The recent attack in Pahalgam, Kashmir, marks yet another grim chapter in a region long defined by conflict, contested narratives, and the burden of global and regional geopolitics. While the immediate aftermath has been consumed by familiar patterns of outrage and blame, it is essential to pause and interrogate the deeper structures that allow such violence to persist, often with impunity. In the rush to condemn, the conversation has once again been hijacked by reductive labels and polarising rhetoric, turning a complex geopolitical and security issue into an identity-based conflict. This distortion, far from incidental, reflects a calculated deflection that shifts attention away from state accountability, intelligence failures, and the unresolved political status of Kashmir. I am not a journalist reporting on an event, I am a member of Academia attempting to record a series of events to build an alternative discourse. As a member of Academia, it becomes imperative to move beyond surface-level discourse and instead engage critically with the narratives being constructed in its wake—narratives that all too often scapegoat Kashmiri Muslims while absolving broader systems of power and control.
The attack in Pahalgam, allegedly orchestrated by The Resistance Front (TRF), a militant group that emerged after the abrogation of Article 370, reveals the stark gap between the state’s claims of restored normalcy and the underlying, unresolved security tensions in the region. Just days before the incident, the Indian government claimed to have neutralised militancy in the Valley, more specifically using the phrase ‘combing out the militancy from Kashmir’s fabric’. Yet, within forty-eight hours of the attack, intelligence agencies reported the presence of at least sixty active militants linked to three major groups. This sudden influx of intelligence raises uncomfortable questions: Where was this information before the attack? Why does it surface now? Is it being used to justify crackdowns or to redirect the grief and anger of a wounded nation toward a familiar scapegoat?
This shift in narrative, from strategic failure to communal blame, has turned a pressing security and geopolitical issue into a communal one, fuelling Hindu- Muslim tensions and exploiting religious fault lines. Pakistan, predictably, has denied involvement, while India responded by suspending the Indus Water Treaty, an action that underscores the political leverage being exercised rather than a genuine attempt at de-escalation. Pakistan has called this “an act of war”. Meanwhile, mainstream media have largely avoided addressing the clear intelligence and administrative lapses, choosing instead to amplify nationalist rhetoric. This has been compounded by social media outrage, which often veers into communal vilification, creating a fertile ground for targeted attacks and collective punishment of Muslims.
The familiar labels, “Muslim extremist,” “Islamic terrorism”, are once again being invoked, not just by media and political figures, but by the very discourse that dominates both domestic and international perceptions of violence in Kashmir. These terms, entrenched in Western and increasingly Indian rhetoric, serve to vilify entire communities and deflect from the broader, more complex realities on the ground. In this framing, Kashmir is no longer seen as a place with real historical and political struggles, but as a symbolic battleground in the global war on terror, where its complex reality is reduced to simple, one-sided narratives.
Media and political institutions play a crucial role in sustaining this narrative, complicit in creating manufactured consent. Complex struggles for autonomy and justice are condensed into headline-friendly clichés that obscure their roots. Within this framework, Islam is not just misrepresented but actively weaponised, stripped of its ideological depth and diversity. For many, Islamic thought remains a lens through which to critique colonial legacies, economic inequality, and the erosion of indigenous sovereignty. But in public discourse, these counter-narratives are silenced or rebranded as extremist threats.
In Kashmir, such erasures are routine. The region’s demand for self- determination, born of decades of colonisation, partition, and militarisation, is consistently recast as terrorism. This framing absolves states of their complicity, turning acts of resistance into moral justifications for further repression. Western and Indian political narratives alike deploy the language of security and humanitarianism while sustaining a power imbalance rooted in history and empire.
The Pahalgam attack, while deeply tragic, must be seen within this broader architecture of fear and erasure. It is not a diversion or distraction, but a consequence of how violence is narrated, denied, and instrumentalised. To make real progress, we must avoid oversimplified explanations and face the deeper historical and political factors that allow such violence to happen, and keep happening.
What is needed is not more reactive outrage or recycled talking points, but a reckoning with the systems and narratives that permit cycles of violence to persist. The people of Kashmir, long caught between competing nationalisms and global indifference, deserve more than to be scapegoated or silenced. They deserve dignity, autonomy, and the right to be seen not through the lens of fear, but through the prism of justice. Only by challenging dominant narratives and reclaiming the complexity of this struggle can we begin to imagine a different, more humane future.
Maria Khan is a PhD scholar at the MMAJ Academy of International Studies, Jamia Millia Islamia.
