Mirror of Silence

The recent plainspeak of a separatist leader suggests that truth is not a lost cause in Kashmir. Begin with the Valley’s pattern of graves

Graveyards can tell you a lot about the politics of a place and its people. Sometimes, they also point to the truth—or absence of it. In downtown Srinagar’s Mazaar-e-Shauhda (‘martyrs’ graveyard’), the graves of those who have died in Kashmir’s two-decade-old conflict lie in neat rows, adorned with flowers of Narcissus, known locally as Yimberzal. Over the years, the graveyard has expanded to include, apart from militants and political leaders, those who fell to the bullets of security forces in relatively recent bouts of stone pelting.

Some of the names are famous. In a corner of the ground lies the grave of Mirwaiz Mohammed Farooq. An influential cleric in the Valley, he was shot dead at his residence on 21 May 1990, when militancy was at its peak in the Valley, and it was only natural that he would be laid to rest at a place reserved for martyrs. Two months later, a man called Abdullah Bangroo was killed and he too was buried in the same ground, five graves away from the former Mirwaiz’s. Nothing unusual about it, except that Bangroo, as a commander of the pro-Pakistan militant outfit Hizbul Mujahideen, was the Mirwaiz’s assassin. He had killed the cleric at the behest of his masters across the border.

In another corner of the graveyard lies buried the moderate Kashmiri separatist leader Abdul Gani Lone. He was assassinated in 2002, during a rally observing the Mirwaiz’s’s death anniversary, near the graveyard. Two years later, Lone’s assassin Rafiq Lidri, the Srinagar-based commander of militant outfit Al-Umar Mujahideen, was killed in an encounter with security forces. Again, the assassin was laid to rest next to the assassinated.

Till now, nobody in Kashmir spoke against the irony of what a senior journalist calls the equivalent of a memorial built to Indira Gandhi’s assassin Beant Singh right next to Shakti Sthal—her cremation spot and memorial in Delhi. But now, an old friend of Lone is speaking up.

On 2 January, Abdul Gani Bhat, a prominent leader of the moderate faction of the separatist group Hurriyat Conference, said that the Mirwaiz and Lone were not killed by Indian forces but by their “own people”. He was speaking at a seminar on the death anniversary of a militant ideologue, Dr Abdul Ahad Wani. Both the Mirwaiz’s son Umar Farooq and Lone’s son Bilal Lone were present, but said nothing in response. In fact, Umar, who was only 17 when he succeeded his father as Mirwaiz, spoke immediately after Bhat at the seminar but  made no reference to Bhat’s point.

Though Umar Farooq has maintained his silence on the matter, Lone’s two sons Bilal and Sajad Lone have reacted cautiously to Bhat’s plainspeak. “I must confess that I faltered at the time of my father’s death,” Bilal tells Open, “I should have spoken up at that time. But someone [has finally] had the courage to take the bull by its horns. Today, Kashmiri people need this to see things clearly.”

At the time of his father’s death, Sajad Lone, in an emotional outburst, had accused Pakistan’s ISI of his father’s killing. When the hardline pro-Pakistan separatist leader Syed Ali Shah Geelani came visiting the Lone household, he was heckled and not allowed to pay his respects to the slain leader. But Sajad Lone was soon to be forced into silence.

Tension among Kashmiri leaders on the delicate issue of assassinations have surfaced several times in the past. When Umar Farooq had attended Lidri’s funeral, Sajad had lambasted him for what he saw as his ‘hypocrisy’. In a letter, Sajad had asked Umar Farooq to clarify who the real martyr was: Lidri or Lone.

Later, Sajad even quit the Hurriyat Conference, the hardline-to-moderate coalition of separatists led by Geelani, Bhat and Umar Farooq. Today, Sajad sees Bhat’s remarks as a sign of evolving maturity on the Kashmir issue. Wrote Sajad on Facebook: ‘Prof Bhat statement yet another chance for the nation to evolve. Truth however bitter must prevail. The least we owe to the people is the right to know who killed whom.’ Speaking to Open, he says, “I wouldn’t like to say more than what I’ve said on Facebook, but thank God someone has spoken. And more than the statement, it is the way Kashmiris are responding that tells me that the Kashmir issue has matured.”

Abdul Gani Bhat, meanwhile, has stuck to his position. “I have always voiced my sentiments about innocent killings,” says he, “Even when my brother was killed [in 1995], I said our own boys have done it. The same I said about the killings of the Mirwaiz, Lone sahab and Dr Wani. So, as far as I am concerned, there is no novelty to what I said.”

The pattern of political assassinations in Kashmir has always been clear to discerning observers. Almost all killed have been those who’ve resisted a tilt towards Pakistan in their struggle. Both the Mirwaiz and Lone were silenced, says a Kashmir watcher, because pro-Pakistan elements feared that they might forge a deal with New Delhi at some point.

At the seminar where Bhat made his latest remarks, he voiced severe opposition to Geelani. This is significant because in recent years, the separatist hardliner has emerged as the most prominent face of anti-India protests in Kashmir. Last year’s street agitations, for example, followed a hartal calendar issued by him. It was a wasted effort, according to Bhat, who said that the people of Kashmir achieved nothing. “He tells us not to talk to the Government, but when parliamentarians arrive, he meets them,” said Bhat, taking Geelani on directly, “You call me an ‘infidel’ when I start any sort of negotiation. Why this contradiction?”

Prospects of the Hurriyat Conference coming closer together, clearly, are fast falling. In 2003, it underwent a sharp split after Geelani—in jail at the time—accused Bhat and other moderates of running an ineffective boycott of the state’s 2002 Assembly polls. In recent times, Umar Farooq has been trying to unite hawks with doves, an effort that Bhat rejects. “It will serve no purpose,” he says, “Our perceptions are radically different. If you are in Kashmir, you have to be wide awake to realities. There is no strategy on the other side [the hardline faction].”

So far, Bhat’s seminar remarks have evoked no response from the Geelani faction, with its spokesperson Ayaz Akbar only saying that Bhat’s words did not merit any reaction. On his part, though, Bhat is convinced that it is time for the courageous to speak their minds. “In love and war, anything can happen,” he says, “Even if they kill me, it doesn’t matter. I will be one more martyr.”

According to a separatist leader who doesn’t want to be named, Bhat’s words and the response of Kashmiris are bad signs for Pakistan. “This may also mean that now we will have to make a distinction between anti-India and pro-Pakistan sentiment,” he says, “They may not be the same in Kashmir now.”

In a place where Bangroo and Lidri lie buried as martyrs next to the Mirwaiz and Lone (“It is ironical and nothing else… in Kashmir, we shouldn’t be surprised if such ironies exist,” says Bhat of this), even a subtle shift in mood matters.

In his poem, The Country without a Post Office, the celebrated Kashmiri poet Agha Shahid Ali wrote:

‘Everything is finished, nothing remains’

I must force silence to be a mirror /to see his voice again for directions. /Fire runs in waves. Should I cross that river?

For Kashmir, the hope is that not everything is finished, something remains. And that Bhat’s voice becomes a mirror for those who stay silent. And gives them the courage to make their crossing.

About The Author

Rahul Pandita

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