The recent uproar over the placement of the national emblem on the inauguration plaque at the Hazratbal shrine has once again reminded us how fragile Kashmir’s socio-religious landscape remains and how easily symbolic gestures can ignite passions. Hazratbal is not just another mosque in Srinagar; it is the most revered shrine in Jammu and Kashmir, carrying both spiritual and emotional weight for millions of people. In such a sensitive setting, even the smallest of decisions must be guided by cultural sensitivity and collective wisdom.
The decision to place the emblem inside the shrine complex was perhaps unnecessary. Shrines, mosques, temples, gurdwaras are spaces of worship in any faith derive their sanctity from the idea of transcendence. They are designed to rise above politics, power or representation of statehood. Neither do temples nor gurdwaras bear national emblems inside their sanctuaries. The Hazratbal shrine too could have been spared of such symbolism.
Yet, it would be unjust to overlook the larger achievement of the Waqf Board under the leadership of its chairperson, Dr. Darakshan Andrabi. After five decades, the Hazratbal shrine has witnessed meaningful renovation and restoration in record time. This work significant in itself deserves acknowledgment. Development of sacred spaces when done with sincerity has the power to nurture both faith and collective pride.
But words matter as much as actions. Dr. Darakashan Andrabi’s angry description of the vigilantes who vandalized the emblem as “terrorists” blurred the distinction between vandalism and terrorism. This language risks alienating a population already wounded by stretched conflict. The wiser course would have been to condemn the act firmly while extending a hand to those aggrieved by listening, engaging and guiding them toward lawful redress. After all, the individuals who damaged the plaque not only disrespected the sanctity of emblem but also the dignity of the Hazratbal Dargah. There were many legitimate avenues through which they could have expressed their dissent, yet unfortunately they chose destruction instead.
The political response, particularly from the National Conference, also deserves reflection. MLA Tanvir Sadiq argued that the installation of a sculpted emblem in a shrine violates the principle of Tawheed, Islam’s most foundational tenet. His concern is valid here as sacred spaces must reflect spiritual purity. At the same time, this disagreement could have been raised at the inauguration itself, perhaps by the clerics and scholars present there with Darakshan Andrabi, rather than after the controversy erupted. A respectful intervention at that stage might have prevented the situation from spiraling.
What followed, however, was equally telling. While the valley saw almost thirty arrests and public outcry, mainland India debates were quick to brand Kashmiris as intolerant, hotheaded and unwilling to accommodate the symbols of the nation. Such sweeping portrayals ignore the double standards in our public discourse. Across India, acts of vandalism or communal provocation occur daily, often targeting places of worship of a particular faith, yet these are brushed aside with silence or rationalization because that doesn’t fit the X and prime time shows to debate. When it happens in Kashmir, it is magnified into a national spectacle, painting an entire population in dark strokes which is a grave disregard.
This selective outrage undermines trust. It makes kashmiris feel scrutinized for their every reaction while their grievances are sidelined. At a time when integration and healing are most needed, this approach risks deepening alienation rather than bridging divides.
Now, with arrests already made, the Waqf Board has an opportunity to lead with restraint. Rather than pressing for harsh legal actions, Dr. Andrabi could play a reconciliatory role. Counseling and dialogue would not only defuse tensions but also distinguish between misguided vandalism and genuine terrorism. In a region where countless young men languish in jails under various pretexts, drawing a line between crime and terrorism is critical for justice.
Finally, there is a lesson here about the very idea of commemorative plaques and foundation stones. True work speaks for itself. Sheikh Abdullah, the main architect of modern Kashmir who laid the foundation of Hazratbal, left no stone bearing his name. Sacred spaces do not need plaques or symbols of power; they need care, reverence and sincerity. When good work is done, people recognize it without the need for inscriptions, garlands or emblems.
The debate should end here now. Not in bitterness but in introspection. Kashmir needs leaders and institutions whether political or religious, to work together rather than against each other. When every institution complements the other, prosperity follows. Hazratbal’s renovation could have been remembered purely as an act of service to faith and people. Instead, it has turned into a regional and national controversy. The lesson is clear: sensitivity must guide every decision in Kashmir, for here symbols carry deeper meaning than anywhere else.
(Author is an academician and can be reached at minya.tufail92@gmail.com)





