What Kashmir needs is not the revival of obsolete slogans but the creation of new pathways rooted in dignity, education, development, and pluralism. As lawyers, thinkers, and citizens, our responsibility is to guide that transition—not hold it hostage to nostalgia.
The recent revelations by former RAW chief A.S. Dulat in his book
The Chief Minister and the Spy have once again stirred the political waters of Kashmir. His claim that Dr. Farooq Abdullah, one of the valley’s most prominent political figures, was “secretly on board” with the abrogation of Article 370 has opened up a new debate about the duplicity and ambiguity that has often clouded Kashmir’s mainstream politics.
While the National Conference (NC) has dismissed Dulat’s claims as “fictional,” the timing and substance of his account have sparked serious introspection among the people of Jammu and Kashmir. The revelation, if true, suggests a moment of silent consent or at the very least, a lack of serious resistance from some of the region’s seasoned political leaders. It raises the uncomfortable but important question: were the architects of “autonomy politics” aware of the inevitable, and did they silently walk along with New Delhi, fearing they had already lost control over the popular sentiment? The meeting between the Abdullahs and Prime Minister Narendra Modi on August 4, 2019 a day before the constitutional reorganization stands out as a powerful symbol. Even if unintended, that meeting has now become a historical footnote that seems to validate Dulat’s assertion. The question isn’t just what was discussed in that room, but what wasn’t stopped afterwards.
As a Kashmiri, I have long advocated for democratic rights, inclusive governance and peaceful resolution of issues through dialogue. However, one must also recognize the hard truth: the decades-long leadership in Jammu and Kashmir had failed to evolve a sustainable roadmap for political stability and social progress. What Article 370 became in the later years was less a shield for autonomy and more a tool for selective empowerment and dynastic control.
The Centre’s decision to abrogate Article 370 was met with anger, anxiety, and disillusionment, understandably so. But time has passed and today we are beginning to see Kashmir through a different lens. Investment is growing, infrastructure is improving and a younger generation—free from the psychological grip of separatism—is beginning to look at India as not an oppressor, but as a partner in opportunity. This shift in narrative, though still fragile, is real. We must also ask ourselves why certain political leaders—who claimed to be the sole custodians of Kashmiri identity—remained largely passive during the most significant constitutional moment in Kashmir’s modern history. Was it fear, was it fatigue, or was it simply the understanding that history was moving on? None of this is to dismiss the emotional and legal debates surrounding the abrogation. But it is time we reframe our narrative. What Kashmir needs is not the revival of obsolete slogans but the creation of new pathways rooted in dignity, education, development, and pluralism. As lawyers, thinkers, and citizens, our responsibility is to guide that transition—not hold it hostage to nostalgia.
India, for all its imperfections, offers Kashmir a space to grow. That space must be reclaimed by voices that are not drowned in the rhetoric of betrayal or nationalism, but that bridge the two with reason. The Centre’s bold move, though contentious, has disrupted a political monopoly that perhaps had outlived its purpose. What matters now is what we do with the silence that followed. Let this be a moment of political reinvention—for Kashmir and from Kashmir.
Mir Imran is an advocate and writes on law, politics and society with a liberal and reformist lens. He can be reached o nadvmirimran@gmail.com