Ziali Reen
The demand for a separate statehood for Jammu Province has long been trivialised as emotional, reactionary, or politically motivated. Such characterisations, however, deliberately avoid engaging with the substantive realities that have shaped Jammu’s trajectory since 1947. When examined through the lenses of governance, development, political representation, fiscal justice, and demographic security, the argument for separate statehood emerges not as a political indulgence but as a structural necessity. What is at stake today is not symbolism or sentiment, but the very sustainability of Jammu as a viable socio-economic and cultural entity within an arrangement that has consistently marginalised it.
From the moment the former princely state acceded to India, political authority became overwhelmingly concentrated in Kashmir. Successive governments, regardless of party or ideology, were Kashmir-centric in composition and outlook. Jammu, despite its size, strategic importance, and economic contribution, was treated as a peripheral appendage rather than an equal stakeholder. Over decades, this imbalance became institutionalised. Developmental planning, capital investment, and policy prioritisation were all filtered through a K-centric prism, resulting in visible disparities in infrastructure, education, healthcare, and industrial growth. Jammu’s cities stagnated while those in Kashmir expanded; and whatever expansion happened in the Jammu region was due to a planned settling of non-local stock in and around Jammu city in particular.
This neglect was neither accidental nor episodic. It was reinforced through control over key governance portfolios such as home, revenue, finance, power, and planning-departments that shape land ownership, employment, security, and resource distribution. Historically, these portfolios remained dominated by Kashmir-based politicians and bureaucrats, enabling long-term policy capture. Administrative postings and recruitments reflected the same bias, with disproportionate representation from Kashmir in decision-making positions. A ceiling was breached recently when Urdu was made compulsory for recruitment in one of the departments. Jammu’s under-representation in the higher bureaucracy ensured that grievances were not merely ignored, but structurally filtered out before they could translate into corrective policy.
The economic consequences of this imbalance are stark. Jammu Province has consistently generated a substantial share of the state’s tax revenues through trade, transport, services, excise, and industry. Even the major portion of much-flaunted tourist footfall in J&K comes from the pilgrimage to Shri Vaishno Devi shrine. Yet, expenditure patterns have remained heavily tilted towards Kashmir. Even when development funds were allocated to Jammu on paper, implementation frequently suffered from diversion, delay, or dilution. Numerous projects-roads, irrigation schemes, power infrastructure, industrial estates-either remained incomplete or were quietly deprioritised. Over time, this produced a paradoxical situation: Jammu funded the state disproportionately while remaining developmentally under-served.
Tourism, one of Jammu’s most underexploited strengths, was never allowed to flourish as a serious economic driver. Despite possessing religious, cultural, ecological, and adventure tourism potential across the region, policy support remained minimal. Infrastructure, marketing, and investment incentives were almost exclusively Kashmir-focused. Similarly, cash crops such as summer apples-naturally suited to several belts of Jammu-were never meaningfully promoted, depriving farmers of diversification and value addition. Irrigation projects drawing from the Ravi river system, conceived decades ago, remain half-executed, reflecting a pattern where Jammu’s agrarian economy was systematically denied long-term planning.
Employment patterns mirror this economic imbalance. A comparative assessment of government employment shows disproportionate representation from Kashmir across departments and services. This is not reflective of merit alone, but of sustained political influence over recruitment bodies, domicile interpretations, and posting policies. Jammu’s youth, despite educational attainment, encountered structural barriers in accessing public employment, reinforcing economic insecurity and political alienation. The same goes for sportspersons and entrepreneurs. To cite an example, a big educational entity was forced to set up its institutions in neighbouring Punjab since it was not granted permission to do the same in the Jammu region; the uncited reason was the fact that no similar entity existed in Kashmir at that time!
The misuse of legislation further aggravated this disparity. The Roshni Act, ostensibly designed to regularise land and generate revenue for power projects, became a vehicle for large-scale transfer of state land, primarily benefiting influential individuals in Kashmir. Valuable land was alienated at nominal rates, undermining both public interest and revenue objectives. In Jammu, however, the Act was applied selectively and often restrictively, exposing the asymmetrical application of law itself. The repeal of the Act confirmed the scale of misuse, but the damage-to public assets and institutional credibility-had already been done.
Demographic concerns add another layer of urgency. Jammu’s historically plural and inclusive social fabric is under increasing strain. Settlement patterns, land-use decisions, encroachment into forest land, river beds, seasonal streams as well as government lands, and selective administrative interventions have fuelled apprehensions of deliberate demographic alteration. These concerns are often dismissed as alarmist, yet similar anxieties in Kashmir are treated as politically sacrosanct. The asymmetry is revealing. Compounding this is the fact that while Kashmiris freely own property, conduct business, and settle in Jammu, the reverse has never been permitted. Non-Kashmiris are effectively barred from settling in Kashmir, and those communities that have lived there for centuries-often non-Muslim or politically unaffiliated-have faced violence, intimidation, and marginalisation, encountering bullets and stones in equal measure. The principle of reciprocity, fundamental to any equitable political arrangement, has been entirely absent. Jammu welcomes everyone with open arms; Kashmir accepts only paying ‘Indian’ tourists. This difference in attitudes leads to many related issues.
Geography and political representation further expose systemic inequity. Jammu Province spans over 26,000 square kilometres, significantly larger than Kashmir’s approximately 15,000 square kilometres. Yet, political representation has never reflected this reality. The recent delimitation exercise, based primarily on the deeply contested 2011 Census, has entrenched Jammu’s political subordination. The census itself is widely regarded as unreliable, particularly in conflict-affected and migration-prone regions, yet it was treated as sacrosanct for redrawing constituencies. The outcome is a structurally skewed assembly where electoral arithmetic virtually guarantees that political power remains Kashmir-centric. Even in a hypothetical scenario where a single party sweeps all seats in Jammu, government formation would still depend on Kashmir, rendering Jammu perpetually subordinate.
The reorganisation of 2019 offers a telling contrast. Ladakh, long marginalised within the same political framework, broke free of structural neglect through Union Territory status. Direct administrative linkage with the Union Government allowed Ladakh to articulate its priorities without mediation by Kashmir-centric power structures. Jammu, however, remains trapped in an unresolved contradiction: stripped of the constitutional framework that once justified imbalance, yet still governed by the same demographic and political arithmetic. The promise of equal development post-2019 has not translated into institutional safeguards for Jammu’s interests.
Having highlighted a few of numerous discrepancies, it is time to look ahead. At this juncture, the argument for separate statehood must be reframed-not as opposition to Kashmir, but as affirmation of Jammu’s right to self-directed development and governance. Jammu’s civil society bears a particular responsibility. For too long, discourse has remained reactive-defined by critique of Kashmir rather than articulation of Jammu’s own vision. That phase must end. The future lies not in grievance alone, but in constructive assertion: demanding fiscal transparency, political equity, demographic security, and administrative accountability. Separate statehood offers a constitutional pathway to achieve these ends, enabling Jammu to prioritise its economy, safeguard its social fabric, and reclaim political agency.
The question, therefore, is no longer whether separate statehood is desirable. It is whether continued denial is viable. A region that has remained peaceful, loyal, and productive despite decades of neglect cannot be expected to indefinitely subsidise a system that marginalises it. Separate statehood for Jammu Province is not an act of division; it is an act of democratic correction. It represents a forward-looking solution-anchored in constitutionalism and equity-that allows Jammu to move beyond stagnation and toward a future defined not by grievance, but by dignity, development, and self-respect.
(The author is a student of Political Science at Delhi University)
