Dear Omar Sahib,
I write this letter with sincerity and with the hope of initiating an honest and respectful dialogue on a subject that continues to shape the political and social discourse of Jammu and Kashmir. History is often remembered through different lenses, and every society has the right to examine its past critically and honestly. However, history should never be viewed selectively, nor should inconvenient chapters be ignored simply because they challenge a long-held narrative.
Allow me to simplify the discussion. Islamic teachings recognize martyrdom under well-defined circumstances. The highest category of martyr is one who sacrifices his life while legitimately defending Islam or while protecting his life, family, community, or property in a just struggle for the sake of Allah. In addition, authentic traditions of Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) also mention that certain people who die under exceptional circumstances are granted the reward of martyrdom. These include those who die from plague or epidemic disease, drowning, severe abdominal illness, being crushed beneath a collapsed structure, women who die during childbirth, and those who are killed while defending their life, property, family, or faith.
They died during the disturbances outside the Central Jail in Srinagar, where the trial of Abdul Qadeer was in progress. Historical records indicate that a large crowd had gathered outside the jail, and that an attempt was made to force entry into the premises before the authorities resorted to firing. Regardless of one’s political interpretation of the events of that day, on what theological basis does Islam classify every person killed in that incident as a martyr?
There is another equally important aspect of July 13 that is seldom acknowledged in official narratives. Why is the same day remembered by many members of the Kashmiri Pandit community as “Bata Loot” ? Numerous historical accounts record that the firing was followed by widespread communal violence directed against the minority Kashmiri Pandit community. Homes, shops, and businesses were attacked, vandalised and looted. There are also accounts of temples being desecrated, places of worship being attacked, and the sacred thread (Yoni/Janeu), which holds deep religious significance for Kashmiri Pandits, being publicly removed and burnt. Several historians and community accounts further state that nearly 1,300 kilograms of sacred thread were collected and burnt during the violence , an event remembered as a profound act of humiliation and religious desecration.
If these events also form part of the historical record of July 13, then why should the day be remembered exclusively as “Martyrs’ Day”? Why should it not equally be remembered as the day on which Kashmir’s centuries-old social harmony received one of its deepest wounds? Why should we overlook the suffering of an entire minority community and commemorate only one part of the tragedy?
Is it not reasonable to ask whether the communal polarization that surfaced in 1931 laid the foundations for the politics that followed? Can one completely separate the events of 1931 from the subsequent communal mobilization, the formation of the Muslim Conference in 1932, its later political evolution, the emergence of the Muslim United Front decades later, and ultimately the separatist movement and terrorism that devastated Kashmir? Whether one agrees or disagrees with this interpretation, these are legitimate historical questions that deserve honest debate rather than selective remembrance.
Finally, is it not also a matter of historical record that, within about fifteen months of the July 1931 disturbances, your grandfather founded the Muslim Conference? Is it therefore unfair to ask whether the political environment created in the aftermath of those events was utilized to build a movement that would fundamentally alter the political course of Jammu and Kashmir & create an exclusive society rather than inclusive one.
History deserves to be remembered in its entirety—not selectively. If we choose to honour one set of victims, we must also acknowledge those who suffered because of the violence that followed. A mature society does not build its future by remembering only one narrative while silencing another. True reconciliation begins when we have the courage to confront every chapter of our shared history, howsoever uncomfortable it may be.
Omar Sahib ,
My purpose in writing this letter is neither to diminish the loss of human life nor to deny anyone the right to mourn their dead. Every innocent life lost is a tragedy and deserves dignity and remembrance. However, history cannot be commemorated selectively. If July 13 is to be remembered, it must be remembered in its entirety—not merely for the 22 lives that were lost, but also for the violence, fear, and communal divisions that followed.
As the elected Chief Minister of Jammu and Kashmir, you occupy a position that carries not only political authority but also a moral responsibility. You have the opportunity to encourage an honest and inclusive understanding of our shared history rather than one that celebrates one narrative while ignoring another.
Therefore, I respectfully ask you to answer the questions raised in this letter—not with political rhetoric, but with historical evidence and, where you have invoked faith, with the principles of Islam itself. If the answers support your position, the people of Jammu and Kashmir deserve to know them. If they do not, then perhaps it is time for all of us to reconsider how we remember July 13.
A society that has the courage to confront its past honestly is far stronger than one that preserves selective memories. Let us honour every victim, acknowledge every injustice, and build a future founded not on competing narratives of grievance but on truth, fairness, and reconciliation.
I look forward to your considered response.
Yours sincerely,
Veer Saraf ( An Exile ) P.S. “History does not become truthful because it is repeated; it becomes truthful only when every chapter is remembered.”
