New Delhi, Jan 18 (NationPress) 35 years can significantly change a nation's landscape. It's ample time for governments to evolve, for narratives to be reshaped, and for uncomfortable realities to be obscured by convenient silences. Yet, for a community expelled from their homeland simply due to their Hindu identity, time has not eased the anguish; it has only intensified the suffering.

Three and a half decades post the exodus of the Kashmiri Pandits, many questions linger unanswered. Not due to a lack of knowledge—everyone in Kashmir is aware—but rather because the silence surrounding these truths is intentional and systematic.

Approximately 700,000 individuals were displaced from their homeland in a remarkably brief period, with conditions crafted so intentionally that their return became unfeasible. This was not a mere historical accident; it was the result of a gradual, calculated strategy that began shortly after Jammu and Kashmir's accession to India in 1947 and gained harrowing momentum in the late 1980s.

At the core of this scheme was a straightforward yet malevolent goal: to demographically and ideologically overwhelm Kashmir, allowing Muhammad Ali Jinnah's two-nation theory to manifest without a formal conflict. While Pakistan failed in all its military attempts against India, it triumphed in Kashmir, not through ballots or persuasion, but through terror—by systematically erasing its Hindu populace.

The Kashmiri Pandits, who represented merely 2% of the valley's demographic, were particularly vulnerable. Predominantly a non-martial community engaged in education, administration, and spiritual practices, they lacked the means to retaliate violently. Faced with targeted executions, public threats, and systematic oppression, they opted for survival with dignity over futile resistance against an overwhelming force. In doing so, they were compelled to forsake a civilization with roots extending over 5,000 years.

The exodus was not an instantaneous event but transpired in waves of terror. Initially, it was those whose loved ones were murdered. Then, it was those whose homes were marked for destruction. Following them were individuals whose names appeared on hit lists disseminated in mosques. Ultimately, it included those fleeing to safeguard their daughters and wives from impending threats. This was not chaos; it was orchestrated.

Thus, one must ponder: where was the acclaimed spirit of 'azadi' in all this? If the movement genuinely aimed for freedom, why was its anger directed at an unarmed minority? Why were innocent men, women, and children pursued relentlessly? The answer is stark and unavoidable: the terror in Kashmir was not a liberation movement; it was a campaign for religious uniformity. Its success lay in nearly eradicating Hindus from the valley.

The reality of this success was evident in the refugee camps of Jammu and Delhi, where families used to spacious ancestral homes were crammed into dilapidated tents under 45-degree heat. Resources like water, food, and medicine were scarce. Many perished not from gunfire, but from shock, disease, heatstroke, and snake bites.

Every year, January 19 is commemorated by the Kashmiri Pandit community as Exodus Day or Holocaust Day—a day to remember the violence inflicted upon them and to lament the ongoing denial of justice. Hundreds were slain, homes ransacked and set ablaze, women violated and killed. Yet, accountability remains elusive. Fewer than a hundred cases have been recorded by the Jammu and Kashmir Police, and not a single inquiry has yielded a meaningful conclusion. No arrests, no convictions, no resolution.

In the past 35 years, numerous direct victims and witnesses have passed on, taking vital evidence with them. Successive governments—both at the Centre and in the former state, now union territory—have failed to establish even a commission of inquiry or a Special Investigation Team. Courts have remained apathetic. Human rights organizations, vocal regarding conflicts worldwide, have deemed the suffering of Kashmiri Hindus insufficiently compelling. A Gaza-like situation has persisted in India's backyard, yet it never garnered the appropriate headlines.

A part of this tragedy is political expediency. The Kashmiri Pandit community is neither sizable nor influential enough to attract electoral focus. Their suffering does not manifest in public protests or international advocacy. Consequently, their plight is quietly overlooked.

Compounding the anguish of the Kashmiri Hindus is the political rehabilitation of those who held power during the persecution. Valley-based Muslim leaders are now sought after across the political spectrum, yet not one has acknowledged, let alone supported, the cause of the Kashmiri Hindus. The silence of the valley’s leadership and intellectuals—at best complicit, at worst endorsing the separatist narrative—has never been scrutinized or challenged.

The harsh truth today is that the original inhabitants of Kashmir exist as refugees in their homeland. Their properties have been seized, their return systematically obstructed, and their dignity indefinitely deferred.

January 19 serves not merely as a day of mourning for the Kashmiri Pandits; it is a day for national reflection. It signifies not only the exodus of a community but the disintegration of India’s moral resolve and the selective application of its secular ideals. Until justice is pursued and truths recognized, the exodus will not fade into history; it will persist as an enduring accusation.

(Deepika Bhan can be reached at deepika.b@ians.in)