Farooq's tryst with Kashmir's destiny

The biography of former Kashmir chief minister offers a fascinating account of a personality that is simultaneously dazzling and complex

Farooq of Kashmir

Authors: Ashwini Bhatnagar & RC Ganjoo

Publisher: Fingerprint Publishing

Pages: 330

Price: Rs 699

This may sound banal, but nothing in Kashmir is ever as it appears to be. In the shifting sands of politics in the state, there are so many actors and so many agendas that “kahin pe nigahen kahin pe nishana” (a constantly shifting target) doesn’t even begin to describe the complexity.

The authors, who are seasoned students of politics and society in Kashmir, have tried to weave together all the strands in Kashmir politics through a biography of Farooq Abdullah, the flamboyant former chief minister and National Conference president. Based on extensive research and interviews — including with Mr Abdullah himself — the book, according to the writers, is a “dispassionate but engaging chronicle of his persona and his politics over the last 45 years or so”. However, strictly speaking, the book is not about Farooq alone but the Abdullah family — his father, Sheikh Abdullah and son Omar.

Sheikh Saab, also known as the Lion of Kashmir (though it is not clear when a lion was last sighted in the state), evoked instant recall among Kashmiris, though 21 years of his life were spent in prison between the 1920s, when he started his career in politics, and 1982, when he died. Sheikh Abdullah was autocratic, whimsical, and in his own way, feudal. In 1980, he bowed to “popular demand” from his party and “gifted” his son Farooq the party’s nomination for the Srinagar Lok Sabha seat. Out of respect for Sheikh Saab, Farooq, who had migrated to the UK after his MBBS to pursue a career as a doctor, returned home and inevitably won unopposed. Questions swirled about his citizenship but all that came to nought eventually.

The book chronicles the reluctance of both Sheikh Saab and Farooq to hand over the mantle to their sons. Initially, both believed their sons would rather be somewhere else doing something else: In Farooq’s case, playing golf (and playing the field); in Omar’s case, skiing and being sociable. As Sheikh Saab lay on his deathbed, he asked for the third time, his son-in-law G M Shah to take over the reins of the party, something that Shah refused to do. Shah would later split the National Conference and become chief minister, only to have Delhi’s protection withdrawn after which the government fell without a whimper. India paid the price for Delhi’s meddling but so did B K Nehru, the Governor, who had advised against the move and was moved to Gujarat from Kashmir.

The book is about Farooq, so it does not delve too much into the political pulls and pressures mounted by the extra-party opposition in Kashmir — the internal politics of the Hurriyat and the Muslim United Front (MUF), groups such as the Jamaat-e-Islami, Jammu and Kashmir Liberation Front (JKLF), Hizb ul Mujahideen, and others. It does record the horrific events of 1990 when Delhi made mistake after mistake in Kashmir, leading to the wholesale exodus of the Kashmiri Pandits from the valley, which was all but taken over by militants. A half-burnt diary of an unidentified Kashmiri pandit recording his final hours as militants set fire to his house, makes for heartbreaking reading and highlights the smugness and vacuity of government, both in Delhi and Srinagar.

The book does touch upon Pakistan’s role in the politics of Kashmir. But it is to be hoped that with their vast storehouse of information the authors will write another book on the changes in Pakistani policy towards Kashmir. It draws upon the 1965 conversation between Chinese Premier Zhou Enlai and Pakistan then Foreign Minister Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, for instance, to illustrate the Great Game in Kashmir in which Sheikh Abdullah was just a pawn. Yet, when Gen Pervez Musharraf came to India for the Agra summit and had a meeting with the Hurriyat, he told them briskly to stop relying on Pakistan for funding. It also records the honeymoon — such as it was — between the Bharatiya Janata Party and the National Conference during the Vajpayee years and the carrot and stick that the government employed despite Vajpayee’s “Insaaniyat, Jumhooriyat, Kashmiriyat” speech in the Lok Sabha.

And this is the sad part: That in Kashmir, no politician, including idealistic ones such as Omar, really properly explored and built up the Kashmiriyat narrative and opted for the simpler but dangerous stratagem of basically playing both ends against the middle. Eventually, the rest of the country wearied of this.

The book ends in 2019 with the “house arrest” of most political figures in the state, including Farooq and Omar, the reading down of Article 370, the Gupkar Declaration and the reaction of Omar, for whom house arrest was despairing self-realisation; and Farooq who reacted to it and his “release” with customary emotion. The book touches delicately on the relationship between the father and son.

Where the book displays the reporter’s touch is recording the foibles of politicians we would never otherwise have known about. It says as a child Farooq was terrified of horror films, especially Dracula. GM Shah was “devoted to drinking endless cups of strong coffee throughout the day. He was also obsessed with his grave”. Apparently not content with choosing the spot, he would visit it every Friday, often climbing right into it and giving instructions for more head room or elbow space. He wanted to be comfortable when the time came. The book also has an extensive account of the stormy relationship between yoga instructor Dhirendra Brahmachari and Farooq Abdullah.

This is a fascinating account of a personality that is at once dazzling and complex. But for small mistakes — Member of Parliament Era Sezhian goes as Era Sodziam and bugbear goes as “bear bug” — the book is a must-read for everyone who wants to understand India and Kashmir.