TIME International
July 22, 1996 Volume 148, No. 4
BY MASEEH RAHMAN/SRINAGAR
A clear sign that normal life is gradually returning to Kashmir after nearly eight years of armed insurgency is the sight of buses packed with picnickers leaving Srinagar for the holiday resort of Gulmarg 30 km away. But on a warm morning last week, one of those buses was carrying reporters and photographers and had a different destination: a press conference called by the chief of a pro-India militant group some 60 km south of the state capital on national highway 1A. The meeting never took place. Instead the bus was hijacked at gunpoint by another group of militants. The journalists' nightmare ended only when an Indian army platoon arrived to rescue them more than seven hours later.
The episode was dramatic evidence that for Kashmir's press corps, reporting on the insurgency has been no picnic. Since 1990, various militant factions have targeted the media, shooting journalists, bombing printing presses and closing down dailies while trying to control the news. Occasionally, as during India's parliamentary election in May, reporters and photographers have been on the receiving end of violence from the security forces as well. In a country known for its lively and free press, Kashmir is the dark zone. For years the fear of the gun has muzzled the media in the Himalayan valley. Says the state's former chief minister Farooq Abdullah: "The attempt to control the press in Kashmir has been a tragic affair."
Though journalists visiting the valley on behalf of national and foreign media organizations often encounter problems, the brunt of the repression is faced by reporters based in Srinagar. Even among this group, the most vulnerable are journalists working for Srinagar's Urdu and English-language dailies and weeklies. When the Jammu & Kashmir Ikhwan, a well-armed militia backed by Indian security forces and headed by the soft-spoken Hilal Hyder, detained 19 journalists last week, the guns were pointed primarily at five reporters and photographers representing local newspapers. Hyder threatened to kill them one by one unless their editors appeared before him to apologize for defying a ban he had put on their publications. His complaint: the group's press statements were not getting enough space in Srinagar's eight main dailies. The militia leader was particularly upset that the papers had not only continued publishing but had also snubbed him by announcing on their front pages that they would defy the ban. An unrepentant Hyder told TIME after army officers talked him into freeing the journalists: "My fight is justified. It will only end when the papers agree to print all our statements."
The demand for coverage at gunpoint has traumatized Kashmir's press for years. In an official report on violence in the valley, more than 50 incidents refer to attacks and threats against the media. The list does not include actions by security forces, such as the abduction of bbc correspondent and Time reporter Yusuf Jameel by maverick soldiers in June 1990; he was released after 29 hours. Sometimes the attacks have come after newsmen became too closely identified with militant groups or even security agencies. But in nearly every case the objective has remained the same: absolute control over what appears in print.
The earliest victims of militant violence were Lassa Kaul, director of Srinagar's government-controlled TV station, and Shaban Vakil, forthright editor of the Urdu daily Al Safa, who were killed within weeks of each other in early 1990. There have been only two more deaths since then: Agence France-Presse photographer Mushtaq Ali was killed last September when a book bomb intended for Jameel exploded in his face. Jameel, who had survived two grenade attacks on his home in 1992, was seriously injured by the blast, along with another photographer. And in March of this year, the body of an editor of a small Srinagar daily was fished out of the Jhelum River. Other journalists have narrowly escaped death: Zee TV's Zafar Meraj, for instance, was shot three times by unidentified militants last December and left for dead on a highway.
For years the government watched helplessly as the Kashmir press was hijacked by pro-Pakistan militant groups, who ensured that only reports and advertisements that had their approval were published. Even a minor deviation by a newspaper could invite extreme violence--and enforced closure. On some occasions, even Delhi-based correspondents or publications have been banned from Kashmir. All the government could do in response was to issue its own belated, closure orders.
But with militancy on the wane in the valley, authorities appear to be testing a shrewder media-management policy. In the run-up to the May parliamentary poll, the government directed newspapers to stop publishing anti-India stories or advertisements. The Hizb-ul-Mujahedin, the biggest pro-Pakistan militant group, promptly prohibited papers from reporting official news. Rather than get caught in the cross fire, the papers decided to shut down, reopening only in June after election results were declared. On July 3 came the ban by Jammu & Kashmir Ikhwan. Editors, groaning under years of closures, arson and bomb attacks, decided to rebel. Says Srinagar Times editor Soofi Ghulam Mohammed: "The message we want to give all militant groups is that enough is enough. For seven years we obeyed your orders and did everything we didn't want to do. No more now."
The papers still devote space to press handouts from both pro- and anti-India groups. Militants gunned down by security forces are referred to as shaheed (martyrs) by Urdu papers. But the more virulent propaganda is now routinely softened by editors or quietly dropped, and the advertisements extolling armed exploits are kept out altogether. Instead government ads have become the main source of revenue for Srinagar's papers. And when reporters and photographers are taken hostage by New Delhi-backed militants, it is government officials whom editors have to seek out for assistance.
With all sides--militant groups, government and editors--becoming more assertive, the pressure on the media in Kashmir is expected to increase in the coming months. New Delhi's plan to hold state assembly elections in September will only add to the problems. The militants now appear to be unleashing a fresh round of bans. Last week an anti-India group forbade all new publications, closing an Urdu daily that was about to be launched. At the same time, the militant group forbade picnics as "un-Islamic." Even if peace gradually returns to Kashmir, it will be a long time before journalists can head for an out-of-town press conference--and treat it as an excursion.