UNITED NATIONS, 31 October 2006 — The United Nations is spending about $8 million in 2006 for the United Nations Military Observer Group for India and Pakistan (UNMOGIP), to monitor that no one crosses the UN established “cease-fire line” that has divided Kashmir since 1949. For 2005, the budget was $8.37 million. These amounts are public monies collected from people by governments for UN peacekeeping assessments. Such public monies have supported the UN force in Kashmir since 1949.
The UN “cease-fire line” ended hostilities between Pakistan and India in 1949 over control of Kashmir. But in the process of monitoring that no one crosses the UN “cease-fire line”, UNMOGIP in essence became Kashmir’s “Berlin Wall” — a purpose never envisaged for the UN military observers.
This means that a mother living in the Indian administered part of Kashmir cannot see her son in the Pakistani administered part, and vice versa. In such circumstances, family gatherings, such as at weddings, are out of question.
After several decades, the start of the bus service in April 2005 between the Pakistani and Indian controlled sides of Kashmir, raised high hopes among the Kashmiris. Families divided by the UN “cease-fire line” (also dubbed as “line of control”) were upbeat they would be able to meet after decades. There was great jubilation among crowds of people on both sides who had lined up throughout the 179-kilometer bus route from Muzaffarabad to Srinagar.
But now, about a year and a half later, the euphoria has died down, and the bus service is considered more of a hyped-up “window dressing” rather than an actual way of reuniting Kashmiri families. Kashmiris are disappointed.
A bus ride across the UN “cease-fire line,” is essentially considered a “once in a lifetime” experience, stated Syed Yusuf Naseem, a politically prominent resident of Muzaffarabad, who also has family on the Indian side of Kashmir.
“Instead of having a semi-monthly service with 30 passengers, out of which about half are returning passengers, the road should be opened to private vehicles, so that people can travel whenever they wish,” Naseem elaborated.
“The number of applicants for the bus service greatly exceeds our capacity to deliver, under the present semi-monthly 30 passenger inter-Kashmir bus service,” stated Liaqat Hussain, a Muzaffarabad official. “Kashmiris have been waiting for decades for just a glance of their loved ones.”
On April 7, 2005, this writer was a passenger on the first bus to travel this route in decades, from Muzaffarabad to Srinagar. As I had been cleared by both Pakistan and India in 2005 — to test if I could travel by bus again, I applied for a permit in April 2006. Pakistani officials permitted me to go on a ‘standby basis’ up to the UN “cease-fire line” exit point in the town of Chakothi, in the hope that bus from the Indian side would physically deliver my clearance papers. Until October my 2006 papers had not come through. Other persons on both sides of the UN “cease-fire line” face similar delays.
A factor in bureaucratic delays is that bus service officials in Srinagar and Muzaffarabad communicate only through written documents sent via the bus service — that is twice a month. Electronic and phone messages are not used by officials processing applications, according to Muzaffarabad bus officials.
Among the factors that have impeded the progress of the bus service, are major factors such as last October’s earthquake, which destroyed “Lal Pull” a bridge over which passengers walk on foot to cross the UN “cease-fire” line, after disembarking from buses from Muzaffarabad and Srinagar.
About a year after last October’s earthquake, numerous tents are visible along the Muzaffarabad-Srinagar road which starts at Domel Bridge in Muzaffarabad. The road shows the distance between Muzaffarabad and Srinagar as being 179 kilometers. The road itself is narrow with landslides and repair crews clogging up and competing with vehicles.
Residents living in tents along the Muzaffarabad-Srinagar road spoke of the tragedy of families divided by the UN “cease-fire” line, and about the additional tragedy of the earthquake of last year.
They seemed apprehensive of the coming winter months. On the same road, near the town of Hattian, Abdul Qayyum pointed to buildings that still stand badly demolished. He spoke of how his life had been turned upside down.
In the town of Gucha, along the Muzaffarabad-Srinagar road, Fatima a student clad in a white shalwar-kameez and pink shawl, showed me some of the tents. “We have no toilets,” she said. But her eyes lit up with hope at the prospect of seeing family members across the UN’s “cease-fire line.”