How Abdullahs and Muftis Wielded the Law They Now Call Draconian
I Ahmed Wani
In a move that has ignited widespread protests and political outrage in Jammu and Kashmir, Mehraj Malik, the Aam Aadmi Party (AAP) MLA from Doda, was detained under the Jammu and Kashmir Public Safety Act (PSA) on September 8, 2025. Malik, a first-time legislator who won his seat in the recent assembly elections, was arrested amid allegations of disturbing public order and posing a “grave threat” to peace in the district.
The dossier against him, compiled by Doda Deputy Commissioner Harvinder Singh based on police reports, details a pattern of misconduct, including 18 First Information Reports (FIRs) and 16 daily diary entries from 2021 to 2024. Charges include criminal intimidation, house trespass, promoting enmity between groups, theft of hospital equipment, and obstructing public servants. Malik is accused of using abusive language against officials, such as in a social media video targeting the deputy commissioner over unpaid rent issues, and of spreading misinformation while glorifying violence. Authorities claim he instigated youth, obstructed flood relief, and engaged in a public feud with Singh, whom Malik accused of neglecting victims and filing “fake cases” against his colleagues.
The detention has sparked massive unrest in Doda, with thousands marching in protest, leading to the imposition of Section 163 of the Bharatiya Nyaya Sanhita (formerly Section 144 CrPC) to curb gatherings. Protesters, including supporters from Malik’s constituency, argue he was targeted for advocating better healthcare and infrastructure, issues that resonated with voters in the Chenab Valley. This incident has reignited debates on the PSA, a preventive detention law that allows holding individuals without trial for up to two years if deemed a threat to public order or state security.
The PSA’s origins trace back to 1978, when it was enacted by Sheikh Abdullah’s National Conference (JKNC) government, primarily to combat timber smuggling that was depleting Jammu and Kashmir’s forests. Introduced after the 1975 Indira-Sheikh Accord, the law was meant to prevent activities prejudicial to state security or public order, allowing detention without formal charges. However, its scope ballooned in the 1980s amid rising militancy, becoming a tool for mass detentions under successive JKNC administrations led by Sheikh’s son, Farooq Abdullah.
A notable early misuse under Farooq’s government was the unlawful detention of Bhim Singh, founder of the Jammu and Kashmir National Panthers Party, in 1985. Singh, then a suspended MLA, was imprisoned to prevent him from attending a legislative session, leading to a landmark Supreme Court ruling awarding him compensation for wrongful detention. While records do not explicitly confirm PSA invocation, the case exemplified how preventive laws were wielded against political opponents, bypassing judicial processes and eroding democratic norms.
From 1989 to 2019, the PSA became a cornerstone of counter-militancy operations. Under JKNC Chief Ministers—Sheikh (1975-1982), Farooq (1982-1984, 1986-1990, 1996-2002), and Omar Abdullah (2009-2015)—thousands were detained without evidence, often targeting suspected militants, activists, and civilians. Amnesty International’s 2011 report estimated 8,000 to 20,000 PSA detentions over two decades, many quashed by courts for procedural lapses. The Abdullahs oversaw its expansion, alongside the Armed Forces (Special Powers) Act (AFSPA) in 1990, which enabled indefinite detentions amid violence.
The People’s Democratic Party (PDP), led by Mufti Mohammad Sayeed (2002-2005, 2015-2016) and Mehbooba Mufti (2016-2018), continued this trend despite promises of a “healing touch.” In 2016, following the killing of Hizbul Mujahideen commander Burhan Wani, Mehbooba’s PDP-BJP coalition government detained over 4,000 individuals under PSA to quell months of protests. This included activists, stone-pelters, and separatist leaders, with reports of arbitrary arrests bypassing legal safeguards. Post-Article 370 abrogation in 2019, another wave saw over 4,000 detentions, including mainstream politicians like Omar Abdullah and Mehbooba Mufti themselves.
The current outcry over Malik’s detention—that it is an unprecedented assault on democracy—is misplaced. JKNC and PDP leaders, now decrying the PSA as “draconian,” used it as a weapon against opponents when in power. Omar Abdullah, recently tweeting, “There is no justification for detaining Mehraj Malik under PSA. He’s not a threat to ‘public safety’ & using this discredited law to detain him is wrong,” forgets his own government’s record, where 82% of quashed PSA orders between 2008 and 2014 occurred under JKNC rule. Mehbooba Mufti, who questioned “mass detentions” after a 2025 Pahalgam attack, oversaw similar sweeps in 2016. Neither party abolished the law despite promises; instead, they perpetuated it for political control.
Sheikh Abdullah, lionized for his “land to the tiller” reforms that redistributed estates to peasants, will never be forgiven for birthing this measure. On his death anniversary, September 8—the very day Malik was detained—the incident has sparked debates on the PSA’s future, with calls for repeal amplifying amid protests. PDP leader Iltija Mufti tweeted in 2020 during her mother’s detention: “PSA dossiers are often vague & draconian. Using it against mainstream leaders exposes its abuse.” Yet, hypocrisy reigns.
This pattern echoes in the case of Mohammed Yousuf Tarigami, the veteran CPI(M) leader and five-time MLA from Kulgam. Tarigami’s political journey has been marked by repeated detentions, reflecting the state’s use of repressive measures against dissenters. His first arrest came in 1967, when he was imprisoned for leading peasants in protests against forcible rice procurement. In 1975, he faced another stint in prison; tragically, his wife died during this period, and though granted parole, he was rearrested after just three days.
Tarigami’s most notable early detention under the PSA occurred in 1979, during Sheikh Abdullah’s tenure as Chief Minister. As a young communist activist, he was targeted for protests following the execution of former Pakistan Prime Minister Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, which sparked riots in Kashmir. He also advocated for farmers’ rights and self-determination, opposing state policies like rice procurement. This made him one of the first, if not the very first, individuals booked under the PSA, highlighting its swift pivot from economic crimes to political suppression. In a press conference, when journalist P.N. Jalali from the Press Trust of India asked about the arrest, Sheikh Abdullah dismissively referred to him as “Woh Jo Tarigam Wala” (the one from Tarigam, his native village), a moniker that stuck and evolved into his widely known surname, Tarigami.
Over the decades, Tarigami endured multiple detentions, underscoring his role as a persistent voice for the oppressed. In 2019, following the abrogation of Article 370, he was placed under house arrest in Srinagar for 35 days. An ailing Tarigami was eventually shifted to AIIMS in Delhi for treatment after CPI(M) general secretary Sitaram Yechury filed a habeas corpus petition, leading to Supreme Court intervention. Though not explicitly under PSA in this instance—unlike contemporaries like Farooq Abdullah—it exemplified the broader clampdown on opposition figures. Tarigami later criticized such actions, stating in a 2019 press conference, “I am not a foreigner, Farooq Abdullah is not a terrorist,” decrying the arbitrary nature of detentions.
Malik’s case is not an anomaly but part of a long continuum of abuse. Until parties match rhetoric with action, the PSA remains a blot on Jammu and Kashmir’s democracy, detaining voices rather than addressing grievances.
