Kashmiris Under Siege After Delhi Blast

It doesn’t take much to happen for life in Kashmir to alter overnight.

On the evening of 9 November, a car packed with explosives blew up near Delhi’s Red Fort, killing at least 13 people and injuring over 30. It was the first such explosion in the Indian capital since 2011. In the days that followed the attack, no one seemed to know exactly what had happened. Was it a suicide attack? Was it an accident? On 11 November, investigators called it a terror attack with links to Indian-occupied Kashmir. On cue, Indian forces laid siege to the valley, with every Kashmiri seen as a suspect. Our guest correspondent with this chilling dispatch.

In the name of security, Kashmir is facing yet another crackdown.

Vehicles are being stopped at almost every checkpoint.

Homes are being searched without warning.

Random cordon-and-search operations keep residents on edge day and night.

It is said around 1500 people have been detained for questioning over the blast in Delhi, of which details are scarce.

But in truth, this clampdown did not begin after the Red Fort blast.

Hours before the blast in Delhi, police said they had arrested seven men, including two Kashmiri doctors, during ‘anti-terror’ raids.

Officials claimed the arrests were connected to a separate Jaish-e-Mohammed module, saying that they had recovered 2,900 kg of explosive material, detonators, and firearms.

Police also spoke of a ‘white-collar terror ecosystem’ - a term that has been rotating over the past few years among the Indian right wing - as a way to slander academics or professionals who critique India’s policies on Kashmir.

Then, when Dr. Umar Nabi, a 35-year-old Kashmiri doctor, was connected to the incident in Delhi on 9 November, panic set in across the valley.

The nights are intimidating.

The sounds of jets above has made every moment feel even more ominous.

Without warning, without any process - as they often do - Indian authorities on Friday demolished the home belonging to Dr. Umar Nabi’s father.

Meanwhile, the crackdown against Kashmiris has stretched far beyond Kashmir.

In Gurugram near Delhi, police have compiled lists of residents from Jammu and Kashmir and of foreigners.

Families are frantically sending messages to their sons and daughters in India to lie low; to stay away from the public gaze, lest they are attacked, ridiculed or lynched.

For Kashmiris, this pattern is terrifyingly familiar. They know that such incidents in India will be used to tighten control over Kashmiris, deepen surveillance and curtail dissent. It’s the national reflex to do so.

In April this year, around 26 Indian tourists were killed in an attack in south Kashmir’s Pahalgam.

The aftermath was brutal, as many Kashmiris were targeted–harassed and assaulted– in different states across India.

Hundreds were detained in the Valley. Several homes were demolished then too.

When such incidents occur, Kashmiris know they will be immediately targeted; the collective punishment seems geared to satisfy the rage of the nation.

It doesn’t take much to happen for life in Kashmir to alter overnight.

Phones are checked, homes searched and neighbors questioned.

An entire community becomes a suspect list.

The confusion in Delhi

In Delhi, police kept shifting statements as to what exactly happened on 9 November.

Was it a suicide attack? An accident? A premature explosion? No one seemed to know.

On Thursday, when Delhi finally declared it a ‘terror incident’, officials did not explicitly explain how they reached this conclusion.

Authorities said that following a DNA test of a limb found at the site of the blast, they concluded that Dr. Umar Nabi had been driving the Hyundai i20 when it exploded in Delhi.

Police added that Umar, who was based in Haryana, had fled in the car full of explosives after learning of an ongoing anti-terror investigation. Relatives of those accused told The Wire that Umar Nabi was a “shining example of perseverance” and Muzammil Ganie [arrested during a raid] was a “kind and religious doctor”.

Still, no public evidence has been shared that directly links the Delhi explosion to the arrests made earlier in Kashmir.

Nonetheless, the crackdown in Kashmir has continued.

Jammu and Kashmir (J&K) Police have targeted the banned Jamaat-e-Islami group, conducting raids at more than 200 sites.

The police said they had confiscated ‘incriminating materials’ and digital equipment during the raids.

“These raids were carried out at the homes of individuals identified as terrorist associates and OGWs affiliated with proscribed terrorist groups, as part of ongoing investigations under the Unlawful Activities (Prevention) Act (UAPA),” the police said in their statement.

Across several districts, police also tightened their grip on online speech.

Multiple advisories warned social media users against posting or sharing “anti-national, communal, or inflammatory” content.

“It has come to notice that some social media users are posting or reacting insensitively to the recent tragic incident at the Red Fort,” Kupwara Police said.

“Such actions are deeply objectionable and anti-national, aimed at spreading hatred and disturbing public harmony.”

In Shopian, police registered a First Information Report (FIR) against a Facebook page called “Voice of Humanity” for posting what they described as “separatist sentiments”.

In other words, discussing the matter publicly or asking questions that do not suit Delhi have been rendered unlawful.

‘Spectacular attacks’

According to the police, weeks prior to the Delhi explosion, several posters appeared on house walls in Srinagar’s Nowgam area warning - in Urdu - of “spectacular attacks” on government forces and non-locals.

Police said they traced the posters to a local Imam, Moulvi Irfan, and through him, to a group of young Kashmiri doctors working in Al Falah Medical College in Faridabad, Haryana.

What began as a local probe soon expanded into a multi-state investigation.

For many Kashmiris living outside the Valley, the fear feels routine.

They now warn each other not to go out at night, to keep a low profile, and to stay out of sight.

“Each time something happens, we know what comes next, raids, detentions, profiling,” one Kashmiri resident said.

“We live between accusation and apology.”

This dispatch was produced with the kind support of Hari Sharma Foundation. Check out their work here.