Nothing is clear in Kashmir except for the hatred and violence. The villagers live a stone’s throw away from the Line of Control, the disputed ceasefire line that marks the partition of Kashmir into Pakistani and Indian territory. U.S. President Bill Clinton has called the region “the most dangerous place in the world,” because disagreements over Kashmir could one day bring India and Pakistan–the two newest nuclear powers–to war. Muslim secessionists are fighting for independence in Indian Kashmir. New Delhi accuses Pakistan of stoking the militants’ jihad, or holy war–and blames the Pakistani Army for last year’s bloody offensive in Indian-controlled Kargil. Islamabad says Kashmiris should be allowed a referendum to decide their destiny. India wants the world to stay out of the conflict, but Pakistan hopes this week’s visit by Clinton to India and Pakistan will focus international attention on a solution to the Kashmir nightmare.
On the ground, violence is distorted by the thrum of government disinformation. No one can say for sure what happened on the night of Feb. 25. The Pakistani Army says Indian soldiers crossed into Pakistani Kashmir and fired automatic weapons on the 14 civilians. India denies its troops ever cross the line. New Delhi, meanwhile, has accused Pakistan-backed “terrorists” of entering Indian Kashmir, killing an Indian officer and six soldiers. A militant Kashmiri group broadcast in mosques that they avenged the civilians’ deaths by slaying 35 Indian soldiers and taking the heads of three. India confirms only that one soldier’s body was headless.
As the propaganda rages, fear spreads on both sides. Lanjod resident Mohammad Hussain, 55, whose son was killed, thinks Indians simply “want to kill Muslims.” Women collect water at night: Pakistani Army officers say Indian soldiers have fired on them in the daytime. The Indian Army insists it doesn’t aim for civilians; they get hurt, the Indians say, because the Pakistani Army has positions among the population. Just a couple of miles from Lanjod, the Pakistani Army houses a military post.
In Kashmir, villagers go about their business, instinctively knowing when to crouch in a ditch when shelling between India and Pakistan intensifies. Near Lanjod, Zahida, 16, says her family has put away their knives “so they can’t be used against us.” Each older child in the neighborhood looks out for a younger one. “Why talk about hell after death?” says Saleema, 35, who shows the scar on her arm where, she says, an Indian bullet took out a chunk of flesh. “We are living in hell right now.” And there seems to be no way out.
