It’s been six years, but for the people of Kashmir, the wounds of August 5, 2019, are as raw as ever.
Across the world—whether in the streets of Srinagar, the heart of Islamabad, or outside the UN headquarters in New York—Kashmiris are marking this day as Black Day, remembering the moment they lost what was left of their political identity.
On that day, the Indian government unilaterally revoked Article 370 and 35A—provisions that had granted Jammu and Kashmir a special status within India’s constitution. Without the consent of its people, the state was stripped of its autonomy, split into two union territories, and placed under direct federal control. The region went silent, not just metaphorically, but literally: communications were cut, the internet was shut down, and thousands were detained overnight.
Since then, Kashmir has not been the same.
The valley is now under one of the world’s heaviest military occupations, with over 800,000 Indian soldiers deployed across its cities, towns, and villages. Surveillance cameras dot the landscape, dissent is criminalized, and journalists work under an atmosphere of fear. Local parties that once championed self-rule or independence have been banned. Many of their leaders remain behind bars.
“It wasn’t just a legal move—it was a betrayal,” said a young Kashmiri student at a protest in London. “They took away our voice, our identity, and our future—all in one day.”
For many, August 5 wasn’t just the abrogation of a constitutional article—it was the beginning of an era of demographic engineering. In the years since, the Indian government has introduced new domicile laws, opening the door for people from other parts of India to settle in Kashmir. Thousands have already been granted residency. Land once owned by locals has been seized by authorities, often under security pretexts.
The delimitation process—redrawing electoral boundaries—has also sparked fears of gerrymandering, as Muslim-majority constituencies see their influence reduced, while Hindu-majority areas gain greater political weight.
This is not happening in isolation.
Since 2019, India has also passed controversial laws like the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA) and conducted the National Register of Citizens (NRC) in Assam, leaving millions of Muslims stateless or vulnerable to deportation. In the same period, incidents of hate speech and mob violence against Muslims have surged, particularly in BJP-ruled states.
“Kashmiris are not alone in this—India’s Muslims are facing a wider ideological project,” said a human rights researcher based in Delhi.
The Modi government defends its actions in Kashmir as necessary for “integration” and “development.” But for those living in the valley, development without dignity rings hollow. Jobs, roads, and investments cannot replace the right to speak, to choose, or to live without fear.
Today, as the world scrolls past headlines, Kashmiris are reminding everyone: they have not forgotten.
From peaceful vigils to silent protests, from black flags to candlelit marches—Kashmiris across the globe are demanding the world finally listen.
Because for them, August 5 isn’t history. It’s ongoing
