Home Editorial The truth behind July 13 in Kashmir

    The truth behind July 13 in Kashmir

    Every year, as political narratives resurface around July 13, it becomes crucial to revisit the truths obscured by selective memory and politically motivated symbolism. What is often commemorated by some as “Martyrs’ Day” is, in reality, viewed by many—nationalist voices—as sedition against the sovereign state and some go the extent of terming it as a Black Day that marked the beginning of communal violence, in Jammu Kashmir that was a cleverly crafted by British imperialist.

     

    The events of July 13, 1931, did not occur in isolation. They were preceded by a sequence of incidents that heightened tensions within the then princely state of Jammu and Kashmir. One key figure was Abdul Qadeer, originally a cook for a British Officer who was an outsider possibly sent on a mission. He came to Srinagar and delivered an impassioned highly communal speech at the Khanqah-e-Moula mosque on June 21, 1931, calling for ‘Jihad’ against the state and for overthrowing the Hindu Ruler and to establish the rule of ‘Believers’. He was arrested on sedition charge and for safety reasons; his trial was scheduled for July 13 at Srinagar Central Jail. A big gathering for the Zuhr prayer—assembled outside the jail, demanding Qadir’s release. During protest, a section of miscreants attacked the jail to get Qadir and other prisoners freed. The prison guards opened fire, killing 22 attackers. The resulting communal violence that followed left a trail of arson, looting, and killing of Hindus.

     

    Far from a peaceful demonstration, the event was part of a larger design to challenge the authority of the state that paved the way for increased British control in Jammu Kashmir. The anarchy had less to do with civil liberties and more to do with religious radicalism and political manipulation, which ultimately led to attacks on the Kashmiri Hindu minority.

     

    For the Kashmiri Hindu community, July 13 is remembered not with pride, but with trauma and sorrow. It is infamously referred to as ‘Bhat Loot’, symbolizing the first organized pogrom against Hindus in the Valley after the end of Afghan rule in Kashmir. Places like Vicharnag, Bohri Kadal, and Maharaj Ganj were plundered. Temples desecrated. Homes and shops were looted. Innocent lives lost. It was not a struggle for justice—it was a brutal reminder of how communal hatred, once unleashed, spares no one.

     

    In the wake of Article 370’s abrogation, the government rightly done away with the public holiday on July 13, refusing to honor those who revolted against the state and their actions sowed division and caused bloodshed. As senior BJP leaders have reiterated, such observances glorify rebellion and sedition against the sovereign state by provoking communal passion in the name of resistance.

     

    We must remember that hating a legitimate ruler merely for his being Hindu was not less denying legacy of Maharaja Hari Singh — who was a progressive and secular ruler who laid the foundation of institutions that continue to serve the people of J&K to name a few – J&K High Court, Jammu and Kashmir Bank, the Residency Laws, Flood channels, Education and Hospitals besides bringing significant social reforms etc. His commitment to modernization and state-building was well appreciated, and attempts to vilify his legacy serve only political ends.

     

    Ironically, those who today glorify July 13 as a symbol of resistance are the same who uphold and benefit from the very institutions and laws established by Maharaja Hari Singh—such as the State Subject laws—which they otherwise vilify when politically expedient. This blatant inconsistency exposes the deeper hypocrisy and selective memory employed by political entities like the National Conference and PDP. These parties have long sought to reinterpret acts of communal aggression as moments of political awakening, thereby whitewashing the violence of 1931 for ideological gain.

    If martyrdom is the yardstick for political sacrifice, then why does the same honor not extend to those who laid down their lives during the Praja Parishad movement? Dozens of protesters were killed in police firing under Sheikh Abdullah’s administration—an administration not even elected through democratic mandate at the time. Their demand was simple: full integration of Jammu and Kashmir with the rest of India. Yet, their sacrifice finds no place in official commemorations, revealing the deeply entrenched double standards of convenience that continue to shape Kashmir’s political discourse.

    July 13, therefore, should not be celebrated as a day of pride, but remembered as a grim chapter marked by betrayal, communal bloodshed, and a carefully orchestrated British conspiracy. It stands as a somber reminder of how sectarian politics, when fueled by imperialist interests, can tear apart the social fabric of a diverse land—leaving behind wounds that still ache generations later.