Why is India so scared of my book on Kashmir that it has banned it?
As the sixth anniversary approached, the region was caught in the grip of rumours of a probable further division, or other administrative changes. Reports of unusual jet activity over Srinagar triggered widespread panic among residents.
This evoked harrowing memories of similar aerial activity coupled with a similarly bizarre set of rumours in the tense days leading up to August 5, 2019. People waited anxiously.
The bombshell that came on the sixth anniversary was an official order banning 25 books that focus on Jammu and Kashmir's history and politics – all accused of promoting 'false narratives' and 'secessionism' – a sweeping judgement that does not stand the test of scrutiny and is not based on any evidence.
My book A Dismantled State: The Untold Story of Kashmir After Article 370, published in December 2022 by HarperCollins, is one of them. The book is a rare chronicle of the day-to-day reality in Jammu and Kashmir after 2019. Based on ground research, extensive interviews and the collation of data from other primary and secondary sources, it punctured the Indian government's claims of 'normalcy' in Jammu and Kashmir.
The government justified the actions of August 5, 2019 on the grounds that they would usher in peace and development in the region, while glossing over the unprecedented physical and cyber-restrictions imposed across the erstwhile state, during which thousands of people, including pro-India politicians (three former chief ministers included), were arrested. Barbed wire and military barricades turned the region, particularly the Kashmir Valley, into a curfewed zone, and communication channels – from internet to telephone lines – were pushed into some black hole.
Six months later, when some of these restrictions were slightly eased and the internet was partially restored, the stranglehold of the Indian state became even more oppressive, with an exacerbation of raids and crackdowns against journalists, political and social activists, and civil rights defenders. The policy of widespread detentions under laws like the Public Safety Act, which allows the government to detain anyone without charge for up to two years, was ramped up significantly.
These realities were hardly ever reported. Journalism was severely curtailed under the state's clampdown, particularly affecting local publications. Newspapers that refused to fall in line were choked financially until they were out of print. Those that did comply were rewarded with lavish government advertisements that kept the businesses going, minus the journalism.
Either co-opted or terrorised, the newspapers were no longer daily chroniclers of the events, developments and incidents in the region. Community voices were silenced while journalists no longer asked questions. The rich archives of some newspapers, showcasing the complex day-to-day history of the region, became inaccessible or were removed.
In the last six years, the government has been extremely intolerant of any criticism. Any word of dissent invites punitive measures ranging from mere intimidation and interrogation to confiscation of devices, and from the slapping of income tax and money laundering cases to terrorism accusations, sometimes accompanied by short detentions or prolonged arrests. While local journalism was reduced to an extension of the government's public relations department, all civil society voices were throttled by intimidation, leaving major gaps in information.
It was this vacuum that my book aimed to fill. Focused on the first two years of the revocation of Article 370, and in 12 chapters, I documented what was happening on the ground – the increased suppression of the masses, the lack of space for freedom of expression, the shrinking space for civil society and political activism, the criminalisation of dissent, the continuation of terrorism as opposed to the claims of peace and normalcy, and the hollowness of the development claims by the government even as the new policies and actions robbed the people of their homes and agricultural lands.
The book is a pursuit of truth – the naked truth, which challenged everything the Indian state was saying. A paranoid state whose only method of engagement in Jammu and Kashmir is through increasing its military footprint, merciless subjugation of the residents and silencing of all voices of dissent was obviously uncomfortable with what I documented. The book was a warning to the government that its methods of control, creation of a police and surveillance state, and misplaced development models were unsustainable and would fail.
In the last six years, the government has been pulling the wool over the eyes of the world by trumpeting its achievements of bringing peace, normalcy, tourism and development. The April 22 killings this year of 26 innocent civilians punctured this bubble. It was a wake-up call for the government to sit back and review its policies in Kashmir and begin course correction.
Instead, it clamped down even further with a horrific scale of demonisation of Kashmiris, ruthless detentions and even more brutal demolitions of houses. This, even as there was widespread public condemnation of terrorism, including vigils and calls to reject violence – something unprecedented in the more than three-decade-long history of rebellion in the region – and even as the investigators indicated foreign militants, not locals, were involved in the killings.
In the last three months, the government has demonstrated that its policy of control through harsh security measures and pervasive surveillance would be further accelerated. The ban on 25 books, many of which provide rich, well-researched, and layered historical, political and legal narratives about the complex and trouble-torn region, is an extension of the pattern. Through this ban, there is an attempt to erase every trace of a counter-narrative and alternate memory.
By branding all criticism of the state and narratives that are out of sync with the official version as 'seditious', the government can now seize and destroy these books. Not only are the written words being criminalised – even the act of reading will be wrongfully deemed a threat to the security and integrity of the nation. While this may not stop ideas and memory from being suppressed, policing what people write and read is likely to be further intensified.
Though senseless, shocking and irrational in scale and scope, the ban, which ironically coincides with a government-backed Chinar Book Festival in Srinagar, sends a chilling message: Knowledge and information will be regulated by the state. What people write and read will be decided by the state. The thought police will penetrate deeper.
Last year, during Jammu and Kashmir's first assembly elections as a Union Territory, India's home minister, Amit Shah, took a dig at the regional political parties and alleged that while 'they (local politicians) gave the youth stones in their hands', his government had given them 'books and laptops'.
The hollowness of such claims is laid bare when the daily reality is one of confiscation of digital devices, including laptops, during raids and interrogations, alongside a blanket book ban that only reinforces the central message of my work: Kashmir is anything but normal.
The views expressed in this article are the author's own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera's editorial stance.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Al Jazeera
2 days ago
- Al Jazeera
Will Trump's India tariffs shut down world's biggest cut diamond supplier?
For Kalpesh Patel, Diwali, the festival of lights celebrated across India, might well mark lights out for his eight-year-old diamond cutting and polishing unit. The 35-year-old employs about 40 workers who transform rough diamonds into perfectly polished gems for exports at the small factory in Surat, a city located in the western Indian state of Gujarat. His business has survived multiple speed bumps in recent years. But United States President Donald Trump's mammoth 50 percent tariffs on imports from India might be the final nail in the coffin for his unit, part of an already struggling natural diamond industry, he said. 'We still have some orders for Diwali and will try to complete them,' he told Al Jazeera. Diwali, arguably India's single biggest festival, scheduled for late October this year, usually sees domestic sales of most goods soar. 'But we might have to shut the business even before the festival, as exporters might cancel the orders due to high tariffs in the US,' Patesh said. 'It is becoming increasingly difficult to pay the salaries and maintain other expenses with falling orders.' He is among the 20,000-odd small and medium traders in Surat, known as the 'Diamond City of India', which together cut and polish 14 out of every 15 natural diamonds produced globally. The US is their single largest export market. According to the Gem and Jewellery Export Promotion Council (GJEPC), India's apex body for the industry, the country exported cut and polished gems worth $4.8bn to the US in the 2024-25 financial year, which ended in March. That is more than one-third of India's total exports of cut and polished diamonds, at $13.2bn over the same period. Dimpal Shah, a Kolkata-based diamond exporter, told Al Jazeera that orders have already started getting cancelled. 'Buyers in the US are refusing to offload the shipped products, citing high tariffs. This is the worst phase of my two-decade-old career in diamonds.' US imposes penalty A 25 percent reciprocal tariff on all Indian goods, which Trump announced on April 2, came into effect on August 7, after talks between the two countries failed to yield a trade deal by then. Negotiations are continuing. Meanwhile, on August 6, Trump announced an additional 25 percent tariff, taking the total tariff rate to 50 percent. He termed the additional tariff that would come into effect from August 27 as a penalty for India's continued buying of Russian oil, as the US president tries to push Moscow into accepting a ceasefire in Ukraine. For the gems industry, which already faced a pre-existing 2.1 percent tariff, the effective tariff now amounts to 52.1 percent. Ajay Srivastava, the founder of Global Research Trade Initiative (GTRI), a trade research group, termed the Trump government's additional hike as an act of 'hypocrisy', citing how the US itself continues to trade with Russia, and how China – Russia's biggest oil buyer – faces no similar penalty. 'Trump is targeting India out of frustration as it refused to toe the US line on the Russia-Ukraine conflict, and for its refusal to open its agriculture and dairy sector,' he added, referring to broader ongoing trade talks and differences over US demands for greater access to critical Indian economic sectors. Yet, whatever the reasons for Trump's tariffs, they are hurting a diamond industry already bleeding from multiple hits. Diamond sector badly hit More than 2 million people are employed in diamond polishing and cutting units in Surat, Ahmedabad and Rajkot cities in Gujarat — and many have already suffered salary cuts in recent years, first because of the COVID-19 pandemic, and then Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine. 'The pandemic led to economic slowdown affecting the international markets in Hong Kong and China,' Ramesh Zilriya, the president of Gujarat's Diamond Workers Union, told Al Jazeera. The 'Western ban on rough diamond imports from Russia due to the Russia-Ukraine war and the G7 ban on Russia also affected our business', he added. Russia has historically been a major source of raw diamonds. Zilriya claimed that 80 diamond workers have died by suicide over the past two years because of this economic crisis. 'The situation in the international market led to the wages of the workers getting halved to approximately 15,000-17,000 rupees ($194) per month, which made survival difficult in the face of rising inflation,' he said. Once the Trump tariffs fully kick in, Zilriya fears that up to 200,000 people in Gujarat may lose their livelihoods. Already, more than 120,000 former diamond sector workers have applied for benefits. A 13,500-rupee ($154) allowance per child, to support their families, was promised in May by the state government to those who have lost jobs due to the tumult in the sector in recent years. But the tariffs, pandemic and war are not alone to blame for the crisis: Lab-grown diamonds are also slowly eating into the market of their natural counterparts. 'Unlike natural [diamonds], the lab-grown diamonds are not mined but manufactured in specialised laboratories and priced at just 10 percent of the natural ones. It is difficult even for a seasoned jeweller to identify the natural and lab-grown with a naked eye. The taste of consumers is now shifting to lab-grown [diamonds], as they are cheap,' said Salim Daginawala, the president of the Surat Jewellers Association. Decline in exports In the 2024-25 financial year, India imported rough diamonds worth $10.8bn, marking a 24.27 percent decline from the $14bn imported in 2023-24, as per the statistics by the GJEPC. The exports of cut and polished natural diamonds similarly witnessed a 16.75 percent decline, with exports declining to $13.2bn in 2024-25 as compared with $16bn in the preceding year. 'This move [the tariffs] would have far-reaching repercussions on the Indian economy that might disrupt critical supply chains, stalling exports and threatening thousands of livelihoods. We hope to get a favourable reduction in tariffs; otherwise, it would be difficult to survive,' said Kirit Bhansali, the chairman of the GJEPC. The tariffs could also hurt US jewellers, warned Rajesh Rokde, the chairman of the All India Gems and Jewellery Domestic Council (GJC), a national trade federation for the industry. 'The US has around 70,000 jewellers who would also face a crisis if the jewellery becomes expensive,' Rokde added. A domestic solution? Traders say that the need of the hour is to increase domestic demand for diamonds and diversify to new markets. A stronger domestic market 'would not only contribute to the local economy, but would also create jobs for several thousands of people', said Radha Krishna Agrawal, the director of Narayan das Saraf Jewellers in Varanasi city, in the northern state of Uttar Pradesh. The tariffs, he said, could prove a 'blessing in disguise' if they end up reducing the dependence of India's gems industry 'on other countries'. Bhansali said that the domestic gems and jewellery market was growing, and expected to reach $130bn in the next two years, up from $85bn at the moment. The industry is also looking for new markets, including Latin America and the Middle East. Gold already offers an example of a strong domestic market, cushioning the impact of hits on exports, said Amit Korat, the president of the Surat Jewellery Manufacturers Association. But for now, the diamond sector in India has no such shield. It needs to be saved, urgently, said Patel, the Surat business owner on the cusp of shutting down his polishing and cutting unit. Without help, he said, 'the business will lose its shine forever'.
Al Jazeera
2 days ago
- Al Jazeera
What is Trump's Washington, DC security takeover plan?
What is Trump's Washington, DC security takeover plan? NewsFeed US President Donald Trump announced a federal takeover of Washington, DC's police and the deployment of 800 National Guard troops on Monday. He says it's needed to 'rescue' the capital from violence, but data shows crime levels have already been falling – and city leaders and residents are pushing back. Video Duration 02 minutes 51 seconds 02:51 Video Duration 00 minutes 41 seconds 00:41 Video Duration 00 minutes 28 seconds 00:28 Video Duration 03 minutes 22 seconds 03:22 Video Duration 02 minutes 03 seconds 02:03 Video Duration 00 minutes 35 seconds 00:35 Video Duration 01 minutes 12 seconds 01:12
Al Jazeera
3 days ago
- Al Jazeera
Why is India so scared of my book on Kashmir that it has banned it?
On August 5, 2019, the Indian government stripped the erstwhile Jammu and Kashmir state of its special status under Article 370 of the Indian Constitution, split it into two entities and demoted the two units to Union Territories under New Delhi's direct control. As the sixth anniversary approached, the region was caught in the grip of rumours of a probable further division, or other administrative changes. Reports of unusual jet activity over Srinagar triggered widespread panic among residents. This evoked harrowing memories of similar aerial activity coupled with a similarly bizarre set of rumours in the tense days leading up to August 5, 2019. People waited anxiously. The bombshell that came on the sixth anniversary was an official order banning 25 books that focus on Jammu and Kashmir's history and politics – all accused of promoting 'false narratives' and 'secessionism' – a sweeping judgement that does not stand the test of scrutiny and is not based on any evidence. My book A Dismantled State: The Untold Story of Kashmir After Article 370, published in December 2022 by HarperCollins, is one of them. The book is a rare chronicle of the day-to-day reality in Jammu and Kashmir after 2019. Based on ground research, extensive interviews and the collation of data from other primary and secondary sources, it punctured the Indian government's claims of 'normalcy' in Jammu and Kashmir. The government justified the actions of August 5, 2019 on the grounds that they would usher in peace and development in the region, while glossing over the unprecedented physical and cyber-restrictions imposed across the erstwhile state, during which thousands of people, including pro-India politicians (three former chief ministers included), were arrested. Barbed wire and military barricades turned the region, particularly the Kashmir Valley, into a curfewed zone, and communication channels – from internet to telephone lines – were pushed into some black hole. Six months later, when some of these restrictions were slightly eased and the internet was partially restored, the stranglehold of the Indian state became even more oppressive, with an exacerbation of raids and crackdowns against journalists, political and social activists, and civil rights defenders. The policy of widespread detentions under laws like the Public Safety Act, which allows the government to detain anyone without charge for up to two years, was ramped up significantly. These realities were hardly ever reported. Journalism was severely curtailed under the state's clampdown, particularly affecting local publications. Newspapers that refused to fall in line were choked financially until they were out of print. Those that did comply were rewarded with lavish government advertisements that kept the businesses going, minus the journalism. Either co-opted or terrorised, the newspapers were no longer daily chroniclers of the events, developments and incidents in the region. Community voices were silenced while journalists no longer asked questions. The rich archives of some newspapers, showcasing the complex day-to-day history of the region, became inaccessible or were removed. In the last six years, the government has been extremely intolerant of any criticism. Any word of dissent invites punitive measures ranging from mere intimidation and interrogation to confiscation of devices, and from the slapping of income tax and money laundering cases to terrorism accusations, sometimes accompanied by short detentions or prolonged arrests. While local journalism was reduced to an extension of the government's public relations department, all civil society voices were throttled by intimidation, leaving major gaps in information. It was this vacuum that my book aimed to fill. Focused on the first two years of the revocation of Article 370, and in 12 chapters, I documented what was happening on the ground – the increased suppression of the masses, the lack of space for freedom of expression, the shrinking space for civil society and political activism, the criminalisation of dissent, the continuation of terrorism as opposed to the claims of peace and normalcy, and the hollowness of the development claims by the government even as the new policies and actions robbed the people of their homes and agricultural lands. The book is a pursuit of truth – the naked truth, which challenged everything the Indian state was saying. A paranoid state whose only method of engagement in Jammu and Kashmir is through increasing its military footprint, merciless subjugation of the residents and silencing of all voices of dissent was obviously uncomfortable with what I documented. The book was a warning to the government that its methods of control, creation of a police and surveillance state, and misplaced development models were unsustainable and would fail. In the last six years, the government has been pulling the wool over the eyes of the world by trumpeting its achievements of bringing peace, normalcy, tourism and development. The April 22 killings this year of 26 innocent civilians punctured this bubble. It was a wake-up call for the government to sit back and review its policies in Kashmir and begin course correction. Instead, it clamped down even further with a horrific scale of demonisation of Kashmiris, ruthless detentions and even more brutal demolitions of houses. This, even as there was widespread public condemnation of terrorism, including vigils and calls to reject violence – something unprecedented in the more than three-decade-long history of rebellion in the region – and even as the investigators indicated foreign militants, not locals, were involved in the killings. In the last three months, the government has demonstrated that its policy of control through harsh security measures and pervasive surveillance would be further accelerated. The ban on 25 books, many of which provide rich, well-researched, and layered historical, political and legal narratives about the complex and trouble-torn region, is an extension of the pattern. Through this ban, there is an attempt to erase every trace of a counter-narrative and alternate memory. By branding all criticism of the state and narratives that are out of sync with the official version as 'seditious', the government can now seize and destroy these books. Not only are the written words being criminalised – even the act of reading will be wrongfully deemed a threat to the security and integrity of the nation. While this may not stop ideas and memory from being suppressed, policing what people write and read is likely to be further intensified. Though senseless, shocking and irrational in scale and scope, the ban, which ironically coincides with a government-backed Chinar Book Festival in Srinagar, sends a chilling message: Knowledge and information will be regulated by the state. What people write and read will be decided by the state. The thought police will penetrate deeper. Last year, during Jammu and Kashmir's first assembly elections as a Union Territory, India's home minister, Amit Shah, took a dig at the regional political parties and alleged that while 'they (local politicians) gave the youth stones in their hands', his government had given them 'books and laptops'. The hollowness of such claims is laid bare when the daily reality is one of confiscation of digital devices, including laptops, during raids and interrogations, alongside a blanket book ban that only reinforces the central message of my work: Kashmir is anything but normal. The views expressed in this article are the author's own and do not necessarily reflect Al Jazeera's editorial stance.
