Meer Irfan
Feroz Ahmed Wani, a 51-year-old farmer, has not eaten for the last four days. He sits outside his orchard in Parigam, surrounded by the trees he has nurtured for decades.
His fast is a desperate protest against the government’s decision to acquire 4,834 kanals (approximately 600 acres) of prime horticultural karewa land for a new National Institute of Technology (NIT) campus.
“This land is my life. It is my family’s life,” he says, his voice breaking. “I only have 8 Kanal of land. If they take it away, what will we eat? How will we survive?”
Dar’s anguish reflects a broader crisis brewing in Kashmir, where agriculture remains the backbone of the economy and livelihoods. Recent surveys show that nearly 70 per cent of the region’s population depends on agriculture, either directly or indirectly.
Yet, fertile land is scarce, with only about 20% of Kashmir’s total area suitable for cultivation.
This small percentage is under relentless pressure from urbanization, infrastructural development, and now, government policies that prioritize non-agricultural projects over farming.
The proposed land acquisition comes at a time when global food security is increasingly under threat. Erratic weather patterns, rising temperatures, and unpredictable rainfall—aggravated by climate change—are disrupting agricultural systems worldwide.
The Food and Agriculture Organization (FAO) has repeatedly warned about the need to preserve arable land to mitigate these risks. Kashmir, however, seems to be moving in the opposite direction.
The karewa lands of Kashmir are not just fertile; they are unique. These elevated plateaus, known for their rich alluvial deposits, produce some of the world’s most valuable crops, including saffron, almonds, and high-density apples.
For decades, these lands have not only ensured food security for the region but also contributed significantly to its economy. However, the government’s decision to allocate this prime agricultural land for non-agricultural purposes threatens to upend this balance.
Experts caution that such actions could lead to long-term repercussions.
“Destroying fertile land is a narrow-minded approach,” stated Dr. Ishtiyaq, an environmental activist. “Kashmir’s karewa orchards are vital for ecological stability, carbon absorption, and maintaining local biodiversity. Their destruction would be permanent.”
This local crisis mirrors global challenges. As climate change shortens growing seasons and increases the frequency of extreme weather events, food production is becoming increasingly fragile.
In this context, the destruction of Kashmir’s fertile lands adds another dangerous dimension to an already precarious global food system.
5.5 lakh fruit trees at stake
Nazr ul Islam, a farmer from Lonepora, captured the human cost of these policies. “We have been using this land for decades. Four generations of our families have cultivated this land,” he lamented.
For many, the land has not only provided sustenance but also enabled them to secure loans for transitioning to high-density apple farming. The government’s promotion of this shift, with subsidies and technical support, now feels like a betrayal.
“Most of us are heavily in debt. If they take away our land, how will we repay the banks? What will we do for our livelihoods?” he questioned.
The project threatens over 5.5 lakh fruit trees, including almonds, apples, plums, walnuts, and apricots, wiping out decades of agricultural investment.
Arif Ahmed Wani from Parigam warned, “If the government takes over this land, it will damage the livelihoods of thousands of families. Parigam alone has over 1,000 families who will be entirely uprooted.”
“We have been farming this land for more than a hundred years, and our ownership is documented in official revenue records,” said Wani.
He also pointed out that banks have accepted this land as collateral for loans, a practice not extended to state-owned land.
Adding to the farmers’ frustration is the lack of consultation in the decision-making process.
While the Chief Minister assured farmers that their land would not be taken, a December 24, 2024, order to prepare documents for the land transfer has left residents skeptical.
“The government says one thing and does another. How can we trust them?” questioned Feroz Ahmed Wani.
600 acre campus?
Beyond its agricultural importance, the karewa land holds immense ecological significance. Orchards in this region help mitigate air pollution, sequester carbon, and provide habitats for essential pollinators.
The proposed NIT campus, at 600 acres, has also drawn criticism for its scale.
“The new campus spans nine times the size of the current 67-acre site in Hazratbal. What justifies such vast land for an engineering college?” questioned Ameer, a postdoctoral fellow.
The economic consequences are equally concerning.
With 75% of Kashmir’s population dependent on agriculture, any disruption to farming reverberates throughout the region.
Hamid, a postgraduate, emphasized, “When farmers lack the financial means, the other 25% of the population is also affected. It’s a harsh reality in our society.”
As residents brace for a prolonged fight to protect their land, the dispute underscores broader issues of land use, governance, and sustainable development in Kashmir.
Whether the government will heed their calls for alternatives remains uncertain, but the stakes—livelihoods, culture, and environmental integrity—could not be higher. Farmers like Ghulam Mohammed Dar remain resolute, even as they fast in protest.
“This is not just about land,” Wani said. “This is about our survival, our identity, and our future.”