Erasing Kashmir’s Heritage & Identity

Not long ago, I sat down with my 95-year-old mother, a living witness to the history of Kashmir since the days of Maharaja’s rule. I showed her old, iconic photographs of Lal Chowk, Amira Kadal and Hari Singh High Street— images frozen in time, where volunteers at the time of partition once stood resolute, vowing to defend Kashmir and safeguard its people from raiders.

She examined the pictures closely, recalling about the surrounding grand old buildings in the background, the Kashmir talkies, where she had watched films, some nearby hotel buildings, where she remembers having tea with local cakes and breads and the lush, clean street of Lal Chowk with well-maintained pedestrian footpath followed by huge treeline in Pratap Park that started where today Ghanta Ghar is located.

She had walked through the area in her youth and remembers every inch of it along with the historical incidents that Lal Chowk has witnessed. She remembered the hurriedly made dais for Nehru and Sheikh to address the audience in Lal Chowk, where even women were seen at the forefront, vowing to defend Kashmir from any external attack post-1947. Then, with an innocence that cut deep, she asked, “Are these buildings and parks still standing?”

I hesitated. I felt ashamed to tell her the truth—that most of those historic structures had been razed, replaced by haphazard, uninspired constructions. The Pratap Park has been reduced. The city she remembered, with its local architectural grace, historical importance, and cultural soul, had given way to an unplanned sprawl of concrete and chaos.

Jammu and Kashmir, long celebrated as the ‘Switzerland of Asia,’ is being eroded, quite literally, by unchecked illegal construction, bureaucratic negligence, and political indifference. The breathtaking landscapes that once defined the region are under siege by relentless encroachments and land mafia gangs turning once-thriving spaces into congested, soulless clusters.

The time for passive observation has long passed. What Jammu and Kashmir need now is a dedicated Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE)—a watchdog agency with real power to enforce urban planning laws and hold violators accountable. Without decisive action, the region risks losing not just its aesthetic charm, but its very identity.

The Rot Runs Deep

For decades, illegal construction in Jammu and Kashmir has been a problem, and the trend shows no signs of lessening. Every weekend, on holidays, somewhere in the region, a new unauthorized structure rises—sometimes residential, sometimes commercial. There are regulations, but several loopholes are exploited with ruthless efficiency. Every one of us must have witnessed that in a neighbourhood, what begins as a small, seemingly harmless extension soon morphs into a permanent structure, setting a precedent for further encroachment. The administration, either due to inertia or collusion, has consistently failed to curb this menace.

Take a walk through any commercial hub in Srinagar, particularly around Lal Chowk, and compare it to when you were a child and witness firsthand the extent of the encroachment, footpaths reduced, lanes narrowed, and by-lanes vanished.

Many of the lanes and by-lanes that were originally designated as fire gaps have vanished and been swallowed by unauthorized construction. It is scary. Should a fire break out, the congested buildings and the absence of essential safety measures could result in catastrophic destruction. The situation is a textbook case of preventable urban disaster, yet the authorities remain mute spectators.

The 2014 floods should have served as a wake-up call. The government, in its bid to help affected residents, introduced various rehabilitation schemes. Instead of benefiting the victims, these measures were exploited by opportunists, and land grabbers who used the relaxed regulations as a means to grab land or falling existing structures and expand illegally. Neighbourhoods like Hari Singh High Street and Lal Chowk bear testament to the unchecked expansion. Compare these buildings with old municipality maps of the city, and you will find it starkly contrasting the present-day reality of rampant encroachment. What was once government land or custodian land has been swallowed up by greed and interests, and officials have either turned a blind eye or actively facilitated these violations and breaches.

From Wooden Grace, tile bricks to Concrete Chaos

Jammu and Kashmir’s built heritage is also a casualty of this construction frenzy in the name of modernisation. Kashmir’s architectural style was a unique blend of Kashmiri, Mughal, and British influences, defining features of its cities. Traditional wooden and brick structures with intricate designs and delicate facades lent Srinagar an old-world charm. But today, these buildings are disappearing. They are being replaced by soulless concrete monoliths that are neither aesthetically appealing nor structurally sound.

The transformation of Hari Singh High Street is particularly illustrative. In the 1970s, when Sheikh Abdullah was Chief Minister, one of his first acts was to restore the area’s architectural heritage. He ordered the uniform painting of wooden facades in a deep wood cherry colour, reviving the street’s historical elegance. Fast forward to today, and what remains is a mishmash of unregulated, poorly planned constructions. Buildings that once boasted distinctive Kashmiri balconies and wooden arcades have been defaced or demolished entirely, replaced by drab cement structures that destroy the city’s character.

Geneva offers a stark contrast. In the Swiss city, authorities enforce strict urban preservation laws, allowing homeowners to renovate interiors but strictly regulating exterior modifications. This policy has helped maintain Geneva’s historical charm while allowing for modern functionality. Why, then, can Kashmir not implement similar measures? If we continue on this trajectory, the ‘Switzerland of Asia’ will soon be indistinguishable from any other overbuilt, congested urban sprawl.

A Culture of Impunity

The problem is not a lack of laws but will or failure to implement them. The destruction of Jammu and Kashmir’s urban landscape is not only a result of haphazard development, but it is also symptomatic of a larger governance failure. Despite a myriad of municipal regulations and urban planning guidelines, enforcement is negligible. Complaints by locals if any are buried deep into their official files. The usual modus operandi is predictable, an unauthorized temporary structure appears, authorities look the other way, and once the structure is completed, it is conveniently regularised through political or bureaucratic manoeuvring.

The need for a department of government efficiency or effectiveness has never been greater. This body should be tasked with enforcing laws, monitoring construction activities, deep dive into the offices that allow this to happen and penalizing violators. But our experience is that the same agencies that should be preventing illegal constructions are often complicit in the very violations they are meant to curb. It is time for accountability on all sides.

The effects of this encroachment are already manifesting in environmental degradation and the destruction of tourist attractions. Look into the conditions of the once pristine waterbodies of the valley, the main attraction to tourism, choking under the burden of unchecked construction along its periphery. It is difficult nowadays to view Shankaracharya Hills from the streets of Srinagar; once offering a panoramic view from any part of the city, they are now obstructed by sometimes illegal and mainly concrete structures creeping up.

Similarly, the once-breathtaking views of Kashmir tree-line and beauty are now marred by haphazard construction, and the meadows of Gulmarg, Sonamarg, most iconic tourist destinations, are begging for some action as encroachments have threatened and bleed its fragile ecosystem.

The Time to Act is Now

If Jammu and Kashmir are to preserve their identity, there must be an immediate crackdown on illegal encroachments. The government must empower citizens to report violations and ensure strict enforcement of existing regulations. More importantly, past and present officials who have enabled this rampant destruction must be held accountable. If local citizens are given some assurance that their complaints will have action-oriented results, I am sure it will turn into a public-driven campaign to save their beautiful valley. A failure to act now will leave future generations with nothing but regret and ruin.

The valley does not need more policies, it needs execution. It does not need more committees, it needs accountability. The beauty of Kashmir is its most valuable asset, and if we do not take decisive action to preserve it, history will judge us as the generation that let paradise slip away.

Author is National Editor, Greater Kashmir