When Bulldozers Speak, Democracy Watches
By: Javid Amin | 28 November 2025
In the early hours of a chilly November morning in 2025, bulldozers rolled into the quiet lanes of Transport Nagar, Jammu — not to build, but to destroy. What followed was a demolition operation that didn’t just raze a house; it ignited a political conflagration. The house belonged to the family of local journalist Arafaz Ahmad Daing. The razing of a decades-old home — built by his father nearly forty years ago — has invoked sharp allegations from the highest echelons of government.
Omar Abdullah, Chief Minister of the Union Territory of Jammu and Kashmir (J&K), condemned the action as a “deliberate conspiracy” by officers appointed by the Raj Bhawan. He argued that such actions bypass not just administrative protocol, but strike at the very heart of democratic governance. What began as an anti-encroachment drive has now become a crystallised symbol of fault lines — between elected authority and administrative power, between civil liberties and heavy-handed enforcement, between communal fear and interfaith solidarity.
This article delves into the layers of that demolition — from ground realities to political fallout, from human stories to larger constitutional questions.
The Day It Happened: Bulldozers in Transport Nagar
On 28 November 2025, the Jammu Development Authority (JDA), accompanied by a substantial police presence, razed the home of Arafaz Ahmad Daing in Jammu’s Transport Nagar/Narwal area.
According to multiple reports:
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The house had belonged to Daing’s father and had stood for about 40 years — a modest three-marla dwelling.
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The demolition was carried out without prior notice, according to Daing and other locals.
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The operation reportedly involved multiple bulldozers (JCBs), and as many as 700–800 policemen and security personnel.
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Daing claims he was prevented from even making a phone call as the demolition proceeded; the videos circulating on social media show him being whisked away by cops even as the house was pulled down.
The speed and scale of the operation — demolishing a single modest home with such a large police and machinery contingent — raised immediate alarm bells. Many local residents, political leaders, and civil society activists described it as a classic case of “selective demolition.”
JDA’s justification: the structure was allegedly built on “state land,” making it an illegal encroachment. This, the JDA claimed, was part of an ongoing anti-encroachment drive.
But for many, the stark irony wasn’t lost: a home occupied by a journalist — and a family for decades — destroyed in minutes, while long-standing encroachments allegedly belonging to influential persons remain untouched.
Political Backlash — Elected Government vs Administrative Power
Omar Abdullah’s Accusations: Bulldozers Without Consent
Reacting sharply to the demolition, Chief Minister Omar Abdullah accused officers appointed by Raj Bhawan of executing the bulldozer drive without consultation or consent of the elected government. He argued that such unilateral actions amount to a “conspiracy” aimed at defaming and humiliating the government elected by the people.
Omar questioned the logic behind targeting a single modest house when thousands of kanals of alleged encroached JDA land remain untouched. He demanded that JDA publish a full list of illegal constructions across Jammu — to show whether this was genuinely a drive against encroachments or a selective crackdown.
Moreover, the Chief Minister raised a critical governance question: how can field-level staff, revenue officers, and heads of development authorities be appointed without the consent of ministers or the elected government itself? In his view, such practice undermines the very foundation of democratic governance.
Accusations of Targeted Action — Minority & Media at Risk
Omar Abdullah didn’t mince words: he suggested that the demolition may have been motivated by the religion of the individual targeted. Calling the action a “pick-and-choose policy,” he asked bluntly: “Was this the only place in Jammu that had encroachment? Why only this family?”
He also emphasized that while his government does not condone illegal occupation of state land, enforcement must be uniform, fair, and transparent — not a tool for political vendetta.
From other quarters too, the concern was similar. The demolition was widely described as “selective,” with critics pointing out that small-time homeowners and low-income dwellers are being targetted, while powerful individuals with large properties remain unaffected.
So, one demolition has escalated into a much bigger question — who really wields power in J&K today: the elected government or the bureaucratic machinery under the Lieutenant Governor and Raj Bhawan?
Press Freedom & Civil Liberties — When Journalism Becomes Risky
The demolition of a journalist’s house has ignited deep anxiety across media and civil-society circles. For many, this isn’t just a land dispute — it is an attack on press freedom and civic expression.
Daing, the journalist, claimed that his reporting — including on sensitive issues like cross-border drug trafficking — may have triggered the demolition.
According to a report from independent observers:
“Team of 100s, fleet of JCBs … all this to demolish just one house! No, this is not a demolition drive against drug mafia, or OGWs or terrorists — but a journalist. While most of the state land in Jammu is encroached by influential politicians, a common man pays the price for speaking the truth!” Telegraph India
Whether this is a targeted action or a justified enforcement, the chilling effect is unmistakable. A journalist — whose job is to question power, expose wrongs — sees his home destroyed overnight. Without notice. Without dialogue. Without recourse.
Such incidents risk creating a climate of fear among journalists, especially regional and local reporters, who often operate without institutional protection. When the very act of raising uncomfortable questions may cost you your home, journalism becomes a dangerous vocation.
Civil-society activists, opposition parties, and press-freedom advocates have criticised the demolition, arguing that law enforcement must not become a tool of selective punishment, especially against those exercising their democratic right to free speech.
A Gesture of Humanity — Neighbour’s Gift Offers Hope Amid Turmoil
In the midst of political acrimony and civic outrage, a quiet act of compassion has added a human counterpoint to the controversy. A Hindu neighbour of Daing, Kuldeep Kumar (also referred to as Kuldeep Sharma in some reports), offered a five-marla plot of land to Daing’s family — essentially gifting them a chance to rebuild their home.
Kumar, accompanied by his daughter, executed a gift deed and publicly declared his intent to help reconstruct a new house for Daing’s family. “I will not let down my brother,” he said. “They destroyed his home on a three-marla plot. I am giving him a five-marla plot.”
The gesture quickly went viral on social media — not for political posturing, but as a genuine act of neighbourly solidarity. For many, it underscored a powerful message: across communal and identity lines, human compassion persists.
In a landscape increasingly divisive and polarised, this act of inter-faith solidarity challenges the prevailing narrative of fear and suspicion. It reminds citizens — and perhaps the state — that at the heart of public policy and land drives, there are people whose lives and dignity matter.
Broader Implications — Governance, Trust, and the Future of J&K’s Democracy
Elected Authority vs Administrative Overreach
At the heart of this crisis lies a fundamental question: in a polity where power is constitutionally divided, who controls the machinery on the ground? The demolition has forced this question into the spotlight.
Omar Abdullah’s assertion that officers appointed by Raj Bhawan are acting without approval raises serious concerns about democratic accountability. If developmental authorities and revenue staff operate independently of the elected government, the democratic mandate begins to feel hollow.
Such a structure risks bypassing the checks and balances that are essential to good governance. And when deployment of coercive power — police + bulldozers — becomes detachable from electoral accountability, the danger is that law may be applied unevenly, arbitrarily, or worse — selectively.
Trust Deficit & Civil Discontent
The demolition has worsened an already existing trust deficit between citizens and institutions. When a journalist’s home — occupied for decades — is destroyed without notice, many marginalized individuals living on fragile land tenure arrangements must wonder: am I next?
Opposition parties have seized on the incident to criticize the government’s transparency and accountability. They allege that selective targeting of small landholders or minorities is being masked as administrative enforcement.
Importantly — such events tend to foster fear, resentment, and alienation among vulnerable communities. Over time, this erodes the social contract: the sense that “if I behave lawfully, the law and the state will protect me.”
Press Freedom Under Threat — A Dangerous Precedent
This demolition may mark a disturbing precedent — where being a journalist, or writing on sensitive issues, can invite punitive action beyond the law. Even if JDA’s claims are legally tenable, when enforcement coincides with one person’s identity and occupation, the optics — and implications — are chilling.
If this is allowed to pass unchallenged, many journalists — especially local, independent reporters — may self-censor; others may abandon reporting altogether. For a democracy, that narrowing of space for journalistic inquiry is dangerous.
A Chance for Rebuilding — Physically and Institutionally
Yet, in the midst of rubble and outrage, there lies a rare opportunity. The neighbour’s gift — a simple act of solidarity — shows that human decency can persist even in the dirtiest of political fights.
But beyond symbolic gestures, there’s a pressing need for structural reform. The government, civil society, and citizens must demand:
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Transparency in how “encroachment” is defined, documented, and enforced.
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A public, audited list of alleged encroachments, with dates, notices served, documentation, and actual process of enforcement.
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Mechanisms to ensure that enforcement does not become arbitrary or discriminatory — especially towards minorities, migrants, or low-income residents.
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Protection for free speech and journalism: ensure that anti-encroachment laws or civic-enforcement regimes do not become tools for silencing dissent or criticism.
Unless such reforms are undertaken, the trust deficits, communal anxieties, and democratic damage may deepen — long after the walls of Daing’s old house have crumbled.
What the Political Parties Are Saying — Voices of Concern and Critique
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People’s Democratic Party (PDP) — Its president, Mehbooba Mufti, criticised the demolition, pointing to a broader pattern: selective targeting of minority and vulnerable households, while powerful individuals with large properties evade similar action. She described it as a “neglect of the state” and said the demolition shows the “brutal consequences” of dismissing protections for small homeowners.
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Opposition leaders and civil society — Many have condemned the selective execution of demolition drives and called for accountability. Critics have highlighted that while the JDA claims a large amount of land is under encroachment in Jammu (some 16,000+ kanals, as cited in official replies), only small houses like Daing’s appear to be targeted.
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Some ruling-allied voices — While the demolition has provoked outrage, not all supporters of the government have sided with the critics. One former J&K BJP leader, Ravinder Raina, who visited the site, offered solidarity to the affected family, calling the demolition “selective,” but denied any direct role of Raj Bhawan in ordering it. He cautioned against politicising the process, suggesting the blame game needed clearer evidence before drawing conclusions.
This cacophony of reactions — from sympathy and solidarity to denial and deflection — underscores the deep political tension the demolition has unleashed.
Governance Failures & Constitutional Stakes — Why This Matters Beyond One House
The demolition, in many ways, cuts to the core of how governance — and state authority — is structured in J&K. It raises urgent constitutional and administrative questions.
Centralization of Power vs State Autonomy
The fact that key officials of development authorities and revenue departments are appointed by Raj Bhawan — rather than the elected government — points to a deep structural issue. Decisions affecting land, housing, livelihoods, and civic life are being made by bureaucratic appointees, often without public accountability.
Such centralization erodes the meaning of electoral mandate. If the elected government lacks real control over ground-level administration, democracy becomes nominal — not structural.
Encroachment Drives Without Transparency — Potential for Abuse
Any legitimate anti-encroachment drive should follow due process: notices, hearings, rehabilitation plans (if people have lived there long), documentation, and transparency.
When demolitions happen without prior notice or public disclosure, especially against single small houses — while big encroachments remain — suspicion of misuse is natural.
Given the history of land disputes, demographic sensitivities, migrations, and religious pluralities in J&K, such opaque enforcement can become a tool for selective targeting and demographic engineering.
Risk to Civil Liberties — Press, Minority Rights, Housing Security
When land-regulation becomes a weapon rather than a public service, the risk extends beyond housing. It becomes a threat to civil liberties — especially for those who dissent, challenge authority, or belong to vulnerable communities.
For journalists, social activists, minority communities — the demolition spells far more than loss of property. It threatens their security, dignity, and willingness to speak out.
The Human Story — Lives, Loss, and Hope
Beyond the political statements and administrative arguments, this demolition is about people — about loss, pain, resilience and hope.
For the family of Arafaz Ahmad Daing:
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A home built by his father decades ago, held with memories and heritage, gone in minutes.
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No prior notice, no meaningful opportunity to defend — just bulldozers, police, rubble.
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The trauma of being uprooted, the uncertainty of shelter, the humiliation of a public spectacle.
Yet, in the face of this tragedy — a neighbour’s open-hearted gift. An act of humanity that refuses to see religion, identity or politics — only compassion.
For the wider society: this incident becomes a moment of reckoning. A chance to ask — what kind of governance do we want? One rooted in fairness, dignity and democracy — or one ruled by heavy-handed, opaque enforcement?
For J&K’s democracy, this demolition could mark a turning point — either deeper alienation, or a renewed demand for transparency, accountability and human dignity.
What Needs to Be Done — From Solidarity to Systemic Change
In light of this incident, several immediate and medium-term actions are critical:
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Public Audit of Encroachments: The JDA — under direction of elected government — should publish a complete and verified list of all alleged encroachments on state land, with dates of occupancy, notices served, and legal status. This would allow citizens to see whether enforcement is fair or selective.
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Transparent Demolition Protocols: Before any demolition, there should be transparent procedures — prior notice, hearings, opportunity to respond, relocation assistance (if applicable), and rehabilitation options for owners who may have lived for decades.
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Protection for Vulnerable Communities and Journalists: State and civil-society mechanisms should ensure that enforcement actions do not target individuals because of their religion, social background, or political views. Journalistic freedom must be protected.
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Administrative Reform — Restore Elected Government’s Authority: The field-level staff and heads of development authorities should ideally be appointed by, or at least in close coordination with, the elected government to avoid arbitrary actions.
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Encouragement of Civic Solidarity: The gift of land by a neighbour — transcending religious and communal divides — shows the power of human compassion. State and civil society should encourage such gestures and build frameworks for communities to help each other.
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Legal & Judicial Oversight: Courts and human-rights commissions should offer oversight, providing a recourse for families wrongfully targeted, and ensuring state actions respect constitutional guarantees of equality, dignity, and due process.
Conclusion — A House Is Not Just Bricks: It’s Democracy, Dignity, Hope
The demolition of Arafaz Ahmad Daing’s house in Jammu is not just an isolated incident — it is a warning sign. A house razed in minutes speaks louder than bulldozers: about who really has the power, who is protected, who is vulnerable.
For the people of Jammu and Kashmir, this is a moment of decision. Will we allow governance to be reduced to bulldozer-led drives and administrative overreach — or will we insist on a state that values human dignity, equality, justice and transparency?
The gift of land by a neighbour shows that even in times of outrage, humanity remains. But to build a house, and a democratic society, we need more than compassion — we need structural reforms, accountability, and respect for citizen rights.
Because a home is not just bricks and mortar. It’s memory. It’s identity. It’s dignity. And above all — it’s hope.
