April 28, 2025
NEW DELHI – In the heart of the Himalayas lies a land of extraordinary beauty—and extraordinary fragility. Kashmir, long known for its snow-capped mountains, pristine lakes, and centuries-old cultural heritage, is today walking a tightrope between economic revival and political volatility. At the centre of this delicate balance is tourism, a sector that is not just vital—it is existential.
Recent events, including the cowardly terrorist attack on tourists in Pahalgam, have once again cast a long shadow over the region’s aspirations for peace and integration. These attacks aren’t random—they are calculated acts aimed at instilling fear, discouraging visitors, and ultimately crippling the economic arteries of Kashmir.
And they may be succeeding—not through terror alone, but through the ripple effect it causes across India.
In the aftermath of the attack, calls for a boycott of Kashmir by Indian tourists and traders have begun to gather steam. Social media outrage, well-meaning as it may be, is translating into cancellations, trade disruptions, and a growing reluctance among Indian citizens to engage with Kashmir’s economy.
But here lies the paradox: Boycotting Kashmir is precisely what the enemies of peace want.
The economic pulse of Kashmir
Tourism accounts for nearly 7–8 per cent of Jammu & Kashmir’s GDP. In the Valley, that number feels even larger. An estimated two lakh people directly depend on tourism—and many more benefit indirectly, from artisans and transporters to farmers and shopkeepers.
In a region where private sector industry is limited, and government employment is saturated, tourism remains the most accessible, equitable form of income generation. A good tourist season means school fees are paid, homes are repaired, and small businesses are thriving. A bad season? It means debt, frustration, and fertile ground for radicalisation.
The real cost of a boycott
When the rest of India pulls back—when traders cancel orders for Kashmiri goods, or when tourists choose other destinations—it’s not militants who suffer. It’s the common Kashmiri: the houseboat owner in Dal Lake, the shawl-maker in Baramulla, the apple farmer in Shopian. People who, ironically, want nothing more than normalcy and peace.
A boycott doesn’t isolate terrorism—it isolates Kashmiris from India’s economic and cultural mainstream. It delivers to separatist ideologues the very division they seek.
The road ahead: Engage, don’t abandon
Security, of course, must be the first priority. The Union and UT governments must act decisively—upgrading intelligence networks, fortifying vulnerable zones, and reassuring citizens that safety is paramount.
But alongside security must come continued engagement. More Indians must visit Kashmir, not fewer. More businesses must invest, not withdraw. More conversations must take place, not go silent.
Let’s be clear, Kashmir’s economic integration is India’s most powerful weapon against extremism. Every tourist that steps off a plane in Srinagar is a vote for peace. Every trade fair, every cultural exchange, every B2B meeting—it all chips away at the narrative of isolation.
To abandon Kashmir economically is to hand victory to violence.
Kashmir needs solidarity—not sympathy. Investment—not isolation. And above all, India must remember that the path to a peaceful, fully integrated Kashmir runs through its bazaars, its hotels, and its shikaras—not through hashtags of outrage.
The terrorists want to burn the bridge. Let’s not be the ones to walk away from it.