SOURCE: OUTLOOK INDIA
You could think of it as a final ellipsis in one man’s life, or as the turning point of a whole phase of history in Kashmir—with India, and then Pakistan, applying the vector force. For the past 30 years, 91-year-old Syed Ali Geelani has remained the pivot of Kashmiri separatism. He symbolised Kashmir’s hardline politics against Indian rule—the door that slammed shut in the face of even the occasional peace overture. Unlike some of his former associates, more amenable to dialogue under tolerable conditions, Geelani has all along enunciated the maximalist position: that the only condition for dialogue with New Delhi is that the latter accept Kashmir as a disputed territory.
His street cred bore out that role of the white-bearded pater familias of resistance politics.
During the surge of protests post the killing of Burhan Wani in 2016, Geelani refused to meet the parliamentary delegation that knocked on his door at his Hyderpora residence. He described the overture as meaningless, saying they have neither the mandate nor “the intention to resolve” Kashmir. In two statements issued in September 2016, the then Hurriyat chairman asked India to accept Kashmir as a disputed territory and start demilitarisation to pave the way for a referendum—only that could “settle this issue permanently, peacefully and democratically,” he had said. That unflinching stance, in line with the sentiment on the street, meant he was acknowledged on all sides as the real inflexible one. Even if formally he was only the life-time chairman of his Hurriyat faction, he was the face and voice of Kashmir’s veto.
After years of the enforced stagnation of Hurriyat politics, Kashmir’s resistance had in recent times spilled over to the streets—in classic leaderless protests. The old separatist leaders often struggled to stay at the helm. Except Geelani: one word from him could still bring Kashmir to a pause. At times, militants have even wished that, if their path brings them death, it must be Geelani who offers their funeral prayers. And he has obliged, giving funeral speeches on video in his chaste Urdu. That’s why many mainstream leaders painted him as the political vanguard of militant separatism. And that’s why his sudden resignation from the Hurriyat Conference on June 19 came as a shock and surprise to everyone. Sharp, angular debates filled the air in Kashmir. New Delhi took notice too, with delight. BJP general secretary Ram Madhav called Geelani singularly responsible for pushing the Valley into terror and violence, ruining the lives of thousands of Kashmiri youth and families. Geelani had resigned without giving a reason, Madhav tweeted. “Does it absolve him of all the past sins?”
Taking the cue, state BJP leaders say separatist politics stands rejected in Kashmir. “The Hurriyat is not relevant after the historical August 5 decision. Their dangerous, divisive politics is over,” says Altaf Thakur, BJP spokesman in Kashmir. The revocation of Article 370 has ended separatist and secessionist thoughts in Kashmir forever—and thus, it was a timely decision by the aged leader, he says, a sign that the entire discourse had changed. Other mainstream parties are watching silently, like they have been doing for the past few months, even after the release of their leaders. National Conference patron Farooq Abdullah stated categorically after his release in March this year that he will not talk politics. Omar Abdullah is also silent about his party’s current thinking. A senior NC leader, however, described Geelani’s resignation as a huge development in Kashmir’s politics. “The Hurriyat and Geelani, if he is in good health, should explain. His family should explain. This indicates the death of separatism or his brand of politics,” says the leader.
On social media, Geelani’s traditional opponents berated him, calling it a “surrender”. Pakistan has disowned him, they said, and this forced him to resign in a vain bid to show Islamabad that he still carries weight. Geelani’s supporters are bewildered. Local newspapers, which had stopped publishing articles, editorials and even ground reports after August 5, 2019, were buzzing again with sharp opinions. In Kashmir Images, leading Urdu editor-writer Manzoor Anjum wrote that it was Geelani’s politics that compelled New Delhi to revoke Article 370. Geelani, he wrote, tried every trick to occupy the hardline space and used his Jamaat-e-Islami and Hizbul Mujahideen influence to the hilt. “In the process, groups of stone-pelters emerged…and overground workers who would enforce Geelani’s strike programme and denounce those who dared to oppose it. The (ruling) PDP tried to exploit the situation to suit its political goals,” he wrote, saying that’s what led up to the Article 370 decision and the state’s bifurcation. “And the play ended. There were no ripples. Geelani sealed his lips, Mirwaiz did the same, Farooq Abdullah and Mehbooba Mufti did the same.”
“Geelani may be upset why he alone is being targeted for post-August 5 inaction,” Anjum wrote, fairly unsparing. “It is because he forced people, through all means, to accept him as leader of the revolution (Rehbar-e-Inqilab) and therefore he has to answer. He made people die for Nizam-e-Mustafa and now he quits. He talked obnoxiously about demographic changes and now when domicile certificates are being issued, he resigns. Wasn’t it Geelani and his followers who would tell people that azadi is ‘round the corner’? Where is that azadi? Geelani has to answer.”
But Geelani’s resignation letter was concerned more with events in PoK. He accused his Hurriyat faction’s branch in PoK of taking decisions on their behalf in spite of being “just a representative forum”. He also accused them of corruption, nepotism and financial irregularities. As for his Hurriyat (G) constituents in Kashmir, Geelani in turn accused them of inaction after August 5.
Of course, the whole landscape had been silenced—the police booked around 8,000 people, including mainstream leaders and three former CMs, under various laws after August 5. A giant shroud had been draped over Kashmir such that no huge protests could break out, like in 2010 or 2016. But the immediate trigger lay across the LoC. In one of the meetings there, the representative of Geelani’s faction had agreed to Islamabad’s decision to turn Gilgit and Baltistan into a separate Pakistani state. And Geelani says while no Hurriyat constituent was available to guide Kashmiris last year, this year they gathered to hold a “so-called consultative meeting” to endorse the “unconstitutional” decisions in PoK.
“We have read Geelani’s letter and passionate commentaries on it,” says Zafar Choudhary, political analyst and author. “The conclusion one draws of Pakistan’s influence on Kashmir’s separatist politics, infighting in Hurriyat ranks and the power pursuits of PoK-based representatives presents no new revelation. These issues have been intrinsic to the body of Hurriyat ever since its formation in the early 1990s.” Choudhary sees clues to something more fundamental. “The resignation doesn’t tell the whole story. One hint one gathers from this development is that there could be some fundamental change in Pakistan’s Kashmir policy, currently behind the curtains, which may not have been acceptable to Geelani,” he says, adding that August 5 was a massive blow that showed Pakistan’s traditional Kashmir policy had failed to an embarrassing extent, even exposing its vulnerabilities in PoK and Gilgit-Baltistan. “There are several hints that Pakistan is considering recasting its Kashmir policy to secure what it currently possesses of Jammu and Kashmir. Geelani has always refused to engage with any policy that deals with the historic state of Jammu and Kashmir in parts,” he says.
Officials in the security establishment see Geelani’s decision as part of his dogged attempt over the years to project himself as a “last sole spokesman” of Kashmiris. “He stood against talks with New Delhi, he went against President Musharraf’s four-point formula to resolve Kashmir. Now he has isolated himself from the Hurriyat, absolving himself its inaction. And he has levelled allegations of corruption against his own people, making them suspect before the people, to project himself,” says a senior official.
A political analyst offers another take: “It can be an Indian move as well. Maybe at the end of his life, the government wants to take away the halo around Geelani and project him as one who surrendered. You never know.” But former Pakistani ambassador Abdul Basit’s words—arguing for the pro-freedom leadership to transfer to the youth after Geelani—gives an indication of Pakistan’s involvement in his resignation. There’s an overall air of avenues for politics being closed off for “the old separatists” after Geelani.
Soon after his resignation, Geelani was quick to extricate himself from the Joint Resistance Forum (JRF) and give strike calls. Before August 5, 2019, such decisions were jointly taken by the JRF, comprising Geelani, Mirwaiz Umer Farooq and Yasin Malik. Malik has been in Tihar for the past 18 months and Mirwaiz continues to be under house arrest since August 5. Geelani, while giving a strike call on the anniversary of Burhan Wani’s killing on July 8 and on Martyr’s Day (July 13, which commemorates the 1931 uprising), said: “India has officially started bringing demographic changes in Kashmir, creating settler colonies, after the annexation of August 5, 2019…. I have been warning for long about such plans.” Police insIST the strike call was given in Geelani’s name from Pakistan.
Many in Kashmir argue that the die was cast on August 5 last year and Geelani, with no plan on how to reverse it, has resorted to his old politics of strikes. “New Delhi has crushed the organising capacity of Kashmiris. The separatists realised it on August 5 and fled from the scene, as if they didn’t exist,” says a political observer. “Now only a person ready to put his life on the line can resist. There’s no space left for peaceful public dissent.” Most Kashmiris, he says, are looking at larger geopolitics to show the way. “Otherwise, they feel they can’t do anything to change a fait accompli.” That sense would indeed be keen-edged in a season when even the formal bulwark of separatism seems to be coming apart.
