Muhammad Elyass
The stunning valley and rich traditions of Kashmir—a land celebrated for its beauty—are sadly being stained by a persistent and uncomfortable reality: the deeply entrenched practice of dividing people based on caste. This is not an issue to be whispered about. It is an urgent social crisis that demands open discussion and decisive action. Only then can we hope to build a truly fair, equal, and peaceful society.
This outdated and damaging system cuts across communities, holding us back and mocking our collective dream of unity. The social stratification, often unspoken yet deeply felt, is particularly visible in the way surnames such as Peer and Shah are perceived in Jammu and Kashmir. These divisions leave a troubling mark on our shared conscience.
It is never easy to criticise a system one is born into. I belong to a family that carries the “Peer” surname. Yet instead of pride, I often feel discomfort—sometimes even repulsion. I consciously avoid using the prefix or mentioning it during introductions. This is not a rejection of ancestry, but a rejection of the attitudes that have grown around it. Sadly, some people from this background display a sense of undeserved superiority: a belief in inherited purity, moral perfection, and even exclusive ownership of religious truth. This mindset stands in sharp contrast to the humility and moral discipline that true faith demands.
Historically, systems of social organisation—what later evolved into caste—likely began as simple identifiers of occupation or lineage. In their earliest form, they were practical labels, not tools of hierarchy. Over time, however, these identities were distorted into rigid and inherited ranks. What followed was discrimination, exclusion, and social walls that find no support in the teachings of Islam or any other ethical tradition.
In Jammu and Kashmir, this distortion has resulted in a troubling reality where certain groups—especially those bearing Peer and Shah surnames—are often viewed, and sometimes view themselves, as socially superior. This belief does not remain theoretical. It plays out in everyday interactions through condescension, subtle disrespect, or outright contempt toward those perceived as belonging to “lower” castes. Such behaviour is not merely socially rude; it is a direct assault on human dignity. It deepens inequality, breeds resentment, and weakens the social fabric that holds communities together.
This attitude also directly contradicts Islamic teachings. Islam makes no distinction of worth based on lineage, wealth, or social status. The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) explicitly rejected tribal and ancestral superiority, calling instead for universal brotherhood and equality before God.
Supporters of caste-based prestige often argue that the ancestors of today’s Peer and Shah families were deeply pious, learned, and spiritually influential. Historically, this is often true. Many such figures played significant roles in shaping Kashmir’s religious and cultural life, and their contributions deserve respect. However, it is a grave mistake to assume that their descendants automatically inherit spiritual merit, wisdom, or moral superiority. Faith is not a genetic trait. Each individual stands alone before Allah, accountable only for their own actions and intentions.
The Holy Quran is unambiguous on this matter. True honour, it states, lies not in lineage or surnames but in Taqwa—righteousness, moral conduct, and consciousness of God.
One of the most damaging consequences of this caste mindset is the rigid insistence on endogamy—marrying strictly within one’s perceived caste. Enforced by family elders and community pressure, this practice restricts personal freedom and turns marriage into a transaction meant to preserve an illusion of caste purity. It blocks social integration and prevents the formation of bonds that could foster understanding and unity. When individuals dare to defy these norms and choose partners based on love, compatibility, and shared values, they often face hostility, family conflict, and long-lasting social rifts.
A recent incident in our neighbourhood illustrates this reality. A family with the Peer surname supported their daughter’s decision to marry someone of her choice. However, once extended relatives learned that the young man belonged to the Mir caste, opposition arose immediately. This single detail was enough to override happiness, consent, and reason—revealing how deeply prejudice is embedded in everyday life.
Equally troubling are the internal disputes within Peer and Shah communities themselves over who is “original,” who is “copied,” and who is more “authentic.” These arguments are not only baseless but also expose the fragility of caste superiority itself. The Quran clearly reminds us that all humans descend from a single pair, Adam and Eve. Differences in tribe, race, or family exist for recognition and mutual respect—not for hierarchy or discrimination.
Perhaps most disturbing is the pressure this system places on people from other castes to falsely claim Peer or Shah identity. This reflects the deep inequality attached to surnames and the desperate need for social acceptance. Yet dignity cannot be inherited or fabricated. True respect comes only from character, ethical conduct, and meaningful contribution to society.
We are already late, and the need for change is urgent. The people of Kashmir must collectively reject these outdated, un-Islamic, and deeply harmful divisions. We must internalise the truth that all humans are equal before God and therefore deserve equal dignity, respect, and justice. It is our shared responsibility to dismantle the visible and invisible structures of inequality that persist in our society.
We must work toward a future where every individual—regardless of caste, surname, or background—has the freedom to grow, to contribute, and to live with self-respect. Let us replace ignorance with understanding, prejudice with tolerance, and division with unity. Only then can justice become a lived reality rather than a distant slogan—and equality something practiced daily, not merely preached.
