A terror attack shook the nation in April 2025. And once again, India’s Muslims were left not only shaken but defending their very existence. As CSW’s in-country researcher writes: we must not let terror turn into collective punishment of religious minorities.
Twenty-six people were killed when terrorists attacked tourists in Pahalgam in Jammu and Kashmir on 22 April. The attackers reportedly singled out non-Muslims, even asking some to recite the Islamic Kalima (Islamic prayers derived from hadiths that are often used to aid South Asia Muslim children to memorise key beliefs) to prove their faith.
It was horrifying. And yet, amid the horror, ordinary Kashmiris – Muslim men and women – risked their lives to save strangers. People like Nazakat Ahmad Shah (a tour guide) and Rayees Ahmad Bhatt (President of the Pony Owners’ Association) pulled survivors from danger. A local pony guide Syed Adil Hussain Shah gave his life while trying to protect a little girl. But instead of being praised for their efforts, the Muslim community – especially the Kashmiri Muslim community – was vilified.
Their bravery was quickly forgotten. The national mood shifted from mourning to suspicion, and the blame – as it so often does in India – landed on an entire community.
Every time India suffers a terrorist attack such as this, especially one linked to Kashmir or with ‘Islamist’ connotations, Muslims across India are forced to prove their innocence.
Within hours of the massacre in Pahalgam, hate speech began to spread.
In Dehradun (Uttarakhand State), a leader from the far-right Hindu nationalist group Hindu Raksha Dal posted a video ordering all Kashmiri Muslims to leave the city by 10am the next day. Dozens of students fled overnight, terrified. Many had to borrow money for their flights home, some locking themselves in hostels until they could escape.
In Mussoorie (also in Uttarakhand), 16 Kashmiri shawl sellers left town after two were assaulted by locals.
In Punjab, Kashmiri girls were attacked in their hostels. One video showed a girl sobbing as she described being called a terrorist.
In Uttar Pradesh, members of the Kshatriya Gau Raksha Dal (another Hindu nationalist group) allegedly killed a Muslim man and wounded his cousin in retaliation for the Pahalgam violence.
The Association for Protection of Civil Rights (APCR) released a comprehensive report detailing the disturbing surge in anti-Muslim and anti-Kashmiri hate crimes across India after the attack, covering 22 April-8 May. The report documents 184 incidents affecting at least 316 individuals. It listed 84 cases of hate speech, 64 instances of intimidation, 42 of harassment, 39 assaults, 19 acts of vandalism, 14 threats, 7 verbal abuses and 3 murders.
This is part of a familiar pattern, and it isn’t just about Kashmiris.
It’s about what it means to be a religious minority in India today. It’s about how, when India’s Muslim community faces the same terror as every other Indian citizen, someone will still question where their loyalties lie.
Even voices of reason experience this.
Himanshi Narwal is a Hindu whose husband (Vinay Narwal, a navy officer) was killed in the Pahalgam attack. She tried to do her part to stop the hate, saying she didn’t want people turning against Muslims or Kashmiris, and speaking about how Kashmiri Muslim men helped her after her husband was killed.
It should have been a unifying moment. Instead, she was trolled online and stripped off her dignity, even amid her grief. She was told she wasn’t honouring her husband’s memory. Inappropriate remarks were made about her association with Muslim men.
Why do we love to hate so much?
Such developments have echoes of the aftermath of the February 2019 terror attack in Pulwama, in which a suicide bomber killed 40 members of India’s Central Reserve Police Force. In the weeks that followed, Kashmiri students faced violent reprisals, evictions and humiliation.
After every major communal flashpoint, whether it’s a riot or a terrorist attack, minorities pay a price – regardless of their involvement.
In times such as these, when terror seems to spread like wildfire, we must not let it justify collective punishment. Not let a beard, a hijab, or an accent become a target. Because when that happens, we are no longer fighting terrorism but feeding it. We are doing exactly what the attackers want: turning people against each other.