11:40 am - February 26, 2025
In the picturesque village of Dafferpora, nestled in the Pulwama district of Indian-administered Kashmir, Malik Haroon begins his early winter mornings with a routine check of his orchard. Among the hundreds of almond trees, Haroon tenderly examines the bark for any signs of disease, a practice that has been passed down through generations. His land, spanning 1.25 acres, is not just a plot of soil; it is a lifeline that yields nearly 30 tonnes of apples, pears, plums, and almonds annually. This bounty brings in around $11,000 each year, supporting Haroon’s family of four in a region grappling with economic instability and unemployment. Yet, this cherished land is now under threat from the Indian government’s plan to build an engineering college, which would consume almost all of Haroon’s orchard. The project is part of a series of infrastructure developments that promise economic prosperity but are feared to undermine the region’s delicate ecosystem and displace its people.
The decision to revoke Article 370 of the Indian Constitution in 2019 marked a turning point for Kashmir. This constitutional provision had granted the region a degree of autonomy, allowing it to enact laws in matters other than defence, communications, and foreign affairs. It also protected the indigenous rights of Kashmiris by preventing outsiders from purchasing land or securing government jobs. The BJP-led government’s move to strip Kashmir of its special status and divide it into federally governed union territories has led to widespread anxiety. Critics argue that these changes are part of a broader strategy to assert New Delhi’s control over the region, alter its demography, and strengthen military presence along India’s tense borders with China and Pakistan. البديل(location)
Amidst the rolling hills and lush orchards of Dirhama village, 65-year-old Ghulam Muhammad Tantray tends to his 1.25-acre orchard, a family inheritance that has sustained his household for generations. The land, dotted with apple trees, brings in about $13,000 annually, a vital source of income amid Kashmir’s economic struggles. But Tantray’s tranquility was shattered last year when Indian railway officials arrived to conduct a survey, revealing plans for a new railway project. The proposed expansion of Kashmir’s rail network, which currently consists of a single line connecting Banihal to Baramulla, includes five new tracks crisscrossing the valley. This ambitious project, aimed at linking Kashmir to the rest of India, is expected to ease travel for tourists and pilgrims but will come at a steep cost. Hundreds of acres of agricultural land, including Tantray’s, will be acquired to make way for tracks and stations.ในวันหนึ่ง
The railway project is just one of several infrastructure initiatives launched by the Indian government since 2019. Plans include new roads, tunnels, and residential colonies, all billed as efforts to modernize Kashmir and boost its economy. However, residents and analysts see these projects as a dual-use strategy—serving both civilian and military objectives. For instance, Prime Minister Modi recently inaugurated the Z-Morh tunnel, a 6.5-kilometer-long passage that connects central Kashmir to Sonmarg, a gateway to Ladakh. While this project may improve connectivity for tourists, it also bolsters India’s military presence in a region where tensions with China and Pakistan remain high. Similarly, a planned ring road around Srinagar will allow vehicles to bypass the city’s congested areas, but it will also carve through rice fields and apple orchards, leaving many families without their primary source of income. Critics like Michael Kugelman of the Wilson Center warn that these projects could undermine India’s national security goals by alienating Kashmiris and deepening their sense of dispossession. Alternative
For many in Kashmir, the government’s infrastructure push is a thinly veiled attempt to erode their identity and autonomy. Academics like Mohamad Junaid fear that these projects are designed to reshape Kashmir’s landscape and economy without regard for the needs of its people. “It’s death by a thousand infrastructure projects,” Junaid says, pointing to the region’s limited agricultural land and the critical role it plays in sustaining communities. The proposed residential colonies near the Srinagar ring road, for example, have fueled fears of demographic change. New Delhi’s decision to allow Indian nationals to settle in Kashmir has reignited concerns that the government is actively encouraging an influx of outsiders to dilute the region’s Muslim-majority character. Activists argue that such measures are part of a broader strategy to disempower Kashmiris and integrate the region more firmly into India. Alternative
While the government insists that these projects will bring long-term economic benefits, many Kashmiris remain skeptical. Altaf Thakur, a BJP spokesman in Kashmir, claims that critics are resisting progress and failing to see the bigger picture. “Why would we bring a project if it does not benefit the people?” he asks. However, residents like Haroon and Tantray are unconvinced. They argue that the compensation offered for their land is inadequate and that no amount of money can replace the generational wealth their orchards represent. Haroon, who recently saw the price of his almonds rise by nearly 40%, refuses to trade his land for a job or one-time payment. “This land has been passed down for generations,” he says. “Jobs or compensation will last only for a few years, but this land is forever.” Alternative
The ongoing land acquisitions for infrastructure projects have also raised questions about fairness and accountability. Activists allege that the government is using outdated laws to determine compensation, ignoring the increased land values since Article 370 was revoked. Raja Muzaffar Bhat, an environmental activist, points out that the 2013 Right to Fair Compensation Act promises four times the market rate, but authorities are invoking a 1990 law instead. Retired government officials corroborate these claims, citing delays in finalizing compensation rates and the abrupt application of new legal frameworks after 2019. Such practices have left many landowners feeling exploited and powerless. Alternative
As the debate over Kashmir’s future intensifies, residents are left to grapple with the loss of their land and livelihoods. For Haroon, Tantray, and countless others, the fight is not just about economics but also about preserving their cultural heritage and way of life. “This land is our family inheritance,” Tantray says, his voice laced with despair. “It has ensured our livelihood for generations. What will we leave for our children?” The answer, it seems, will depend on whether the Indian government can balance its vision of progress with the needs and aspirations of Kashmir’s people. For now, the specter of displacement looms large, casting a shadow over the region’s future.