It is true that the Army has not been deployed in Kashmir’s urban centres to perform police duties or to carry out work entrusted to paramilitary formations such as the BSF or the CRPF. Although separatist leaders are prone to exaggerate, the military is still in its barracks. In the specific context of Srinagar, it has come out of the Badami Bagh cantonment to stage a flag march — a bit like showing the flag — through the city’s main thoroughfares, and then gone back. The Army is not doing crowd control. It is not enforcing the curfew. It is not chasing instigated or fired-up mobs hurling missiles. And yet, it is hard to get away from the feeling that bringing troops out of the barracks even as a show of strength was not the best idea the government has had, although the circumstances were admittedly challenging.
This sends all the wrong signals internationally, and within the country as well. At a time when extremist elements are seeking to overrun Pakistan with not a little help from a section of that country’s security establishment, and when Pakistan is pointing fingers at India on the Kashmir question with the contrived argument that there would be no Islamist militancy in the absence of a Kashmir question (influential elements in the West, especially those professing to be liberals, seize on this when it is politically expedient), seeing the Army on the streets after two decades can leave some with the impression that Kashmir’s civilian population is in revolt and can only be held in check through use of the military. This is an unfortunate twisting of the tale. Anyone who is familiar with the Kashmir issue or visits the Valley knows only too well that the people are not in rebellion. What is true, however, is that a small minority — led by the separatists — has since 1947 sought to create the false impression of an insurrection. This political segment achieves success when the administration is flat-footed or unresponsive, as was the case two years ago during the Amarnath shrine board fiasco, and through episodes such as the prostitutes racket or the drowning of two women in south Kashmir. Using the religious pulpit, mob hysteria is fired. Such attempts are meant to elicit a sharp response from the security forces, and a cycle of violence is made to commence. This in turn allows free rein to separatist propaganda. In any subsequent test of political strength through the ballot (for panchayat, municipality, Assembly or Parliament), there is no trace of the so-called insurrectionary spirit.
This is now an old story. Especially since the chain of events is familiar, the state administration should have responded more imaginatively when troubles were first set in motion last month. If curfew had been imposed where needed at the first hint of mobilisation by separatist and pro-Pakistan elements, or anti-government sections among mainline parties, it is unlikely that the state would be in a state of frenzy today. But the authorities waited until 15 deaths had occurred in police firings before thinking of standard curfew procedures. While wider political costs attach to use of the Army, it appears the immediate effect has been salutary. But what if someone hurls a bomb from a side lane and a trooper fires back? What if stone-pelting commences right after the Army is called off flag-march duties? Clearly, using the military against civilians is not the answer. The military is the last line of defence and cannot be wheeled out each time the administration panics. For a start, the government must lift the unreasonable and ill-advised restrictions on the media. Round one has already gone to the separatists.