WR Desk: The foundation of Kashmir’s Black Day lies in the betrayal of international commitments. United Nations Security Council resolutions explicitly recognized the Kashmiri right to self-determination, promising a plebiscite to determine their political future. India initially accepted these resolutions but has since rendered them dead letters through perpetual delay and denial. For Kashmiris, Republic Day thus becomes a bitter anniversary: while India celebrates its sovereignty, it simultaneously denies Kashmiris the very exercise of sovereign choice that the international community guaranteed them. This fundamental breach of trust transforms India’s constitutional celebrations into a theater of hypocrisy.

This denial of political rights has been enforced through brute military might and a legal architecture designed for oppression. With nearly a million troops stationed in the region, IOJK remains one of the world’s most militarized zones. This occupation is not merely about numbers; it is about impunity. Draconian laws like the Armed Forces Special Powers Act (AFSPA) and the Public Safety Act (PSA) provide blanket immunity to security forces, shielding them from prosecution even for egregious human rights violations. Soldiers operate with the knowledge that they can detain, torture, or kill without consequence. For Kashmiris, the Indian Constitution’s guarantee of life and liberty is meaningless when its armed forces enjoy license to violate these rights with impunity.
The human cost of this impunity is measured in shattered lives and blinded futures. The use of pellet shotguns against civilian protesters—weaponry designed for hunting animals, not controlling crowds—has left thousands maimed, with hundreds of young men, women, and children permanently blinded. These “dead eyes” have become a haunting symbol of Indian democracy’s hollow claims. While India’s Republic Day parade showcases military precision and national pride, Kashmiri families mourn children who will never see again, their vision sacrificed to maintain occupation. This is not governance; it is collective punishment. Black Day serves as a moral appeal to the conscience of ordinary Indians and the international community. It asks: what kind of republic requires blinded children, silenced journalists, and caged politicians to sustain itself? What kind of democracy needs a million soldiers to enforce its “integration”? The observance is a testament to Kashmiri resilience and a declaration that despite all attempts to break their spirit, they continue to resist non-violently, demanding nothing more than what was promised to them: the right to determine their own future.
Until India honors its international commitments, withdraws its military boot from Kashmiri necks, and allows genuine political freedom, Republic Day in IOJK will remain Black Day—a symbol of unfulfilled promises, broken treaties, and a republic built not on consent, but on conquest. The black flags flying in Kashmir on 26th January are not flags of surrender; they are flags of resistance, reminding the world that true democracy cannot exist without self-determination, and that no republic is legitimate when it is maintained through occupation.