They have lost sons, husbands, and homes—but not their voices. In Kashmir, women are the keepers of resistance.

Kashmir is not just a land of picturesque meadows, towering mountains, and cool, refreshing springs—it is also a cradle of rich culture and interfaith harmony. It is the homeland of resilient and courageous people, where the natural beauty is complemented by its women's strength, passion, and eloquence. Whether it was Lal Ded, sharing her mystical wisdom, or Habba Khatoon, singing ballads of love and loss, Kashmiri women have always found a way to express their emotions and experiences. This legacy has been their strength in over seven decades of occupation and oppression. It is this very heritage that has empowered Kashmiri women to endure hardships, resist tyranny, and stand unwavering in every phase of the struggle for freedom.
The struggle for Kashmir's freedom is not a battle fought by men alone. Kashmiri women have refused to remain silent spectators; they have raised their voices, led protests, and sacrificed their lives alongside men. Their resistance is symbolic and deeply embedded in the movement itself, shaping its course through defiance, resilience, and an unyielding demand for justice.
From the early days of the resistance, women-led organizations such as Dukhtaran-e-Millat and Muslim Khawateen Markaz have mobilized women for political activism. They have organized protests, led marches, and stood fearlessly before heavily armed soldiers, demanding justice and accountability. Despite brutal crackdowns, arbitrary arrests, and enforced disappearances, Kashmiri women have not backed down. They continue to fill the streets with their chants of resistance, carrying placards, raising slogans, and confronting an occupation that seeks to erase their voices.
Yet, beyond the streets, their role in the resistance is even more profound and often goes unnoticed. They provide sanctuary to political activists on the run, care for the wounded in makeshift clinics, and act as secret messengers, carrying vital information through militarized zones where every movement is monitored. Many risk their lives to smuggle food, medical supplies, and letters to political prisoners, ensuring the movement never loses momentum.
When men are imprisoned or martyred, it is the women who hold families together. Thousands of Kashmiri women have been widowed or left in agonizing limbo as “half-widows”—women whose husbands have disappeared in custody, leaving them in an endless cycle of waiting and uncertainty. Without death certificates, they are denied pensions, bank accounts, and property rights. A death certificate can only be acquired if the family proves that the victim was never involved in militant activities. Many 'half-widows' face homelessness as in-laws or family members withhold property rights, citing religious grounds that a wife cannot claim her husband’s assets until he is declared dead.

Whether it was Lal Ded, sharing her mystical wisdom, or Habba Khatoon, singing ballads of love and loss, Kashmiri women have always found a way to express their emotions and experiences. This legacy has been their strength in over seven decades of occupation and oppression.

Traditional Kashmiri society often does not allow these women to work or remarry. Many scholars have noted that influential figures exploit them under the pretense of providing information about their missing husbands, while others take advantage of them in the name of religion. Yet, their plight remains unheard. Instead of succumbing to despair, these women have turned their pain into strength. They have become activists, petitioners, and relentless seekers of justice in a system designed to silence them.
Since August 5, 2019, the Indian government has introduced nearly 800 new laws and enforced draconian curbs on traditional and social media, effectively silencing reports of these brutalities from reaching the outside world. In recent years, the situation has further deteriorated, particularly after the revocation of Article 370. Reports indicate that more than 870 lives have been lost, including 20 women. Many women have been widowed, and countless children orphaned. Over 20,000 individuals have been arrested and sent to distant, infamous prisons like Tihar Jail—850 miles from their homeland—forcing families to undertake grueling 17-to-20 hour journeys just for a brief visit.

From the early days of the resistance, women-led organizations such as Dukhtaran-e-Millat and Muslim Khawateen Markaz have mobilized women for political activism. They have organized protests, led marches, and stood fearlessly before heavily armed soldiers, demanding justice and accountability.

A close friend, Arjumand, has endured this agony firsthand. Her husband has spent most of the past 26 years in Tihar Jail. Despite multiple rulings from India's Supreme Court ordering his release, each time, he is falsely implicated in a new case, keeping him imprisoned without trial. Yet, Arjumand continues her relentless journey to Delhi, spending hours travelling to see him—clinging to hope in the face of unrelenting injustice.
For decades, and particularly since the 1989 uprising, the repression in Indian Illegally Occupied Jammu and Kashmir has disproportionately affected women and children. The scale of brutality goes beyond human rights violations; it constitutes crimes against humanity. The Kunan-Poshpora mass rape of 1991 remains one of the most horrifying examples of this cruelty, where Indian soldiers gang-raped dozens of women in a single night. Yet, despite the trauma, the survivors have refused to be broken. They have continued their fight for justice, defying an indifferent judicial system that seeks to bury their case.

Thousands of Kashmiri women have been widowed or left in agonizing limbo as “half-widows”—women whose husbands have disappeared in custody, leaving them in an endless cycle of waiting and uncertainty. Without death certificates, they are denied pensions, bank accounts, and property rights.

Every year, in memory of this atrocity, Kashmiri women do not just mourn in silence—they commemorate this day as "Kashmiri Women's Resistance Day." It is a day of remembrance, resilience, and a reminder to the world that they will not allow their suffering to be forgotten.
Parveena Ahangar, the founder of the Association of Parents of Disappeared Persons (APDP), is one of the most powerful examples of this resilience. When security forces forcibly took her son, she refused to accept silence. Instead, she turned her grief into a movement, meticulously documenting disappearances, organizing protests, and standing as a voice for thousands of families searching for their loved ones. The APDP continues to demand answers, even as the state attempts to erase their existence.
Another significant initiative is Zanaan Wanaan (ZW), a Srinagar-based feminist collective advocating for women's rights in Kashmir. The name is a combination of the Kashmiri words "zanaan," meaning "women," and "wanaan," meaning "to speak."
Kashmiri women embody resistance in every form. In the prisons of India, they stand as unyielding symbols of defiance—Asiya Andrabi, Naheeda Nasreen, and Fehmida Sofi continue to resist behind bars, their voices echoing beyond the prison walls. On the streets, they wield the power of truth—Masrat Zahra, with a camera in hand, documents atrocities, ensuring that the world does not turn a blind eye to Kashmir’s suffering.
Through the written word, they challenge oppression and reclaim their history. Samreen Mushtaq and Essar Batool, with their groundbreaking work Do You Remember Kunan Poshpora?, force the perpetrators of brutality to confront their crimes. Anjum Zamrooda Habib, in recounting the harrowing nights of her imprisonment, refuses to let the stories of Kashmiri political prisoners be forgotten.
Through their resistance—whether behind bars, behind the lens, or the pen—these women prove that the struggle for justice in Kashmir is not just fought on the streets but in the battle for memory, truth, and narrative. Their defiance is not just in their protests but in their very existence. Every time they march, speak or refuse to forget, they reaffirm that the struggle for freedom is as much theirs as it is anyone else's. The world may try to ignore their voices, but their fight is far from over. It is carried forward in the chants of mothers searching for their sons, the silent endurance of widows waiting for justice, and the unwavering resilience of women who refuse to be broken.

The writer is a Ph.D. scholar in International Relations at NUML, a Muzaffarabad-based political and social analyst, and a human rights campaigner.
X: @NylaKayani
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