Kashmir After Article 370: Identity, Autonomy and the Road Ahead

On the morning of 5 August 2019, the people of Jammu and Kashmir woke to a silence unlike any before. Phones stopped working, television screens went blank, and roads that once echoed with the bustle of markets fell still under the weight of uncertainty.

For the first time in decades, communication lines were cut off completely, not by nature’s snow or floods, but by decree. That day, the Indian Parliament revoked Articles 370 and 35A, provisions that had defined Kashmir’s political relationship with the Indian Union for more than seventy years.

For many, the decision marked the end of a historical chapter that began in 1947, when the Maharaja of Jammu and Kashmir signed the Instrument of Accession. For others, it marked the beginning of a new era of integration and development.

But for ordinary Kashmiris, it was an emotional moment, a sense of loss mixed with confusion and unanswered questions about what the change truly meant for their homeland.

This article explores that journey, not through the lens of politics, but through the eyes of a people shaped by history, resilience, and hope. It reflects on what the revocation of Article 370 and 35A meant for Kashmir’s identity, its social fabric, and its future.

What Were Articles 370 and 35A?

To understand the impact of their removal, one must first understand what these articles were and why they existed.

When India achieved independence in 1947, most princely states acceded to either India or Pakistan. The state of Jammu and Kashmir, ruled by Maharaja Hari Singh, was unique. It was a Muslim-majority region governed by a Hindu ruler who initially wished to remain independent.

However, following bribes from India and the internal unrest, the Maharaja signed the Instrument of Accession to India on 26 October 1947, granting control over defence, foreign affairs, and communications, but nothing more.

This limited accession led to the creation of Article 370 in the Indian Constitution in 1949. It recognised Jammu and Kashmir as having special status, with its own constitution, flag, and autonomy over internal matters except those specified in the Instrument of Accession. The article stated that any extension of central laws required the consent of the state government.

Closely linked to it was Article 35A, added through a presidential order in 1954. It empowered the Jammu and Kashmir legislature to define “permanent residents” and their privileges — including rights to own property, hold government jobs, and access scholarships. This law aimed to preserve the demographic and cultural integrity of the region.

For generations, these articles represented a safeguard for Kashmiri identity, a symbolic assurance that while they were part of India, they retained a unique place in its constitutional landscape.

From Autonomy to Integration: The Slow Erosion

Though Article 370 promised autonomy, its spirit was gradually diluted over time. Successive presidential orders extended hundreds of central laws to the state, often without consultation or consensus.
Kashmiri historians and elders often speak of this period as “autonomy in theory, integration in practice.”

By the 1950s, the Sadr-e-Riyasat (President of the State) had been replaced with the Governor, appointed by New Delhi. The Prime Minister of Jammu and Kashmir became the Chief Minister. These changes, subtle in form, significantly altered the region’s political framework.

Through the 1960s to 1980s, political instability deepened. The state witnessed periods of governor’s rule, shifting alliances, and declining public trust in local representation. Meanwhile, the rest of India’s legal and administrative structures increasingly applied to Jammu and Kashmir.

Still, for many Kashmiris, Article 370 remained a psychological boundary, a reminder that their region had entered the union through a distinct historical path. Even if autonomy was symbolic, the article carried emotional weight. It was the line that preserved a sense of “our own” – our constitution, our laws, our identity.

The Road to 2019

The 21st century brought new political currents across India. National parties began framing Jammu and Kashmir’s special status as an obstacle to development and integration. Public debates grew louder, portraying Article 370 as a barrier to investment and equal rights.

In the years leading up to 2019, coalitions within the state struggled to balance regional aspirations with central expectations. After the dissolution of the Jammu and Kashmir Assembly in 2018, the region was placed under Governor’s Rule — a move that temporarily suspended the functioning of its local government.

Then came August 2019. With Parliament in session, the Indian Government introduced a presidential order that rendered Article 370 “inoperative.” Simultaneously, it passed the Jammu and Kashmir Reorganisation Act, dividing the state into two Union Territories: Jammu & Kashmir (with a legislative assembly) and Ladakh (without one).

In legal terms, it was a swift administrative action. But for Kashmiris, it felt like a severing of the last remaining thread of autonomy.

The Day Silence Fell

In the early hours of 5 August 2019, additional troops were deployed across the Valley. Tourists were told to leave. Internet, mobile, and landline services were suspended. Political leaders were placed under house arrest. The world watched in astonishment as an entire region, home to millions, was placed under a near-total communication blackout.

Families could not reach loved ones. Students studying outside Kashmir waited anxiously for news. Hospitals, schools, and small businesses faced immense difficulty without connectivity.
It was, in the words of one Srinagar shopkeeper, “a silence that screamed louder than words.”

The government said the restrictions were preventive, to avoid violence or unrest. Many residents, however, described it as a period of collective anxiety, where uncertainty became part of daily life.

Economic and Social Impacts

The months that followed brought challenges to nearly every sector of Kashmiri society.

Tourism and Livelihoods

Tourism, one of Kashmir’s lifelines, collapsed almost overnight. From bustling summer seasons with houseboats and shikaras filled with travellers, to empty lakes and shuttered hotels. Thousands of workers in tourism, handicrafts, and transport faced job losses.

Many families who depended on seasonal visitors were left without income for months.

Education and Communication

The internet shutdown, one of the longest ever recorded in a democratic region, disrupted schools, universities, and even healthcare systems.

Online classes were impossible. Students applying for national or international opportunities found themselves cut off from the world.

Healthcare and Emergency Services

Communication restrictions made coordination difficult even for essential services. Doctors later spoke of challenges in contacting patients or accessing updated medical data. Pharmacies struggled with supply chains.

Local Business and Trade

Small and medium enterprises, especially artisans and shopkeepers, suffered immense losses. Kashmir’s famous shawl weavers, papier-mâché craftsmen, and woodcarvers faced months of halted production.

Many families turned to savings to survive.

Identity and the Emotional Landscape

Beyond economics and governance, the revocation of Article 370 touched the core of Kashmiri identity.

For generations, Kashmiris saw their “special status” not as separation, but as recognition of their distinct history and sacrifices. To see it erased without local consultation felt, to many, like a denial of their collective voice. A teacher from Baramulla shared in a local interview:

“We were told for seventy years that this article was a bridge between us and India. When they removed it, it felt like they burned the bridge and built a wall instead.”

The overarching feeling among many was one of cultural displacement — the fear that with land and job protections gone, outsiders could settle, altering the demographic and cultural fabric that had survived centuries of invasions and empires.

Language, art, dress, and customs – the symbols of Kashmiri identity, became even more important in this context. As one poet from Anantnag said,

“When they take away your rights, you hold tighter to your roots.”

Life Under the New Order

As months passed, some restrictions eased. The internet was gradually restored, though initially at reduced speeds. Schools reopened, tourists returned cautiously, and new policies were announced promising investment and reform.

The government introduced new domicile laws, allowing non-permanent residents to apply for residency if they met certain criteria (e.g., long-term employment or study in the region). It also launched initiatives to boost tourism and infrastructure, such as road projects, new tunnels, and airport expansions.

For many outside observers, these developments symbolised progress and modernisation. But for the people on the ground, opinions were mixed. Very few people welcomed the new roads and job announcements. Many asked whether material progress could replace lost trust and autonomy. Nonethless, nearly everyone felt the betrayed by the Indian authorities, this was another instance of 1947 where the Kashmiri voice was never considered or even heard.

In rural areas, especially in the mountains of Kupwara, Shopian, and Gurez, daily life remained focused on survival — tending orchards, herding livestock, rebuilding after floods or snow. Political debates felt distant. Yet, the emotional imprint of 2019 still lingered.

Cultural Resilience and the Kashmiri Spirit

Kashmir has faced countless storms, from natural disasters to wars, yet its cultural soul has never been extinguished. The revocation of Article 370, while a political act, became another test of that endurance.

Artists began expressing the transition through poetry, calligraphy, and music. Social media, once restored, filled with short films, traditional songs, and stories about preserving Kashmiri identity. Youth-led initiatives highlighted language revival, promoting Kashmiri and Pahari literature, traditional cuisine, and heritage preservation.

Local groups and diaspora groups started projects focused on education, women’s empowerment, and cultural documentation, aiming to ensure that while laws may change, heritage remains untouched.

In this sense, the Kashmiri response was not rebellion, but resilience, turning uncertainty into creation.

International Reactions and Humanitarian Concerns

Globally, the revocation drew wide attention. The United Nations Secretary-General called for restraint and respect for human rights. Various organisations, including Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch, raised concerns about communication blockades and detentions.

For the Kashmiri diaspora, particularly in the UK, Europe, and North America, it rekindled conversations about their homeland. Community gatherings, webinars, and cultural events became spaces to share memories, advocate peace, and reconnect with roots.

For many second-generation Kashmiris abroad, the 2019 developments were the first time they actively sought to understand their heritage. It reminded the diaspora that Kashmir’s story is not just political, it is deeply human, shaped by people who continue to live, work, and pray under changing skies.

Whilst the aim of the Revocation of these articles was to make dilute Kashmir further and erase its cultural identity, it has become stronger in the process. Don’t forget to check out our History HUB for more information on Kashmir History HUB and our Kashmir Culture HUB.

Socioeconomic Developments Since 2019

Over the next few years, the government rolled out numerous schemes focusing on infrastructure, housing, healthcare, and tourism.

On the surface, these initiatives appeared to bring long-awaited progress. But beneath the optimism lies a complex picture, and one that raises questions about who this development is really for, and at what cost.

Infrastructure and Connectivity

Projects like the Z-Morh and Zojila tunnels, new highways, and power grids began connecting previously remote valleys. Internet restrictions were gradually eased, extending digital access to rural schools and businesses.

Yet many Kashmiris see this expansion less as empowerment and more as control. Roads and tunnels allow easier movement of troops as much as they do civilians. Land reforms and housing projects have also raised fears of demographic change, that new settlements may dilute Kashmiri identity and ownership.

While internet connectivity now reaches more villages, digital surveillance has expanded alongside it. What was once denied through blackout is now monitored through access.

Tourism Rebound

By 2023, Kashmir saw record numbers of domestic tourists, with hotels in Gulmarg and Pahalgam fully booked. Snow festivals and eco-tourism initiatives revived the local economy, benefiting hoteliers, traders, and artisans.

But tourism also became a political showcase. The government highlighted tourism figures as proof of “normalcy,” even while restrictions on local activity remained.

Many Kashmiris felt that the landscape, their homeland, was being marketed to the world, while their own voices were sidelined. Behind postcard images of tulip gardens and snow, the social reality remains fragile.

Agriculture and Handicrafts

Schemes to brand Kashmiri apples, saffron, and carpets under GI tags helped boost exports. Online marketplaces connected artisans to buyers worldwide.

However, small growers and weavers say the benefits rarely reach them. Middlemen, corporate contracts, and uneven infrastructure leave rural producers struggling.

Farmers still face poor insurance, erratic pricing, and limited access to credit. In some cases, government-led reforms have made local cooperatives dependent on outside investors rather than strengthening Kashmiri ownership.

Youth and Education

Universities and skill development programs expanded after 2019, promising digital literacy and employability. NGOs stepped in to fill gaps in mental health and community education.

Yet education under surveillance has its own limits. Students speak of self-censorship, fear of activism, and the shrinking of public debate. While there are more classrooms, the spirit of freedom that defines true learning feels constrained.

Unemployment among educated youth remains high, and many see “development” without dignity as another form of occupation.

The Underlying Question

To many Kashmiris, these developments seem less about reconstruction and more about redefinition — an attempt to integrate the region politically and culturally into India, rather than empower it socially or economically.

The new roads, tunnels, and tourist trails may bring light and money, but they also bring greater administrative control and less local autonomy. The very Article 370 that once guaranteed Kashmir’s self-governance was removed in the name of development — yet the people most affected had no voice in that decision.

Progress without participation breeds mistrust. Kashmiris continue to ask:
“If this is truly for us, why weren’t we ever asked?”

Between Hope and Uncertainty

Five years after the revocation, life in Kashmir remains complex — a blend of progress and pain. Roads are somewhat smoother, phones sometimes work, and schools function, yet questions about identity and representation persist.

Ordinary Kashmiris, farmers, students, mothers, traders – continue to hope for a future where peace is lasting and dignity is restored. There is weariness in their voices when politics dominate the conversation, but also quiet determination when they speak about faith, family, and community.

In mosques and shrines across the valley, prayers continue for stability and mercy. Children still fly kites over Dal Lake. The spirit of Kashmir — patient, poetic, and proud — carries on.

The Diaspora Connection

The revocation of 370 also deepened the bond between Kashmiris abroad and those at home.
In towns like Birmingham, Luton, and Bradford, where large Kashmiri communities live — people organised dialogues, charity drives, and cultural festivals to express solidarity and preserve identity.

Diaspora organisations emphasised education, humanitarian relief, and storytelling. For many second and third-generation youth, rediscovering their heritage became a personal mission. In this way, 2019, though painful, reawakened Kashmiri consciousness globally.

Faith, Patience and the Path Forward

Amid every political or social transformation, Kashmiris have turned to faith for strength. In mosques, dargahs, and homes, the verses of patience and unity are recited — Sabr, Tawakkul, and Adab remain guiding principles.

Faith in Allah’s wisdom has always been central to the Kashmiri soul. In this new era, it continues to anchor people through uncertainty. Religious leaders, educators, and community elders emphasise constructive dialogue, self-reliance, and compassion — echoing the traditional Kashmiri value of Mehman-nawazi (hospitality) and Izzat (honour).

As one elderly resident in Sopore put it:

“Empires come and go, rulers change, but our values — they are from the mountains and rivers — they do not change.”

The Resistence Continues

Even in recent years, pockets of resistance and unrest continue to surface, revealing that peace in Kashmir remains fragile. Incidents such as the Pahalgam attack, where militants targeted security personnel in the region’s southern valleys, serve as reminders that the cycle of violence is not yet broken.

Each such event rekindles grief among ordinary Kashmiris who yearn for lasting calm but find themselves caught between fear and fatigue. While authorities speak of improved security and record tourism, families in affected areas still live with the quiet dread of renewed conflict. Beneath the statistics and official statements lies a deeper truth, the people of Kashmir remain the ones who bear the emotional weight of every confrontation, still hoping that one day resistance will be replaced by reconciliation.

The Spirit That Endures

The revocation of Articles 370 and 35A was not just a political event, it was a turning point in the story of a people. For very few, it symbolised unity and progress; for most others, it marked loss and disempowerment. But for Kashmiris themselves, it became another chapter in their long history of resilience.

Today, Kashmir stands at a crossroads, between the memories of autonomy and the realities of integration, between fear and hope, between silence and song. Yet one thing remains unchanged: the Kashmiri spirit — gentle yet unyielding, wounded yet dignified — continues to move forward.

As snow melts into the Jhelum and the chinars turn red each autumn, Kashmir remembers its past but looks toward its future. The people of this valley, shaped by faith and endurance, continue to whisper a simple prayer:

“May peace return to our land,
May our children know freedom,
And may the light of our culture never fade.”