License to Kill: Cordon-and-Search Operations Turn IIOJK into a War Zone

In Indian Illegally Occupied Jammu and Kashmir (IIOJK), the phrase “Cordon and Search Operation” (CASO) has become synonymous with terror, not security. Following the recent Pahalgam incident, Indian forces have launched sweeping operations across the valley under the guise of counterterrorism, which locals describe as a brutal license to kill. These actions have pushed Kashmir deeper into chaos, revealing the Indian military’s unchecked power and exposing the grim realities of a population under siege.

Post-Pahalgam, villages across South Kashmir, including Anantnag, Pulwama, and Shopian, have been transformed into virtual war zones. Roads are blocked, communication is cut off, and house-to-house raids are conducted at gunpoint. Behind the sanitized military terminology, CASOs have become a cover for mass detentions, extrajudicial killings, and collective punishment.

In just a few days, over 4,000 arrests have been reported, many involving students, journalists, and community leaders. Disappearances, unreported deaths, and arbitrary detentions have skyrocketed, leaving families shattered and entire communities paralyzed with fear.

Indian forces, backed by extreme-right groups like ABVP, are targeting Muslim youth even outside IIOJK. Students from Assam University Silchar and SS College Hailakandi were arrested after politically charged complaints from ABVP, raising serious concerns over the state machinery being used to suppress dissent and profile Muslims. Activists say these arrests are part of a broader Hindutva agenda seeking to mute any resistance or expression of Kashmiri identity.

In a rare and powerful act of resistance, locals in one region erupted in protest against an Indian Army camp following a spate of midnight raids and violent crackdowns. Videos circulating on social media showed residents confronting soldiers, demanding an end to enforced curfews, interrogations, and physical abuse. The Indian military’s reaction—firing tear gas and detaining protestors—has only added to the fury.

What the Indian government calls “stability operations,” Kashmiris experience as a military occupation: intrusive surveillance, drone patrols, psychological warfare, and curfew-bound lives.

Prime Minister Narendra Modi continues to blame “terrorists” for disrupting peace in Kashmir. But behind this narrative lies a disturbing truth: India maintains nearly 700,000 troops in the region—the highest military-to-civilian ratio in the world. Troops operate under draconian laws like the Armed Forces Special Powers Act (AFSPA) and the Public Safety Act (PSA)—legal shields that allow soldiers to kill on suspicion, arrest without charge, and suppress without consequence.

International human rights organizations have long documented these patterns of abuse. From rape and torture to mass arbitrary detentions, India’s military response in IIOJK goes far beyond any conventional definition of counterterrorism.

Despite years of Indian efforts to project “normalcy” in the region—tourism drives, G20 events, and propaganda—Kashmir remains far from integrated. As one local human rights advocate put it: “Force is used not for peace, but to crush identity. What India wants is silence, not harmony.”

Demographic engineering is another tool in India’s arsenal. Since the abrogation of Article 370 in 2019, authorities have fast-tracked domicile certificates for outsiders, allowed non-Kashmiris to purchase land, and tried to change the electoral landscape. These moves are widely seen as an attempt to dilute Kashmiri Muslim majority status and disenfranchise native voices.

Ordinary Kashmiris live in fear. Drones hover overhead. Young boys vanish after being taken for questioning. Homes are turned into interrogation cells, with families forced to surrender their mobile phones and passwords. Night-time raids are the norm, not the exception. Women report sexual harassment and intimidation during searches, while children suffer from PTSD due to constant exposure to violence and chaos.

One resident of Pulwama told local media, “Every knock at the door could be our last. We live under siege, not law.”

Human rights bodies report that more than 13,000 civilians have been killed between 1989 and 2019 alone, with thousands more maimed or disappeared. India, instead of investigating or seeking reconciliation, has granted complete impunity to its forces. Kashmir, already among the world’s most militarized zones, is now arguably one of the most lawless places on earth—where the rule of law ends where Indian boots begin.

Global human rights watchdogs like Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch have repeatedly condemned India’s actions in IIOJK. Yet, meaningful international pressure remains absent. Strategic partnerships, trade deals, and geopolitical rivalries often override humanitarian concerns. Kashmiris are left to fight their battle in darkness, unheard and unseen.

India’s so-called counterinsurgency strategy has now become a tool for demographic, political, and cultural control. The relentless deployment of military force, the abuse of legal cover like AFSPA, and the marginalization of dissenting voices expose the hollowness of India’s peace narrative.

The current wave of CASOs is not about security—it is about domination. Kashmir is not experiencing peace; it is enduring a slow-motion genocide. Until the global community confronts the reality in IIOJK, the cries for justice will continue to echo unheard across the Himalayan valley.