Summertime in Kashmir

WHEN newspaper-reading outsiders think of Kashmir these days, they understandably conjure images of stone-throwing youths, repressive soldiers, curfews and conflict. Yet in the lulls between confrontations, when Kashmir’s separatists pause from exhaustion and the number of militants creeping over from across the border is at low tide, another Kashmir flourishes.

It is tourist season now in Srinagar, the summer capital of the state of Jammu and Kashmir. Not only is it much cooler here in the hills than down on the plains, it is also time for Hindu pilgrims, or yatris, to trudge up (or, more often, drive up) from humid and low-lying Jammu to visit the sacred site of a big ice stalagmite within a cave, the Amarnath temple. The way from Jammu to Srinagar, a picturesque and vertigo-inducing road that clings to cliff edges, somehow accommodates hurtling buses, lorries, army convoys and long lines of taxis and cars. There is little more to keep them from spinning off the ledge than cheery warning signs stuck up by the Indian army, suggesting “this is a highway, not a runway, don’t take off” and reminding those tempted to drink and drive that “life is risky after whisky”. It was crammed to bursting on July 17th, with the yatris pausing at roadside stalls run by fellow believers dishing out free food and water.

Srinagar itself is breathing a sigh of relief that this tourist season, so far, has not been disrupted by the sort of violence that erupted each of the past three years. Indian police and soldiers are apparently better-trained, less heavy-handed, and so less likely to abuse locals in such a manner as to restart months of protest. In turn the locals, seeing what little they achieved during the previous summers’ protests, beyond the loss of life and income, are focused for now on making a living.

The many wooden houseboats on Dal lake, at the heart of the town, are crammed with holidaymakers. More surprising, and less welcome, is the presence of jet-skis roaring noisily in circles around the lake, while other tourists queue to take their turns. As surprising, staring over the lake from a rocky outcropping, is a newly opened five-star hotel, with no vacancies. Indian-brand coffee shops are sprouting in bunches.

It is a reminder that Kashmir, for all its political misery, is not a poor place by Indian standards. Though there is high unemployment among Kashmiris, many of whom are quite well-educated, the state also draws in labourers from the rest of India to do menial toil. Early in the morning the road south from Srinagar, towards an area where saffron is grown, is lined with young men from Bihar who are eager to work fields or on construction sites for a daily wage of about 200 rupees (about $4). Kashmir is in the midst, too, of a building boom, with young men needed to port bricks and sacks of concrete.

Kashmiris remain roughly as well-off as the average Indian, keeping up with the rapidly growing national economy. And compared with Pakistan next door, where economic misery is matched only by the political kind, Kashmir looks increasingly well off. Locals point out that despite the conflict (indeed, at times, because of it) these mountain valleys draw in money: in the good times tourism blossoms—even in the winter, when the more adventurous head to Gulmarg ski resort—and in the bad times horticulture and the handicraft industry keep plugging along. In addition the Indian state spends heavily in Kashmir, with various development programmes. And the presence of several hundred thousand soldiers in the state, for all the repressive ills it brings the Kashmiris, also adds significant demand for goods and services to the local economy.

Few foreigners are evident in Kashmir at the moment, but with throngs of Indians hurtling about on jet-skis, packing out new hotels and cramming the roads, an unmistakable hum of orderly leisure fills the air. Foreign tourists, in time, may drift back too. How long will this situation last? It could persist happily for years, or, as likely, it could end tomorrow.

(Picture credit: Wikimedia Commons)