• Modi’s government split Ladakh off from IIOJK in 2019.
• Around half of Ladakhis are Muslim, 40% are Buddhist.
• “We have been used like slaves”, says apex body leader.
  

LEH: India’s remote high-altitude desert region of Ladakh has been in turmoil since four people were killed in violent protests demanding greater political autonomy for the Himalayan territory.

Growing resentment with New Delhi’s direct rule over the territory, and fears of losing livelihoods, boiled over on Wednesday as crowds took to the streets in the main city, Leh, torching a police vehicle and the offices of Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s Hindu-nationalist Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP).

Initially, police said five people had died, but later revised the toll to four.

The sparsely populated region, home to some 300,000 people, borders both China and Pakistan and is a strategic enclave for India. Around half of Ladakh’s residents are Muslim, and about 40% are Buddhist.

AFP looks at some of the issues.

Why are people protesting?

Modi’s government split Ladakh off from Indian Illegally Occupied Jammu and Kashmir (IIOJK) in 2019, imposing direct rule on both after cancelling the region’s partial autonomy.

Since then, resentment has been growing in Ladakh over Delhi’s rule, with concerns about losing traditional livelihoods, land rights, and cultural identity.

Residents say the end of semi-autonomy stripped them of protections over land, jobs, and resources.

Decisions on development are made in Delhi and implemented by officials sent from outside, leaving the local elected council sidelined.

“All the protections we had within IIOJK were all gone,” lawyer Mustafa Haji told AFP.

Who is leading the demonstrations?

The Apex Body Leh, led by veteran leader Chering Dorjay, has become the main voice of the protesters.

“We have been used like slaves,” Dorjay, 77, said, vowing to continue the struggle in the days to come.

Wednesday’s demonstrations were also organised in solidarity with prominent activist Sonam Wangchuk, who had been on hunger strike for two weeks.

New Delhi blamed the unrest on “provocative speeches” by Wangchuk who was detained by police on Friday.

What are the core demands?

The protesters are demanding protection of land rights and to stop outsiders from buying property in Ladakh.

They also want constitutional autonomy under the “Sixth Schedule” of India’s constitution, which would allow a local legislature to make laws on land use and jobs.

Constitutional protections sought by Ladakhis may seem far off, but sustained negotiations with New Delhi have yielded some “small victories”, Dorjay said.

The government has already reserved 85% of jobs for locals and frozen the acquisition of domicile status for Indians from outside Ladakh until 2036.

But Dorjay says, “there is a long way to go.”

Why is land a sensitive issue?

The government has announced large-scale solar projects and industrial plans in Ladakh that require thousands of acres of land.

Locals fear this will endanger grazing grounds critical for pashmina goat herding, already under pressure from climate change and military buffer zones established with China.

“The danger to this centuries-old livelihood undermining lives of thousands of pashmina goat herders is another issue now,” Dorjay said.

Tensions soared after deadly clashes with Chinese forces in 2020, and new buffer zones have further reduced land available to herders.

“A situation where you don’t have any protection for your land and identity is not a happy one,” lawyer Haji said.

NEW JERSEY:  Dr Maryam Shoukat, a 27-year-old Pakistani doctor pursuing her residency in the United States, passed away today just 30 minutes before her scheduled liver transplant. 

She had been admitted in critical condition with acute liver failure. Dr Maryam had travelled to US with the dream of serving humanity, but her life was cut short before she could realise that goal.

Earlier this month, Maryam was admitted to Rutgers University Hospital in Newark, New Jersey, after her liver suddenly failed. Her condition rapidly deteriorated, and doctors made it clear that an urgent liver transplant was the only way to save her life. 

In this critical situation, her husband, Dr Hamza Zafar, reached out to APPNA (Association of Physicians of Pakistani descent of North America) for help.

APPNA immediately launched an emergency fundraising campaign, raising $273,000 within just one day, and said the total had now reached close to $400,000.

This extraordinary response led the hospital to reduce the total transplant cost from $900,000 to $450,000. APPNA quickly paid $100,000 to the hospital, allowing Dr Maryam’s name to be officially placed on the transplant list. A matching donor liver was also found soon after.

According to APPNA’s General Secretary, Dr Muhammad Sanaullah and Dr A. Fazal Akbar, the organisation’s President, Dr Humera Qamar, along with Dr Zeeshan, Dr Babar Rao, Dr Fateh Shehzad, and Dr Siddique Khurram, played vital roles in this life-saving effort. 

They shared that all members came together with the hope of saving a life that, once recovered, would go on to save many more through her service as a doctor.

Tragically, just as Dr Maryam was about to be taken to the operating room for the transplant today, her condition suddenly worsened, and she passed away only thirty minutes before the procedure.

APPNA leaders expressed deep sorrow, saying that Dr Maryam Shoukat’s journey was a story of sacrifice, courage, and hope. She came to heal others, but in her final days, she needed healing herself.

SRINAGAR: In a modest workshop filled with the fragrance of seasoned wood, 78-year-old Ghulam Mohammad Zaz continues a craft his family has preserved for eight generations — the making of the Kashmiri santoor.

Surrounded by tools that have outlived artisans, he works slowly, each strike and polish echoing centuries of tradition, crafting the musical instrument.

“Seven generations have worked and I am the eighth; I have no guarantee anyone after me will do this work,” Zaz said softly, speaking in Kashmiri.

Once, several of his family members shared this craft in the heart of Indian illegally Occupied Jammu and Kashmir’s (IIOJK) main city, Srinagar, in the Indian occupied part of the Himalayan territory.

Today, he is the last in the city to make the instruments by hand.

“If I tell anyone to make something, they won’t know what to do or how to make it,” said Zaz, who produces around eight to 10 instruments every year, selling for around INR50,000 ($565) each.

“It is not as simple as just picking some wood — one needs to find the right kind of wood.”

The santoor, a hundred-stringed zither-like instrument played with hammers, has long been central to Kashmir’s musical identity, giving the Muslim-majority region its cultural distinctiveness.

Mystical music

Historically, the santoor formed the backbone of “sufiana musiqi”, Kashmir’s mystical music tradition, with its hypnotic and reverberating sound bringing tranquillity.

“Musicians used to come from Iran to Kashmir, they used to play santoor and other instruments,” said Muzaffar Bhat, a music professor at a government college in Anantnag.

“They used to sing in Persian… we adapted the santoor from them and assimilated it into our music.”

The instrument received a new life in the 20th century.

In the 1950s, celebrated Indian musician Shivkumar Sharma — born in IIOJK in 1938 — used the santoor to play classical music.

“Due to that, this became popularised in the classical circles throughout India,” Bhat said.

Suddenly, the santoor was no longer confined to Kashmiri sufiana gatherings — it had become a celebrated voice in Indian classical music.

Yet tradition faced challenges as Western instruments and global music trends began to overshadow local sounds.

“A lot of our traditional Kashmiri instruments became sidelined,” said Bhat.

For craftsmen like Zaz, this meant fewer patrons, fewer students, and the slow decline of a centuries-old family profession.

Zaz sells his instruments in Kashmir, but also receives orders from Europe and the Middle East.

But there is hope. A revival, however modest, is taking root.

“Since the last few years, a new trend has started,” Bhat said. “Our youngsters have started to learn our traditional instruments”.