Kashmir caught in bureaucratic tangle

In many ways Fazal Haq Qureshi, the Kashmiri separatist leader who was shot at last Friday in Srinagar, represents the realities of modern day Kashmir.

His struggle for life in local hospital chillingly symbolises Kashmir's own dilemma — the idealistic armed insurgency that promised freedom is rapidly degrading into kidnapping and other criminal activities, and bold promises for a better future are not in Kashmir's horizon.

Qureshi was one of the first armed insurgents in Kashmir after Independence, starting in the mid-60s and carrying on through until the early 90s. He was also one of the first separatists to be convinced that peace is a far more powerful weapon than IEDs.  More importantly, he came out in public and pursued peaceful negotiations with New Delhi even when many of his compatriots dithered.

The attack on him also symbolises how Kashmir has been let down by New Delhi, Islamabad and militants. Despite efforts of a handful of popular separatists over the past several years to pursue peace talks, Indian political leadership has let them down, leaving the task of untangling history's curses to India's insipid bureaucracy. Militants are increasingly turning to crime. Given the turbulent geopolitical situation in our neighbourhood, the forecast for Kashmir is grave.

The affable Qureshi lived in a modest house unlike most other leaders. He was hungry for peace, but not at the cost of the dignity of Kashmiri people. He was determined to pursue negotiations, but didn't care much for his personal safety. While fellow separatists in Hurriyat and others accepted detailed security cover from the very Indian state they perpetually condemned, Qureshi preferred to roam like an ordinary man.

Not that he was unaware of the complex web of terror that he helped seed in some parts —   the armed militants, the Pakistan-sponsored terrorists, the state-sponsored Ikhwanis, and even shadowy terror groups whose allegiance and existence is yet not assessed comprehensively. He was one of the interlocutors appointed by the Hizbul Mujahideen in 2000 for its peace talks with the Centre. But that was not to be.

As New Delhi pussyfooted and Islamabad mounted pressure on Hizbul's Pakistan-based chief Syed Salahudin, the ceasefire collapsed in a matter of few days.  Majid Dar and other armed insurgents disappeared. New Delhi's field operatives pretended to be in command, feeding their masters misguided information about getting the Hizbul back to the negotiating table. Those confident claims were, of course, wrong.

In 2003, Majid Dar fell to anonymous bullets. Now, six years later, his friend Qureshi is attacked. Since 2005 there has been visible and drastic reduction in all parameters of violence in J&K, but officialdom did not let the political leadership grasp the opportunity.

The prime minister's call for out-of-the-box thinking was stifled by a concerted effort of the security complex that often distorted facts and figures to exaggerate the situation in Kashmir. The 'Kashmiri bureaucracy' of New Delhi did not let UPA government have its way. Nor did the political leadership try to free itself from the iron grip of bureaucracy. Thus insipid political leadership has only contributed to maintaining the status quo.

Qureshi's struggle for life mirrors the reality of Kashmir's quest for peace. With historically low violence levels, enough indicators of abysmal morale of the insurgents, it is time for New Delhi to make a breakthrough proposal.

Over the past two decades, India has made major strides in liberalising its administrative and decision-making mechanisms. The question before the UPA government is if it would exhibit a similar boldness to 'liberalise' its Kashmir policy and give it over to a set of men and women who would not bury compassion in a heap of absurdities.