November 6th is etched in the collective memory of Jammu and Kashmir as a day of unspeakable horror. Seventy-six years ago, the province of Jammu witnessed a systematic campaign of violence that forever altered its demographic and cultural fabric. What unfolded was not random chaos but a calculated act of genocide, one that remains buried under layers of silence and distortion.
The magnitude of the killings is staggering. The Times of London, in its August 10, 1948 report, estimated that 237,000 Muslims were slaughtered in Jammu during this orchestrated purge. This marks it as one of the gravest human tragedies of the 20th century, as an attempt to erase an entire community from its homeland.
The Witness: Ved Bhasin
The late journalist Ved Bhasin, revered for his integrity and courage, was among the few who bore witness to the carnage. His testimony remains indispensable to understanding the truth of 1947.
Bhasin recalled how Muslims were butchered across Udhampur, Chenani, Ramnagar, Reasi, and even Bhaderwah. He described the chilling role of the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS), whose cadres, alongside armed Sikh refugees, paraded through Jammu’s streets with naked swords. Training camps had been set up where volunteers were drilled in weapons and indoctrinated with anti-Muslim hatred. Bhasin himself saw these camps and overheard their leaders openly discussing the planned massacre.
Perhaps most damning was the complicity of the ruling establishment. Alarmed by the growing conspiracy, Bhasin, along with activists Balraj Puri and Om Saraf, sought an urgent audience with Prime Minister Mehr Chand Mahajan.
Instead of addressing their concerns, Mahajan reportedly dismissed them and spoke instead of political arithmetic—demanding equal seats for Hindus in the Assembly to secure the Maharaja’s rule through “Hindu numerical strength.” When Saraf questioned how a Muslim-majority state could be governed on such logic, Mahajan is said to have pointed to a gorge near the palace wall. In that ravine lay the unburied bodies of Muslim Gujjars. That was a grotesque metaphor for the state’s method of governance.
Bhasin later told the BBC that the Maharaja’s administration did not restrain the violence but actively enabled it. Curfews were imposed not to protect the victims but to trap them, while rioters roamed freely with arms and ammunition. The intent, Bhasin concluded, was clear - to alter the demographic balance of Jammu by force.
A Demographic Shift
The consequences were irreversible. Entire Muslim-majority villages in Jammu were emptied. Today, Muslims constitute barely ten percent of Jammu district’s population.
As Bhasin himself acknowledged, while similar violence did occur against Hindus and Sikhs in Rajouri and Mirpur, the state’s patronage of the massacre of Muslims in Jammu was undeniable and far more systematic.
Why Memory Matters
The genocide of November 1947 is not merely a historical wound. It is a foundational tragedy that continues to shape the politics and identity of Jammu and Kashmir. Yet it remains obscured, denied, or reduced to footnotes in official histories.
In today’s climate, where majoritarianism is once again weaponised and state power often appears aligned with communal agendas, the echoes of 1947 feel dangerously close. The lesson of that dark November is urgent: silence and denial only pave the way for repetition.
On this anniversary, remembrance must go beyond mourning. It must be an act of resistance against erasure. The Jammu genocide was not an accident of history but a state-abetted crime. To honour the victims is to insist on truth, to demand recognition, and to ensure that the shadows of the past never again eclipse the possibility of peace and justice in Jammu and Kashmir.
Have you liked the news article?