K K Khosa
The exodus of Kashmiri Pandits in 1990 remains among the most wrenching episodes in modern Indian history. Over three and a half decades later, the community still awaits a dignified return-a return that transcends mere policy and touches the core of Kashmir’s composite culture: a heritage born of harmony among distinct faiths and traditions.
History can illuminate both tragic collapse and the possibility of renewal. The French Revolution, born of ideals of liberty, equality, and fraternity, soon descended into the Reign of Terror-a period when revolutionary fervour devoured moderation, neighbour turned on neighbour, and fear eclipsed ideals. In late-1980s Kashmir, a similar revolutionary climate emerged. Political disillusionment, administrative missteps, and external meddling amplified radical voices. The preposterous demand for a “Nizam-e-Mustafa” by Islamist radicals captured this drift. It brooked no diversity. Pandits although few in numbers yet central to Kashmir’s cultural life were sadly marked as others. In the face of threats, targeted killings, and mounting paranoia, tens of thousands were made to flee, tearing apart a social fabric centuries in the making.
France serves not only as a cautionary tale but as a beacon of redemption. Amid chaos, it rebuilt through moderation and institutional resilience-restoring fraternity as civic trust. The lesson is resonant to show that societies fractured by extremism can heal-but only through deliberate justice, inclusion, and reconciliation.
Regrettably, ostensible attempts at Pandit rehabilitation have too often been procedural, not moral. The government estimates that from the Valley, some 64,827 Pandit families were displaced in the early 1990s. Since then, over 64,900 registered families remain scattered, with 43,600 in Jammu, 19,300 in Delhi/NCR, and nearly 2,000 in other parts of India and abroad. There are some who never got registered anywhere and do not form part of the above figures. The numbers alone narrate a pathetic story of rupture prolonged by indifference.
A significant but shoddy effort was the 2008 Prime Minister’s package, which promised 6,000 government jobs for displaced Pandit youth. Yet progress was painfully slow. By 2018, barely half of these posts had been filled, reflecting years of bureaucratic drift and political indifference. It was only after 2019, under the Lt. Governor Manoj Sinha’s administration, that the remaining posts were recruited in just two years-an achievement that underscored both what was possible with focused will, and how wasteful the earlier decade of delay had been.
The same package also envisaged some housing, but this was never a resettlement initiative. The transit accommodations were for some of the Pandit employees recruited under the job quota. Sh.Narendra Modi Ji announced the construction of 6000 flats for as many employees in 2018 but entitlement to these accommodations lasts only for the duration of their service. They are transit quarters, not homes. In no case it forms part of a “rehabilitation” effort. For the larger displaced community of nearly 65,000 families, these schemes offered neither return nor resettlement. What was projected as a bold step forward was, in fact, a minimalist arrangement tied to employment, revealing once again how the state reduced a historic tragedy to a bureaucratic exercise.
Successive governments turned rehabilitation into a numbers game-not a moral project. Fresh job proposals if any remained on paper or mired in red tape. Compensation schemes for immovable property-thousands of Kanals of land and thousands of structures-were largely unfulfilled. Thousands of Pandit houses and plots were either sold under distress or encroached upon, with official records acknowledging tens of thousands of such cases. Yet concrete steps to restore, protect, or compensate were deferred endlessly. These efforts symbolised neglect, not hope.
Crucially, they failed to address the root concerns: security and trust. Absent meaningful accountability for the violence that prompted the exodus, and without genuine interfaith dialogue, no material package could persuade a traumatised community to return. Today, very few Pandits remain in the Valley-just around 800 families-a sobering reminder of how deep the rupture still is.
Some recent actions offer a glimmer of sincerity. Reopening long-pending cases such as that of nurse Girja Tickoo signals that memory matters and that justice, however delayed, still matters. But such moves must be systematic, not selective-consistent and transparent to convey genuine commitment.
The burden of delivering such sincerity now lies with the newly elected Omar Abdullah government. After years of central administration, this political dispensation has the mandate-and the responsibility-to act meaningfully. Rehabilitation must go beyond print. Housing must be reconceived as part of a genuine return policy, not transit arrangements. Jobs must be delivered without excuses. Compensation and property restitution must be clear, fair, and enforceable.
Beyond administrative steps, political will must foster reconciliation. Community dialogues, cultural initiatives, and protection of temples and shrines can provide the soil for trust to grow again. Restoring Kashmir’s tradition of pluralism is not just about physically bringing back Pandits, but about reweaving the idea of Kashmir as a shared homeland. Children must learn together; neighbours must relearn trust; festivals-whether Shivratri or Eid-must again be celebrations of shared belonging.
France’s redemption lay in re-embedding fraternity into its republican identity. Kashmir must attempt something parallel. The era of “Nizam-e-Mustafa” must give way to a civic vision where multiple identities flourish together. A return, when it happens with dignity and assurance, will signal that the Valley chooses healing over exclusion, fraternity over fear.
Thirty-plus years of displacement is already too long. With each passing year, institutional credibility erodes and trauma deepens. A return long denied cannot be indefinitely postponed as it imperils what Kashmir once stood for. For the Omar Abdullah government, the moment is profound. To continue half-measures would betray both a community and the Valley’s pluralist heritage. To act with courage and sincerity, however, would restore faith that Kashmir-even after its darkest chapters-can reimagine itself as a home for all its people.
(The author is President Kashmiri Pandit Sabha Jammu)
