Pakistan-Administered Kashmir in Turmoil: Why Protesters and Security Forces Are Clashing

For weeks, streets that would normally be filled with buses, shopkeepers and customers have instead witnessed barricades, demonstrations and heavily deployed security forces.

Pakistan-administered Kashmir—known officially in Pakistan as Azad Jammu and Kashmir and commonly called Pakistan-occupied Kashmir, or PoK, in India—is going through a serious political crisis. What makes the unrest particularly significant is that it is not centred on the traditional India-Pakistan confrontation over Kashmir. Much of the anger is coming from residents challenging their own political and economic conditions.

At the centre of the movement is the Joint Awami Action Committee, or JAAC, an alliance that has mobilised large demonstrations across towns including Rawalakot, Muzaffarabad, Mirpur and Kotli.

The dispute did not appear overnight.

For years, residents have complained about issues ranging from electricity prices and the cost of flour to governance and political representation. Earlier negotiations revolved around a 38-point list of demands. Regional authorities said 36 had been accepted, leaving two major disagreements unresolved.

One of those issues would eventually become the immediate trigger for the present crisis.

The Controversial 12 Seats

The regional legislative system reserves 12 seats for people displaced from Indian-administered Kashmir who now live elsewhere in Pakistan.

Supporters of the arrangement argue that the seats preserve political representation for communities displaced by the Kashmir conflict.

JAAC and many of its supporters see the situation very differently. They argue that people who do not actually live in Pakistan-administered Kashmir can exercise disproportionate influence over the government that governs those who do.

When the regional Supreme Court ruled in June 2026 that these seats were constitutionally protected and could not simply be abolished without a constitutional amendment, tensions rose sharply. The authorities had already banned JAAC, citing public-order and security concerns, and arrested a number of its supporters.

Then Rawalakot erupted.

Deaths Turned Protest Into Crisis

Clashes between protesters and security personnel in and around Rawalakot in early June left people dead on both sides.

Initial official and news-agency counts varied. By June 19, Reuters reported that at least 20 civilians and four police officers had been killed during nearly two weeks of unrest, while dozens of others had been wounded. Police said more than 500 people had been detained.

The violence did not end the movement.

Instead, strikes expanded.

Markets closed. Transport disappeared from roads. Protesters established blockades, and thousands gathered around protest centres. Authorities responded with road closures, arrests, an internet blackout and restrictions on access to parts of the region.

Human-rights groups also raised concerns. Amnesty International criticised the designation of the protest movement under anti-terrorism legislation and later called for communications restrictions to be lifted amid reports of lethal force against demonstrators.

For an ordinary family, however, the consequences were much more immediate than constitutional arguments.

When a Shutdown Means No Income

One of the easiest mistakes when following political unrest is to look only at rallies and casualty figures.

A prolonged shutdown reaches far beyond the protesters themselves.

Reuters described normally busy areas of Muzaffarabad becoming almost deserted. Day labourers were unable to find work. Taxi drivers lost customers. Petrol stations were closed, while internet restrictions affected ATMs and banking services. Some medical shops and food sellers could operate only for limited periods.

For a salaried official, losing several working days may be inconvenient.

For somebody who earns money each evening to buy food for the next day, it can become a crisis inside the larger crisis.

That economic pain creates a vicious circle. Protests begin partly because people feel economically neglected; prolonged unrest then damages local businesses and employment even further.

Elections Failed to Calm the Situation

By late July and August, the unrest had become inseparable from regional elections.

Thousands of demonstrators continued challenging the political system, while Pakistan's main opposition party, Pakistan Tehreek-e-Insaf, boycotted the election over allegations of electoral manipulation. Voting in several constituencies was postponed because of security concerns.

The Pakistan Muslim League-Nawaz emerged as the leading party, but the very refugee seats opposed by protesters became important to its expected majority.

That creates a serious legitimacy problem.

If a new government depends heavily on the same political arrangement that helped trigger demonstrations, convincing angry residents that the system represents them becomes much harder. Political analyst Hasan-Askari Rizvi told Reuters that the region could remain at “boiling point.”

The casualty figures also became increasingly contested. JAAC claimed that more than 30 people were killed around Rawalakot during clashes following the first phase of voting. Pakistani authorities rejected that figure and accused protesters of links to India. Reuters said it could not independently verify the protest group's toll.

That disagreement itself illustrates another consequence of the blackout: when journalists and citizens have limited communication and access, establishing even basic facts becomes difficult.

A Crisis Bigger Than One Election

The unrest now presents several problems at once.

There is a human cost in lives lost and families injured or detained. There is an economic cost created by shutdowns, blocked transport and interrupted commerce. There is a democratic problem when elections take place amid boycotts, postponed voting and allegations of interference. And there is a human-rights question over how governments should respond when a mass civil movement includes both peaceful protesters and episodes of violence.

There is also an international consequence.

Because Kashmir remains disputed between India and Pakistan, unrest on either side quickly becomes part of the larger diplomatic confrontation. Islamabad has alleged Indian involvement in the protests; India, meanwhile, has highlighted the violence as evidence of problems under Pakistani administration. Such competing narratives risk turning local grievances into another instrument of the decades-old geopolitical dispute.

Yet reducing everything happening there to India versus Pakistan would miss the central story.

Residents are arguing about the cost of living, representation, political influence and how they are governed.

Security forces may be capable of reopening a road or breaking a blockade.

They cannot, by force alone, resolve the grievances that put thousands of people on those roads in the first place.

That may ultimately be the most serious consequence of the crisis in Pakistan-administered Kashmir: not simply the violence already witnessed, but the widening distance between citizens and the institutions that are supposed to represent them.