The serenity of Kashmir was broken yet again ~ this time in a way that strikes deeper than before. An assault on domestic tourists in Pahalgam, one of the most picturesque corners of the valley, has left at least 28 people dead and many others critically injured. The brutality and targeting in this incident mark a stark and unsettling departure from the trajectory of recent years, during which civilian attacks had seemingly decreased. But this violence shreds any illusion of stability and forces us to confront uncomfortable questions. For decades, the Kashmir conflict has unfolded in a tragic loop of militancy, military presence, and political steps.
But tourists ~ especially domestic ones ~ have largely been spared from the direct line of fire. They were, in some sense, treated as guests even by those who opposed the Indian state. The latest attack betrays that unwritten code. The implication is chilling: the lines that once marked civilians as off-limits are blurring, if not disappearing. The fact that no group has yet claimed responsibility adds a further layer of complexity and unease. It raises suspicions about shifting dynamics within the insurgency, or worse, the rise of newer, more unpredictable elements that may not adhere to older patterns or ideologies. This uncertainty makes both prevention and accountability far more difficult, while heightening fear among civilians and visitors alike.
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That the victims were ordinary Indian travellers ~ families on vacation enjoying a rare breath of mountain air ~ makes the horror more visceral. Violence against soldiers, tragic as it is, is at least within the contours of a conflict zone. But this? This was a calculated blow to the idea of normalcy, to the dream that Kashmir could reclaim its place as a haven of peace and beauty. It is tempting to respond with rage, to call for retribution, and to double down on security measures. Already, checkpoints are tightening and operations are underway. Yet, experience tells us that force alone is rarely the answer. An approach that emphasises justice without introspection can harden the very roots of alienation that fuel such horrors. We must, instead, ask deeper questions. Why is it that after decades of efforts ~ military, political, and diplomatic ~ the region remains this volatile?
How did it come to a point where civilians are targeted in a place meant to symbolise healing and harmony? Is it enough to claim improvement when a single day can reverse years of perceived calm? Tourism has been held up as a symbol of returning peace in Kashmir, and rightly so. It fosters economic revival, human connection, and cultural exchange. But it is not peace itself ~ it is a product of peace. If peace is merely curated for optics, not rooted in reconciliation and understanding, it will remain fragile. What happened in Pahalgam is not just an isolated tragedy; it is a warning. We can either rethink our assumptions and policies or choose the easier path of short-term reaction. One path leads to more violence. The other, though harder, might finally lead to healing.
