Traditionally, Kashmiris saw Muharram as a time for sorrow and mourning. But like many other parts of life in Kashmir, politics has deeply affected it. Many young Kashmiris now feel that political groups, especially the BJP, use Muharram not to truly respect Imam Hussain, but to put on a show for political gain. They believe this is done to appear inclusive and win support both in India and abroad. For example, people in the valley often see BJP leaders sending flowers or posting condolence messages during Muharram rituals not out of real respect, but to look good publicly, even though their actual policies are harsh and controlling.
The Muharram Ban in Srinagar: Lifted, But Not Forgotten
The 8th and 10th Muharram processions in Srinagar, once symbolic of Shia identity in Kashmir, were banned in 1989 with the eruption of armed insurgency in the valley. For over three decades, successive governments upheld the ban, citing “security concerns.” These restrictions were often seen by many as a systematic denial of religious freedom, especially when mourners attempting traditional routes from Abi Guzar to Dalgate were detained, lathi-charged, and sometimes even beaten. In 2022, over 150 mourners were arrested in Srinagar for defying the ban and participating in peaceful processions. Video evidence from past years showed security personnel using tear gas, detaining youth, and targeting even women and the elderly. Once vibrant with marsiyas and nohas, the traditional procession routes were regularly sealed with barbed wire, and localities like Zadibal, Hassanabad, and Saida Kadal turned into heavily militarized zones.
However, recent developments have shifted the narrative. In 2023, for the first time in 34 years, authorities allowed the 8th Muharram procession along the traditional route, an unprecedented move welcomed by the Shia community. It marked a symbolic restoration of faith and cultural identity, though many still remain cautious, questioning whether this is a permanent change or a one-time political gesture.
Despite the lifting of the formal ban, the scars of years are still there. The community continues to call for dignity, freedom, and full restoration of religious rights beyond symbolic permissions. The road ahead may be open, but the memories of barricades, arrests, and denials remain etched in Kashmir’s collective conscience.
Uneven Narratives: One Valley, Two Realities
The difference is over enforcement of laws is even more pronounced when compared to areas such as Kargil and Ladakh where large-scale Muharram processions are not just tolerated, but are even supported by officials. Ever since the reorganization of Jammu and Kashmir in 2019, the state has tried to draw attention to the documented peaceful Muharram procession in Ladakh, while simultaneously ignoring the equivalent processions in the valley.
In Srinagar, mourners walk under drone surveillance, between checkpoints, or in complete silence because even chants of “Ya Hussain” are often perceived as “provocative slogans.” Section 144 is routinely imposed, mobile internet is slowed or cut off, and blackouts during the holy month have become the norm. Mourning here is not just an emotional act it has become a political act.
The government allows people to remember certain events when it helps its image but tries to silence them when it could lead to emotional protest. Because of this, many people feel that Muharram has also been turned into just another tool to shape public opinion and control the story being told.
Muharram in Kashmir: Still Unbroken
And yet, despite political co-opting, Kashmir’s Muharram refuses to be rewritten. Its power does not lie in government approval or disapproval. It lies in the barefoot child beating his chest for Hussain, the grandmother reciting marsiyas in a dim-lit room, in the silent gatherings in homes and Mohallas, where grief is practiced quietly but powerfully.
In 2023, Amnesty International, Human Rights Watch, and several Indian rights groups condemned the state’s heavy-handed policing of Muharram in Kashmir. The J&K High Court Bar Association has time and again called the processional bans a violation of constitutional guarantees under Article 25 (freedom of religion), but to no avail.
The message of Karbala continues not in press releases, but in tears, resolve, and remembrance. The story of Imam Hussain is not one of passive mourning but of active dignity in the face of injustice.
Standing Strong Through Faith
The observance of Muharram in Kashmir continues despite bans, pandemics, and decades of political turmoil with dignity, devotion, and discipline. The nohas and silent processions are all part of a resistance that is neither violent nor reactionary, but deeply spiritual. It is a resistance rooted in memory, identity, and community.
For many Shia youth in Kashmir, Muharram is not just a religious obligation. It is a form of cultural survival. Its a connection to a larger story of resilience, stretching from Karbala to Kashmir. It is an assertion that truth, even when whispered, cannot be erased.
Even in silence, the story of Karbala echoes. Its lessons are clear: Dignity is greater than life, and silence in the face of tyranny is betrayal.
Beyond Sectarianism
And yet, one must remember: this is not just a Shia issue. The story of Karbala is not confined to sectarian boundaries. I, a Sunni, raised among Shia brothers and friends, believe that Imam Hussain belongs to all of us. His legacy is not limited by sect. His sacrifice was for justice, dignity, and truth values that transcend creed and community.
In every cry of “Ya Hussain,” there echoes the voice of the oppressed, the voice of conscience against power. This call is not political, it is human.
The Real Kashmir Narrative
In the end, Kashmir’s Muharram is not what is shown in official statements or tweeted floral tributes. It is what survives under curfews. It is what bleeds in silence. It is the boy walking barefoot through alleyways under police gaze, the old man whispering marsiyas behind shuttered windows, the mother offering tea to mourners as helicopters fly overhead.
It is truth buried deep beating in every chest that mourns not for spectacle, but for meaning.
The guest author, Sahil Khan, a 2nd year student pursuing B.A (hons) Persian from Jamia Millia Islamia
Edited by: Aamna
Disclaimer: The views expressed are those of the author, and do not necessarily represent those of TJR.
