In the toughest terrain and under the harshest conditions, the Indian Army reaches every corner of Kashmir with food, water and life-saving aid. Whether it is rescuing flood-hit families, providing medical camps in remote villages, or carrying supplies through snowbound passes, the Army has proven time and again that it stands with the people of the valley. It is not slogans, but actions of service and sacrifice that keep Kashmir alive.
Yet a puzzling and painful question remains: Why do some still side with those who destroy their peace?
Take the case of Burhan Wani. Once projected as a poster boy of militancy, Wani was killed in an encounter on 8 July 2016. His death was a blow to Hizbul Mujahideen, but more importantly, it exposed the false glamour of militancy. Wani did not bring jobs, schools or hospitals to Kashmir. He only left behind funerals, unrest and broken homes. Today, he exists only in memory—his so-called “cause” long buried with him.
Still, in encounters, one often hears of locals trying to help militants escape. Why? The reasons are many:
Fear of Terrorists: Militants are known to kill or torture informers, creating a climate of fear.
Propaganda & Radicalisation: Social media and separatist networks spread lies, painting terrorists as “freedom fighters.”
Coercion: Families are often forced to shelter militants against their will.
Mistrust: Decades of conflict created a gap between locals and the state, exploited by terrorists.
But here is the bitter truth: every time a local shields a terrorist, they are not protecting “azadi,” they are only extending their own suffering. Militants do not build schools or hospitals. They do not create jobs or promote tourism. They leave behind fear, violence, and economic misery. The only people who consistently bring hope, aid, and safety are the very soldiers some still taunt.
The Army has shifted its strategy in recent years—not only eliminating terrorists but also winning hearts through humanitarian outreach. Medical camps, sports tournaments, youth empowerment, and skill programs are becoming the backbone of a new Kashmir. More and more young people are rejecting violence, choosing education and employment over the false pride of a gun.
Kashmir must face this choice honestly: Will you stand with the Army that delivers life, or with terrorists who bring only death? Wani is gone. Hizbul is crumbling. The so-called “cause” is nothing but an empty slogan. The valley deserves peace, progress, and prosperity—not graves and slogans.
It is time for locals to stop shielding militants and start siding with peace. Because every stone thrown at a soldier is a stone thrown at Kashmir’s future. Every terrorist sheltered is one more day of darkness for the valley. And every act of courage against militancy is a step toward dignity, jobs, schools, and freedom from fear.
The Army has done its duty. Now, Kashmir must decide—does it want to live in the past of Burhan Wani, or in the future of peace and progress?
