Omar Abdullah’s Kashmir Gamble
Peerzada Musrat Shah
In the crisp autumn air of the Kashmir Valley, where chinar leaves blaze in fiery reds, Chief Minister Omar Abdullah marked a milestone today: one year since he was sworn in as the first elected leader of Jammu and Kashmir’s Union Territory status. The ceremony last October was a spectacle of cautious optimism – a coalition of the National Conference (NC) and Congress, fresh off a decisive electoral win, promising to reclaim dignity, identity, and development from the shadows of 2019’s constitutional upheaval. But as the sun sets on this anniversary, the glow has faded. What was sold as a roadmap to redemption feels more like a detour into disillusionment. Achievements? A handful of welfare tweaks amid a torrent of unfulfilled pledges. Challenges? They loom larger than the Pir Panjal peaks, casting long shadows over a government that arrived with fanfare but has delivered mostly frustration.
Recall the eve of the 2024 elections. Omar Abdullah, scion of the Abdullah dynasty that has shaped Kashmiri politics for generations, unveiled the NC’s manifesto – a 12-point “guarantee” titled *Dignity, Identity, and Development*. It was a clarion call, echoing the party’s storied legacy of Sheikh Abdullah’s “Naya Kashmir” vision. Restore Article 370 and 35A, the special status stripped in 2019. Push for full statehood, redrawing the Jammu and Kashmir Reorganisation Act. Repeal the draconian Public Safety Act (PSA), which has jailed thousands without trial. Release political prisoners, especially youth. Create 100,000 jobs via the J&K Youth Employment Generation Act within three months. Hand out six free LPG cylinders annually to the poor, 200 units of free electricity monthly, free public transport for women, and enhanced marriage assistance from Rs 50,000 to Rs 75,000. Implement the 2000 Autonomy Resolution. Protect land and jobs from “outsiders.” And, crucially, encourage dialogue between India and Pakistan to ease the Kashmir impasse.
These weren’t mere platitudes; they were a covenant with a weary electorate. After a decade without assembly elections – marked by internet blackouts, detentions, and central rule under Lieutenant Governor Manoj Sinha – voters turned out in droves. The NC-Congress alliance clinched 49 seats in the 90-member house, with NC alone bagging 42. Omar, contesting from Ganderbal and Budgam, won both by landslides. It was a mandate for restoration, not rhetoric.
Fast-forward 365 days, and the ledger tells a stark tale. Of those 12 guarantees, just one – free public transport for women on state-run electric buses – has been rolled out in earnest. Partial credits go to welfare bumps: pensions for the elderly, handicapped, and widows hiked from Rs 1,000 to Rs 1,500 (Rs 2,000 for those over 80); free ration doubled to 10 kg per person for Antyodaya Anna Yojana families; marriage aid enhanced to Rs 75,000 for the poorest; and stamp duty waived on intra-family property gifts. Mission Youth has funneled self-employment schemes to thousands of unemployed graduates, and recruitment drives by the J&K Services Selection Board and Public Service Commission have kicked off for thousands of posts. Infrastructure ticks along: grid stations upgraded in Ganderbal, synthetic athletic tracks and football turfs inaugurated, roads macadamized in Baramulla. Tourism, J&K’s economic lifeline, saw a brief resurgence – Omar’s Ahmedabad jog along the Sabarmati, selfie-strewn promo videos, and promises of southern India tie-ups aimed to lure filmmakers and families.
Yet, these are the low-hanging fruits, the easy wins in a garden overgrown with weeds. The big-ticket items? They’ve withered on the vine. Statehood – the manifesto’s North Star – remains a mirage. The Supreme Court in December 2023 mandated elections by September 2024, with statehood to follow. Delimitation done, polls held, voters engaged – but New Delhi’s silence is deafening. Omar admitted in August that expectations have been dashed, pinning hopes on a post-BJP India. The NC passed a cabinet resolution and assembly motion for restoration, but it’s performative politics in a UT where the Lieutenant Governor holds veto power over police, transfers, and land. Article 370? A non-starter under Modi. PSA repeal? Zilch – over 1,000 languish in jails, including youth activists whose release was vowed. The 100,000 jobs act? Not even tabled. Free electricity and LPG? Rollout stalled by metering woes and fiscal crunch; only 200 units for the poorest, and even that’s patchy. Autonomy Resolution? Buried under UT rules that empower the Centre.
The scorecard isn’t just underwhelming; it’s emblematic of a deeper malaise. Critics, from BJP’s Sunil Sharma to PDP’s Waheed Parra, decry a “year of inaction.” BJP’s Tarun Chugh thundered, “Zero performance, zero development – just politics as usual.” Even NC insiders whisper of disillusionment. In Jammu, where NC scraped just six seats, resentment simmers over a Kashmir-heavy cabinet – only three Jammu ministers in a 10-member council. The budget speech in March? A laundry list of Modi-era glories, ignoring daily wagers, SC/ST quotas, and contractor dues.
The challenges have multiplied like militancy’s ghosts. Security remains J&K’s eternal thorn. The Pahalgam attack in April 2025 – 26 civilians slaughtered by militants – shattered the “normalcy” narrative. Cloudbursts ravaged the Mata Vaishno Devi shrine and Machail, closing the Srinagar-Jammu highway for over a month, crippling horticulture exports – J&K’s Rs 15,000 crore lifeline. Tourism, buoyed to 2.5 crore visitors in 2024, cratered post-floods; heavy rains in September washed away gains, stranding pilgrims and strapping hoteliers.
Economically, it’s a debt trap. J&K’s liabilities hit Rs 1.25 lakh crore – 52% of GSDP – dwarfing the Rs 1.12 lakh crore budget. Power woes persist: winter shortages, unmetered connections delaying free units, and a Rs 5,429 crore treasury overdraft. Reservation policy? A powder keg. Post-2019 tweaks slashed open merit to 30%, sparking student protests; a sub-committee formed in December 2024 still dithers. Industrialists clamor for SOTS extensions from J&K Bank, power amnesties, and smart parking sans fees – pleas met with nods but no action. The LG’s iron grip exacerbates it all: Omar blames “hybrid governance” for bureaucratic logjams, where elected ministers beg for files.
On the ground, the mood is one of weary betrayal. In Srinagar’s Lal Chowk, fruit vendor Ghulam Nabi, 52, shrugs: “We voted for jobs, not resolutions gathering dust. My son waits for a posting while politicians jog in Gujarat.” In Jammu’s Dogra heartland, trader Rakesh Sharma fumes over “Kashmir bias”: “NC promised balance; we got token ministers and empty budgets.” Political observers like Noor Ahmad Masoodi call it “no-governance”: “Omar’s at the helm, but the wheel’s in Delhi.” Social media echoes the chorus: #FailedGovernance trends with barbs like “TikTok CM” for Omar’s promo reels.
Defenders, like NC’s Tanvir Sadiq, counter with resilience: “We’ve restored voices amid terror and floods – statehood is coming.” Rattan Lal Gupta touts “unprecedented progress” in departments from health to power, crediting manifesto fulfillment despite “Centre’s obstructions.” Omar himself, in roundtables, pitches an “elected buffer” for security, urging Centre ties. Yet, he concedes: “We won’t make excuses,” vowing day-night toil.
As winter grips the Valley, J&K teeters. The Abdullah government’s first year isn’t a total washout – welfare doles and sports fields offer succor to the struggling. But against the manifesto’s bold canvas, it’s a sketchy outline. Political disempowerment, economic vise, security specters – the challenges dwarf the gains, breeding a cynicism that could erode NC’s base by 2029. Omar, ever the reluctant warrior who once boycotted polls, now faces a reckoning: Will he pivot from Delhi deference to Delhi defiance? Or will Kashmir’s spring of hope freeze into another winter of wait?
The people, from Pahalgam’s grief-stricken meadows to Jammu’s bustling bazaars, watch with bated breath. They’ve lent their votes; now they demand delivery. In the end, dignity isn’t decreed in manifestos – it’s earned in the trenches of governance. A year in, Omar Abdullah’s Kashmir remains a promise deferred, a dream half-dreamt. The clock ticks toward renewal – or rupture.
