Justice delayed & denied: The unfinished story of Kashmiri Pandit properties

By Girdhari Lal Raina, Former MLC (J&K)

This is not merely a story of displacement. It is a story of systematic dispossession—one that did not end in 1990, but quietly evolved and persists to this day.

When Kashmiri Pandits were forced to flee the Valley in the early 1990s under the threat of targeted violence, they left behind more than homes. They left behind land, identity, memory—everything that roots a community to its past and secures its future. What followed their involuntary exodus was not an incidental breakdown of order. It was a collapse of protection—and, in many cases, an open invitation to plunder.

In the immediate aftermath, abandoned homes were stripped with ruthless efficiency. Furniture, electronics, utensils, doors, windows—nothing was spared. What could not be looted was often destroyed, mostly in ‘mysterious’ fires. Thousands of homes were reduced to ashes. Whether driven by opportunism or a deeper intent to erase the possibility of return, the result was the same: a community cut off not only from its homeland, but from the very structures that made return possible.

But the physical destruction, as devastating as it was, proved to be only the first phase.

What followed was slower, less visible, and far more difficult to reverse: the systematic capture of land through encroachment, coercion, and manipulation of records. With families scattered in refugee camps and struggling for survival, many were pushed into distress sales—forced to part with ancestral property at throwaway prices. Others found their land simply occupied, gradually absorbed into the control of those who faced little to no resistance.

Over time, this evolved into a pattern. Encroachments were normalized. Informal occupations became entrenched. And where force or coercion was insufficient, the system itself was bent to serve the same end. Fresh land settlement operations initiated in 1995 to update land records became one of the tools.

The state’s legislative response—the Jammu and Kashmir Migrant Immovable Property (Preservation, Protection and Restraint on Distress Sales) Act, 1997—was intended to act as a safeguard. It placed migrant properties under state protection and restricted unauthorized transfers. On paper, it acknowledged the scale of the problem. In practice on ground, it failed to stop it.

The reasons are as troubling as they are familiar: weak enforcement, administrative apathy, and the absence of accountability. A law without implementation is little more than a declaration of intent—and intent, in this case, did not translate into protection.

More alarmingly, the very processes meant to modernize land governance became tools for dispossession. The land settlement operations initiated in 1995, followed by digitization efforts in the 2000s, were supposed to bring accuracy and transparency to land records. Instead, they opened new avenues for manipulation.

Revenue records—Jamabandi, Girdawari, mutation entries—were altered in numerous cases. Investigations by agencies such as the Crime Branch have revealed instances of fraudulent mutations, often involving collusion between private actors and officials. Ownership was transferred on paper without the knowledge or consent of the rightful owners. Legitimate entries were erased or overwritten. In some cases, records simply went missing or were destroyed.

A particularly insidious tactic emerged: properties were transferred through a chain of fabricated transactions. Fake documents were used to sell land within a closed network, and then resold multiple times. Each successive transfer created a thicker layer of supposed legitimacy. By the time a displaced owner attempted to reclaim their property, they were confronted with a labyrinth of paperwork designed to obscure the original truth.

This was not merely opportunistic wrongdoing. It reflected a deeper institutional failure—one that allowed systems of record and authority to be manipulated with impunity.

To be clear, the judiciary has not been silent. The Jammu and Kashmir High Court has consistently upheld a fundamental principle: migrant properties cannot be transferred without the explicit consent of the owner. It has supported eviction of unauthorized occupants and reinforced the legal protections available to displaced persons.

But judicial intervention, by its very nature, is reactive. It depends on individuals approaching the court, often after years—if not decades—of delay, with incomplete documentation and limited resources. It cannot substitute for a system that proactively safeguards rights.

On the ground, the reality remains stark. Displaced families who attempt to seek redress through official mechanisms, including the Migrant Property Portal, frequently find their claims dismissed on the basis of existing revenue records—records that may themselves be the product of fraud. Encroachments persist. Reports of suspicious fires affecting remaining properties continue to surface, raising serious concerns about both security and intent.

Meanwhile, periodic announcements of land retrieval—measured in thousands of kanals—offer a glimpse of administrative action. But recovery without accountability is insufficient. It addresses symptoms, not causes. It does little to restore confidence among those who have watched their property slip away through a combination of force, fraud, and neglect.

What is required now is not incremental reform, but structural correction.

First, the legal fiction surrounding “voluntary” transactions during displacement must be dismantled. Sales conducted under conditions of fear, coercion, and extreme vulnerability cannot be treated as legitimate market exchanges. A clear and comprehensive definition of distress sales—backed by enforceable legal standards—is essential. Where constitutionally viable, such a definition must apply retrospectively.

Second, fraudulent mutations and record tampering must be treated as serious criminal offenses. These are not minor administrative irregularities; they strike at the foundation of property rights. Identifying and prosecuting those responsible—whether intermediaries or officials—is critical not only for justice, but for deterrence.

Third, the burden of proof in disputed cases must be rebalanced. Expecting displaced individuals to prove illegality decades after the fact, often without access to original documents, is both unrealistic and unjust. Where a property is identified as belonging to a migrant, the onus should shift to the current occupant to demonstrate lawful possession.

Fourth, a dedicated, time-bound adjudicatory mechanism is essential. Conventional legal processes are too slow and too complex to address the scale and nature of these disputes. Without a specialized forum, cases will continue to languish, and justice will remain out of reach.

Finally, accountability must extend beyond individual cases. There must be a systematic audit of land records, particularly those altered during the critical years following displacement. Without confronting the scale of manipulation, any attempt at restitution will remain partial and fragile.

The story of the Kashmiri Pandit community is often framed in terms of exile, memory, and the longing for return. But return is not merely a matter of physical presence. It is inseparable from the restoration of rights—rights that have been steadily eroded over three decades.

Homes were not just abandoned. They were looted, burned, encroached upon, and, perhaps most damagingly, rewritten out of existence through manipulated records.

Three decades later, the injustice is no longer in question. What remains in question is the will to correct it.

Because until that happens, the promise of return will remain just that—a promise, unfulfilled and increasingly out of reach.

(Girdhari Lal Raina is a former Member of the legislative council of Jammu Kashmir and spokesperson of BJP JK-UT)