deep suspicion and fear. Security concerns, coupled with the trauma of recent killings, led many Pandit leaders to outright reject the plan. Jagmohan’s appeal, however, had  came at a time when the community was deeply traumatised. Targeted killings, intimidation and nightly slogans had shattered trust. For many Pandits, the idea of returning to live in camps inside the Valley—however protected on paper—appeared unsafe and psychologically untenable.

Why the Plan Never Took Off?

What emerges from these two interventions—Jagmohan’s appeal in March and Mufti Sayeed’s directive in April—is a rare moment of policy convergence. For a brief period in 1990, Raj Bhavan and the Union Home Ministry were aligned in their assessment that the displacement of Kashmiri Pandits was not meant to become permanent. Both believed the situation could be stabilised, camps secured, and the community retained—or brought back—within the Valley.

That moment, however, proved fleeting.

The proposals never moved beyond intent. Security conditions continued to deteriorate, fear deepened and opposition from within the displaced community hardened. In May 1990, Governor Jagmohan was replaced, bringing an abrupt end to his initiative. By November 10, 1990, Mufti Mohammad Sayeed ceased to be Home Minister. With the departure of both principal actors, the policy lost institutional backing and quietly faded from public discourse.

What was once imagined as a short-term dislocation, possibly resolved by the summer of 1990, has now stretched into over 36 years of displacement. The subject of sending migrants back by 1990, remains one of the most under-reported and least discussed episodes of the Kashmiri Pandit tragedy—raising uncomfortable questions about policy, preparedness and the chasm between intention and outcome.

History often remembers outcomes. It rarely remembers intentions that failed.

This is one such intention—recorded in ink, buried in archives and largely erased from public memory.

When Indira Gandhi announced liberation of Bangladesh!

(Kashmir Rechords Exclusive)

It was on December 16, 1971… The Parliament was in session… Around 5.30 pm, Prime Minister Mrs Indira Gandhi, while walking briskly to the packed House, had announced amidst thunderous cheers in the Parliament the unconditional surrender of the West Pakistani occupation forces and the liberation of Bangladesh.

The House had gone into delirious joy and cheered almost every word and sentence of the Prime Minister’s announcement. ‘Dacca is now the Capital of a free Country…..The West Pakistani forces have unconditionally surrendered….’’, Mrs Gandhi had made the historic announcement.

A PTI news, carried by various newspapers across India, including in  Jammu and Kashmir, had quoted the Prime Minister announcing that the “Instrument of Surrender was signed at 1631 hours by Lt. Gen A. A. K Niazi on behalf of the Pakistan Eastern Command. Lieutenant General Jagjit Singh Arora, Commander of the Indian and Bangladesh Forces in the Eastern Sector accepted the surrender’’.

Prime Minister Indira Gandhi’s speech in the Parliament on the liberation of Dhaka

In her brief speech, the Prime Minister had hailed the people of Bangladesh in their hour of triumph. “We hail the brave young men and boys of the Mukti Bahini. ‘We are proud of our Army, Navy and Air Force (cheers) and our Border Security Forces (cheers) who have magnificently demonstrated their quality and capacity’’, Mrs Gandhi said.

Significance of Vijay Diwas

It is in the backdrop of this historical reality that every year on December 16,  India marks the Day as `Vijay Diwas’, a solemn occasion that signifies India’s triumph over Pakistan in the 1971 war, which eventually led to the birth of Bangladesh. This day serves as a reminder of the sacrifices made and the courage displayed by the soldiers who played a pivotal role in this historic event. It also debunked the two-nation theory propounded by Ali Mohd Jinnah.

The India-Pakistan 13-Day war over the then East Pakistan had started on December 3, 1971, and culminated in the surrender of Pakistan’s Eastern Command to the joint forces of India and Bangladesh. This decisive moment resulted in the liberation of East Pakistan, now known as Bangladesh, establishing it as an independent Nation.

Signing of Instrument of Surrender.

The Indian Military, under the leadership of General Sam Manekshaw, had played a commendable role in providing strategic direction, ensuring victory alongside the Mukti Bahini—Bangladeshi freedom fighters.

Lt Gen J S Arora inspecting a division of Pakistani soldiers who had surrendered at Dhaka on Dec 16, 1971

Death for the idea of Pakistan

It was a death blow for Pakistan on December 16, 1971. Born in hatred and blood, on August 14, 1947, the idea died in the same hatred and blood. Its two wings, separated by more than 1600 kilometers and kept together only by the tenuous ties of religion, were cut. Along with it the two Nation theory propounded by Mohammad Ali Jinnah got exploded, proving within one generation, that religion cannot form the sole or even the predominant basis of Nationhood.

Zarb-e-Momin and the Kashmir Mirage!

(Kashmir Rechords Report)

It was December 1989 when Pakistan launched its biggest-ever military exercise, Zarb-e-Momin, creating an imaginary war-like situation under a carefully crafted plan that pitted two fictional countries against each other: Fox Land, representing India and Blue Land, representing Pakistan. The exercise was no innocent drill; it was designed with a calculated and rather sinister purpose—to portray India before the world as the “aggressor,” and to send a powerful psychological signal to Kashmiri militants that Pakistan was fully behind them, ready to take on India and assured of victory regardless of India’s strength.

Zarb-e-Momin did not arise in isolation. It was, in fact, the psychological follow-up to an earlier covert strategy: Operation Topac, conceived in the late 1980s under General Zia-ul-Haq. Operation Topac formed the backbone of Pakistan’s proxy-war blueprint in Kashmir. Its hidden strategy was straightforward but devastating: ignite separatist sentiment, arm and train Kashmiri youth and foreign fighters and internationalise the Kashmir issue by projecting the unrest as a spontaneous people’s uprising rather than a Pakistan-backed intervention.

As this covert programme expanded, Kashmir further slipped rapidly into full-scale insurgency around 1988–89. Groups such as the `JKLF’ and later more hardline Islamist organisations, took up arms. Pakistan’s training camps, infiltration routes, weapons supply and sanctuary across the Line of Control transformed local anger into a structured militant movement. The proxy war had stepped out of the shadows and onto the streets of the Valley.

It was precisely at this moment of peak volatility that Pakistan unveiled Zarb-e-Momin. Officially, it was a military simulation to test Pakistan Army’s “offensive defence” doctrine and its integration with the Air Force. But to militants in the Valley, and to many ordinary Kashmiris, the exercise conveyed something far more potent: the impression that Pakistan was preparing not just to support them covertly but to stand behind them with tanks, fighter jets and massive troop strength.

The Pakistani press of the time went out of its way to reinforce this illusion. On December 10, 1989, newspapers dramatically reported that Pakistan’s “full-scale war exercise” had entered its crucial phase. They described how, at dawn, “Fox Land” (clearly India) had launched an “offensive” in the Chor, Rahim Yar Khan and Bahawalpur sectors to seize strategic territory from “Blue Land” (Pakistan). According to these reports, Fox Land had deployed sizeable infantry formations supported by armoured units. Blue Land was shown as retaliating with force and brilliance, outsmarting the aggressor and demonstrating superior military capability.

This psychological theatre was not restricted to newspapers. Pakistan Television carried continuous “war briefings” featuring the Foreign Minister Sahabzada Yaqub Khan, the Minister of State for Defence, Ghulam Sarwar Cheema, the Chairman of the joint chiefs of staff, and the Army, Navy and Air Force chiefs. Two teams of journalists were despatched to “frontline positions” to file dramatic field reports. Representatives from over twenty countries were invited to witness what Pakistan presented as a realistic war scenario, carefully orchestrated to show India as the first attacker.

In Kashmir’s already charged environment, this spectacle had immense impact. Zarb-e-Momin became a psychological instrument—not merely a military rehearsal but a promise in disguise. Militants interpreted it as a sign that Pakistan’s regular army was preparing to intervene if the insurgency gained momentum. Many young Kashmiris genuinely believed that if they “held on,” Pakistan’s tanks and fighter jets, showcased on Pakistan’s national television, would one day cross the border to “liberate” them. For a generation entering militancy, it appeared that Pakistan’s State Power stood firmly behind them and that India, however strong, could ultimately be defeated.

With hindsight, that belief appears tragically misplaced. Pakistan never escalated beyond calibrated proxy warfare. No armoured columns rolled into Kashmir. No liberation offensive materialised. Zarb-e-Momin’s fiery display remained exactly that—a display. Yet the illusion it created was powerful enough to draw hundreds more into militancy, strengthening the spiral of conflict.

The psychological expectation that Pakistan cultivated—Operation Topac’s covert preparation reinforced by Zarb-e-Momin’s public theatrics—helped push Kashmir deeper into a prolonged and devastating vortex. The people of Jammu and Kashmir paid the heaviest price: decades of violence, displacement, grief, fractured communities and a lost generation.

In the end, many argue that Pakistan’s strategy amounted to selling a dream it never intended to fulfil—befooling the very population in whose name the proxy war was waged. The combination of covert promises and overt theatrics, beginning with Zarb-e-Momin in December 1989, shaped one of the darkest chapters in the region’s history.