Goa's new fear of outsiders hurts Kashmiris who made it home

On Sunday, around a dozen residents and members of the gram sabha of a silent southern beach village of Majorda, 35 km from the Goan capital of Goa, sat for a gram sabha meeting. After a heated argument, they passed a resolution to conduct a survey to  identify Kashmiris conducting business in their village limits. No one seems to now how many Kashmiri businessmen are operating from Majorda but the decision by the gram sabha, a powerful institution with immense influence on the local population, could have a far-reaching impact on thousands of Kashmiris living in the coastal state. [caption id=“attachment_122471” align=“alignleft” width=“380”]  A file photograph of Goa.[/caption] Late on Monday, Majorda sarpanch Mozes Vaz told Firstpost on the phone that there is a demand by the villagers to cancel the licences of all Kashmiris. “I have assured them that we will be conducting a survey and that action will be taken.” The development comes after the 31 October violence by Nigerian nationals. The Nigerians attacked locals and policemen while demanding a fair investigation into the murder of a compatriot by a local gang alleged to be their rivals in the local drug trade. Soon after, racist banners appeared on the streets of Goa, and frightened locals took decisions against renting properties to Nigerians. How, exactly, did that balloon into a fear of all outsiders including Kashmiris who are  Indian citizens? “We are not saying that they foreign nationals," Vaz said about the sudden decision to do a survey of Kashmiris. “But many of them according to residents are involved in the narcotics trade. In the garb of selling handicrafts most of them sell drugs, that is why people want us to cancel their licences,” said Vaz. If the Majorda gram sabha has its way, it would perhaps change forever a state that has  until now had the distinction of never arresting or implicating a person of Kashmiri origin on false charges. This has been a rare distinction in India.     And that may explain why for more than five thousand Kashmiris, Goa is a second home. “Goa was safe for Kashmiri businessmen as compared to rest of the country. We came here, established our business and send our kids to school. Where will we go now if they throw us out?” Ehsan Wani, a Kashmir businessman in Anjuna told Firstpost. When militancy erupted in Jammu and Kashmir in the 1990s, arrival of tourists in the Valley came to a grinding halt. Thousands of businessmen associated with tourism migrated to tourist hotspots across India, partnering with locals. However, during the insurgency, many of these Kashmiri Muslims migrating for economic reasons faced harassment by the police who would often appear in their rented accommodations and arrest people on frivolous charges, only to be later acquitted by the courts. Goa was the only state where no one had ever complained of that discrimination. So much so that when police introduced the controversial ‘Stranger Rolls’ document in the state, no one complained. The police had motivated the Kashmiris that it was for their own safety. Early in September 2000, one cloudy afternoon, Dambolim Airport was still covered in mist when I stepped out of an aircraft. I had heard that in Goa, Kashmiris were stereotyped as drug dealers. The wealth acquired  by selling Kashmiri handicrafts and jewelry had made Kashmiri businessman soft targets for rumour mongers, that most of them were associated with drugs smuggling. This was my first visit to the tourist haven famous for its stunning virgin beaches and casinos for hippy tourists. Outside the airport, which is still managed by the Air Force, taxi drivers were jostling for space. But there was method to the madness. No one grabbed tourists by their shoulders for a ride or to take them to a hotel.   A hoarding, almost six feet high, caught my attention. It declared that the tourists had to respect local culture “and wear clothes that are modest and suitable to the local culture in the cities”. Though this was hardly what Goa was famous for. I lived for many years in that state, and it continues to remain my second home but the growing undercurrent against outsiders for “destroying local culture” was not unnoticeable. It has been growing slowly, fuelled by a plethora of reasons. One could notice it in the theatre plays in Kala Academy, where local artistes talked about the need to preserve the local culture even if by violent means. The hostilities between the outsiders and residents of Goa only grew by time most of it against the foreigners. But this time the tide seems to have turned against the Kashmiri also. “We are being seen as foreigners now. If one person has done something wrong, the entire community can’t be blamed for it. The safe Goa for Kashmir’s businessmen is no more. It is scary to live here now,” said Ali Mohammad, a gemstone shop owner on Dona Paula road. Mohammed, speaking to Firstpost on the phone, said he has been a resident of Goa for 30 years. Barring a few, most of the Kashmiris come to Goa for the tourist season before heading back to Kashmir. Most of them sell Kashmiri handicraft items, precious gems and stones. “We pay almost thirty percent of our earnings to the local police and gangs for our survival. We also pay to politicians. Never had a Kashmiri been accused of carrying out any anti national activity in Goa. If we are Indian citizens why a ‘strangers roll’ for us? Why bribery to conduct business?” says Tariq Ahmad, the proprietor of TNM Jewellry shop in Anjuna. But Yashodhan Wanage, who oversees drug enforcement in Western India, specifically Goa and Maharashtra, disagrees. He says many Kashmiris were arrested for working as drug mules.  “But I am not saying every Kashmiri is a drug dealer.” This season, Kashmiri businessmen had expected a prosperous season. The men they threw their weight behind in the last election had promised them that. They had said Kashmiris were more safe in Goa then in Kashmir. That man is the present Chief Minister of Goa, Manohar Parrikar. And the Kashmiris are feeling let down now