AFTER SEVEN YEARS OF SEPARATIST mayhem in the Indian state of Jammu and Kashmir--including bomb blasts, assassinations, hostage taking and, in response, abuse of human rights by government forces--a solution is plainly overdue. Prime Minister P.V. Narasimha Rao announced his version: he called for a December state election, which, he rhapsodized, would restore peace and "wipe the tears from every eye."

Last week, however, the Prime Minister suffered a political black eye when the Indian election commission refused to allow the vote, saying conditions in the Kashmir Valley, where anti-Indian militancy is centered, were too turbulent to allow a credible election. The three-member commission visited the state earlier in the week and concluded that almost nothing was right in Kashmir. Chief election commissioner T.N. Seshan told Time that the Himalayan winter was too harsh for campaigning and voting, major groups had decided to boycott the polls, and the militants were set on terrorizing anyone who got involved. To man the voting booths, New Delhi would have to airlift staff from elsewhere in India, offering each member a $15,000 life-insurance policy. Voter turnout would never exceed 10%.

The decision was an embarrassment for Rao and his ruling Congress Party. It was also a painful whack at the Prime Minister's ambition to go into the next general election, which must be held by May or June, as the statesman who brought peace to India's most troubled region, where more than 20,000 people have been killed since 1988.

By the time Rao's peace initiative was shelved last week, however, the Prime Minister seemed just about the only person who was disappointed. Predictably jubilant were his political foes, especially the opposition Bharatiya Janata Party, which had declared his plan "a conspiracy against the nation." Also pleased were the militant groups fighting for Kashmir's secession from India. They had feared that a democratic election would undermine their struggle.

Even beyond those narrow interests, there was relief among politicians and analysts who were worried that Rao's Kashmir gambit had been too hedged to do much good and might even have made things worse. Farooq Abdullah, a moderate former minister of Kashmir, said Rao's offer of an election and promise of greater autonomy "did not go far enough." Earlier this week Abdullah announced that his National Conference Party, which dominated local politics for five decades, would boycott the vote.

Seven years of ambushes, strikes and army torture chambers as well as the near collapse of the state's tourism-dependent economy have made the average Kashmiri clearly ready for a change, though not necessarily Rao's. The Prime Minister is pursuing India's traditional two-pronged approach to regional separatist movements, first applied in Nagaland in 1964 and afterward in Assam and Punjab. First, Indian troops get tough with the separatists for a period of years; then elections are held to bring the state back into the national fold. In Nagaland and Assam, rebel factions surrendered and traded their jungle hideouts for cushy berths in the newly elected governments. In Punjab, elections in 1992 were soon followed by a fresh government crackdown on the militants, which proved successful.

But Kashmir defies such easy comparisons. The rebel groups, abetted by Pakistan and bolstered by mercenaries from Afghanistan, are not close to surrendering. More important, many nonmilitant Kashmiris are holding out for a better deal from India. Specifically, they want restoration of the political autonomy granted the state in 1947 but whittled away by successive governments in New Delhi. Before 1953, Kashmir had its own flag and a wazir-e-azam, or prime minister, instead of a chief minister. In place of a governor appointed by New Delhi, its president, or sadar-i-riyasat, was elected. Laws passed by the Indian Parliament did not affect Kashmir unless they involved foreign affairs, communications and defense. Through the years, all that was taken away by India. Two weeks ago, Rao said the new legislature could apply to the Indian President to have offending national laws made inapplicable to Kashmir, reviving an offer made once before, in 1975. As a bonus, he said the newly elected chief minister and governor could assume their old, courtly titles, though none of their former powers. The offer was scorned.

Rao may propose an election yet again, perhaps for next March or April. But the ballot on its own is no solution. If held, and boycotted by most Kashmiris, the exercise could be interpreted as a state-wide rejection of India, emboldening both the militants and their supporters in Pakistan. No matter when it is held, an election alone is unlikely to bring peace to the valley or, in the Prime Minister's recent poetic outburst, to make Kashmir "a peer to paradise."

--Reported by Anita Pratap/New Delhi

Copyright © 1995 Time Inc. All rights reserved.

---

Related Articles in Britannica Online