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7 March 2025On August 5, 2019, the Indian government unilaterally revoked Article 370 of its Constitution[1], stripping Jammu and Kashmir of its special status and autonomy. Harsh curfew, widespread communication blackouts, the mass detention of political leaders, and reports of enforced disappearances and violent crackdowns followed this drastic move. The Indian occupation of Kashmir, rooted in a tumultuous history dating back to 1947, has been marked by decades of systemic violence, repression, and human rights abuses. Among the most heinous tactics employed is the weaponisation of gender-based violence– a deliberate tool used to break resistance, dehumanise communities, and suppress Kashmiris identity. The mass rape at Kunan Poshpora, on 23rd February 1991, serves as a chilling reminder of how sexual violence is systematically wielded as a tool of state repression, entrenching cycles of trauma and silencing dissent. Victims recall how occupying forces entered their homes, declaring that the violence was not merely rape but a “war” on their bodies. This article examines the use of rape as a weapon of war in Kashmir, exploring its devastating impact on dignity, identity, and human rights while highlighting the international legal implications of such violations.
Abrogation of Article 370 Indian Constitution: The Militarisation of Kashmir
The revocation of Article 370 marked a significant escalation in the militarisation of Kashmir. By stripping the region of its autonomy, the Indian state deepened its control, intensifying an already fraught socio-political environment. The move disproportionately left Kashmiri women vulnerable to exploitation and violence. This disregard for their dignity and bodily autonomy was further reflected in the misogynistic rhetoric following the revocation, such as Haryana Chief Minister Lal Khattar’s disturbing statement about the path being clear to ‘bring brides from Kashmir.’ Khattar’s remarks exemplified the objectification of Kashmiri women, illustrating the deep contempt for their humanity and rights following the revocation of Article 370 and Article 35A affecting the right to property and inheritance for Kashmiri women. Such rhetoric is not isolated, but part of a larger strategy aimed at undermining Kashmiri identity. In the militarized occupation of Kashmir, women’s bodies are transformed into battlegrounds, where the violence inflicted serves not only to harm individuals but to dismantle the very societal fabric and cultural identity of the region.
Weaponised Sexual Violence and Cultural Erasure
Sexual violence has been systematically used as a method of control in conflict zones, and Kashmir is no exception[2]. The recent mass rapes in Goma, Democratic Republic of the Congo serve as a reminder of this. Survivor testimonies from atrocities like the Kunan Poshpora mass rape in Kashmir similarly reveal the premeditated nature of such violence, with Indian occupying forces entering homes with the express intent to terrorise and humiliate.[3] Seema Kazi has documented how sexual violence in Kashmir is used as a tool to instill fear, punish dissent, and fracture community resilience.[4]
Sexual violence as a weapon of war goes beyond physical violence; it aims to strip communities of their dignity and identity. For Kashmiri women, this violence marginalizes them further within an already patriarchal society struggling under the weight of occupation and conflict. The trauma is not merely personal but collective, as it serves as a constant reminder of the militarized control over Kashmiri bodies. The continued use of sexual violence by occupying forces in Kashmir also represents a breach of the responsibility of the Indian government to uphold human dignity as enshrined in international human rights law. It stands in direct violation of Article 1 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (UDHR), which upholds human dignity as a fundamental principle, and breaches Article 3 UDHR, which safeguards the right to life, liberty, and personal security. The state’s failure to prevent such violence and its protection of perpetrators through laws like the Armed Forces Special Powers Act (AFSPA) highlights a blatant disregard for both international legal obligations and basic human dignity.[5]
The Plight of Half-Widows: Invisible Victims of State Violence
One of the most profound consequences of the Indian occupation of Kashmir is the phenomenon of “half-widows” – women whose husbands have disappeared due to enforced disappearances by security forces.[6] These women are left in a state of limbo, without legal recognition as widows, yet burdened with the emotional and social trauma of having lost their loved ones. They are often forced to search for their husbands in prisons, army camps, and police stations, only to be met with hostility, denial, and further violence.
The experiences of half-widows underscore the intersection of gender-based violence and the erasure of Kashmiri identity. These women not only face the psychological torment of uncertainty about the fate of their husbands but are also subjected to systemic violations of their rights. The absence of a legal remedy, compounded by the impunity granted to security forces under laws like the Armed Forces Special Powers Act (AFSPA), ensures that Kashmiri women are left without justice.[7] Many are also subjected to sexual violence while searching for their missing loved ones. Inamul Haq highlights the story of half-widows in Kashmir, Rubina claimed “My body is not the site of violation. I am violated to the extent of my husband’s disappearance,”[8]. The violence extends in forms that are immediate and tangible to ones that are not in the resistance for Kashmiri women.
The rhetoric surrounding Kashmiri women since the abrogation of Article 370 has exposed a disturbing and multifaceted objectification of their bodies. Bharatiya Janata Party member Vikram Saini remarked, “We can get the bachelors among our party workers married there now, there is no problem,” referring to the “white-skinned women of Kashmir,” reducing them to little more than prizes to be claimed. This sentiment was echoed in the alarming rise in Google searches for “How to marry a Kashmiri woman” following the abrogation, reinforcing the perception of Kashmiri women as commodities rather than individuals with agency. The surge in online searches reflects a possessive gaze that views their bodies as objects of desire and subjugation. This rhetoric is not just dehumanizing but actively contributes to a culture where Kashmiri women are stripped of their autonomy, reducing them to symbols of political conquests.
Not only are Kashmiri women fetishised, but their bodies are also weaponised as symbols of power, control, and conquest. Supreme Court lawyer Mihira Sood has stressed that Kashmiri women are not spoils of war, yet they continue to be framed as such.
The UDHR emphasizes “the inalienability of human dignity and the worth of the human person.” Yet, Kashmiri women continue to be treated as mere instruments to fulfil external agendas, their dignity routinely stripped away. This dehumanisation is legitimised through a culture of impunity where violence against Kashmiri women remains unaddressed. The denial of justice in the 1991 Kunan Poshpora mass rape case exemplifies this. The failure to acknowledge and address these systemic injustices only deepens the vulnerability of Kashmiri women, further entrenching their objectification within society.
Conclusion
The weaponisation of gender-based violence in Kashmir is a brutal manifestation of the Indian occupation’s intent to suppress Kashmiri identity. It is an attack on dignity and autonomy. Their resistance is not just about survival—it is about reclaiming agency. As international bodies continue to document these abuses, Kashmiri women’s resilience and agency stand as a powerful act of defiance against an occupation that seeks to silence them. The question remains: will their resilience be lost in the silence?
Zainab Zafar is a freelance journalist in Pakistan currently studying at the University of Exeter Law School for a post-graduate degree.
The photograph represents Srinagar lake in Kashmir and is by Sidharth Singh available on Unsplash.
[1] Government of India, ‘Constitution of India | Legislative Department | India’ (Legislative Department) <https://legislative.gov.in/constitution-of-india/>.
[2] Payel Pal and Goutam Karmakar, ‘“Where Else Can They Go?”: Violence, Resistance and the Socio‐Cultural Trajectories of Kashmiri Women in Freny Manecksha’s Behold I Shine: Narratives of Kashmir’s Women and Children’ (2024) 7 Sexuality Gender & Policy 325.
[3] Ibid [3].
[4] Seema Kazi, ‘Rape, Impunity and Justice in Kashmir’ (2014) 10 Socio-Legal Review 14.
[5] Saqib Wani, ‘The Armed Forces Special Powers Act (AFSPA): Legal Impunity to Kill’ (2022) 10 The Public Sphere: Journal of Public Policy <https://psj.lse.ac.uk/articles/120> accessed 17 February 2025.
[6] Kislay Kumar Singh, ‘Half-Widows: Invisible Victims of the Enforced Disappearances and Their Status in Kashmir’ (2019) 4 Indian Journal of Women and Social Change <https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/full/10.1177/2455632719880851>.
[7]Ibid [7].
[8] Inamul Haq, ‘The Half-Widows of Kashmir’ (2021) 31 Torture Journal 92.