When tourists booked the Dachigam national park tickets but politicians got the park.
The National Conference government’s decision to convene a high-profile party meeting in Dachigam Wildlife National Park may have appeared routine to party leaders. Political parties hold meetings. Governments hold retreats. Leaders gather to discuss strategy and governance. There is nothing inherently objectionable about that. What is objectionable, however, is when political convenience collides with public interest, and ordinary citizens are the ones left stranded.
Days before the meeting, Chief Minister Omar Abdullah publicly announced the gathering. News reports carried the information. Social media discussions followed. Political workers knew about it. Journalists knew about it. The administration knew about it.Yet, apparently, the people who mattered least in the entire arrangement were the tourists who had already booked their visit to Dachigam for June 3.
If access to the park was going to be restricted because of a political event, why were bookings not suspended in advance? Why were visitors not informed beforehand? Why were tourists allowed to make plans, spend money, and travel, only to discover that a public destination had effectively become unavailable because a ruling party had chosen it as the venue for its meeting?These are not trivial questions. They go to the heart of how public institutions are viewed and how governments understand their obligations toward citizens.
For years, successive governments have spoken about the importance of tourism to Kashmir’s economy. Tourism is presented as the lifeline of thousands of families, hotel owners, houseboat operators, taxi drivers, guides, handicraft sellers, photographers, restaurant workers, and countless others whose livelihoods depend on visitors. Every season, governments celebrate tourist arrivals as a measure of success.The present government is no exception.
Chief Minister Omar Abdullah has travelled extensively, participated in tourism promotion campaigns, attended investment and tourism events, and repeatedly urged people from across India to visit Jammu and Kashmir. Public funds are spent on advertising, outreach programmes, promotional campaigns, and official engagements designed to strengthen Kashmir’s image as a welcoming destination.
Yet tourism promotion cannot end with speeches, advertisements, and social media posts.Tourism is ultimately judged by experience.A tourist does not remember government advertisements. A tourist remembers whether roads were accessible, whether facilities functioned properly, whether bookings were honoured, and whether they were treated with respect.
When a visitor who books entry to a national park and then finds the gates effectively closed because political leaders have occupied the venue is unlikely to be impressed by official tourism slogans. The Dachigam episode therefore exposes a troubling contradiction. On one hand, the government urges tourists to come. On the other, it appears unable, or unwilling, to ensure that tourists who have already arrived are informed about disruptions caused by its own political activities. This is not merely a public relations problem. It is a governance problem.
Dachigam is not a private estate. It is not a party office. It is not a government guest house reserved exclusively for political elites. It is a public national park and one of Kashmir’s most important ecological and tourism assets. Access to such spaces must be governed by clear rules, transparency, and fairness.
When a public facility is partially or fully restricted because of an official or political event, advance notice should be the minimum requirement. Modern booking systems allow authorities to suspend reservations, issue alerts, send messages, and notify visitors almost instantly. None of this requires extraordinary effort.The absence of such communication suggests either administrative negligence or a belief that the inconvenience caused to ordinary visitors is not particularly important.Neither explanation is reassuring.
“Dachigam meeting controversy highlights a deeper, systemic issue: whether Kashmir’s government prioritizes public service and genuine tourist hospitality over political convenience. Ultimately, successful tourism relies on treating visitors with respect rather than just promoting a slogan.”
What makes the episode even more disappointing is that Kashmir’s tourism industry has spent years trying to overcome perceptions of uncertainty and unpredictability. Hoteliers, travel operators, and local businesses repeatedly emphasize the need to provide visitors with confidence and reliability. Trust, once lost, is difficult to rebuild.
Every avoidable incident that inconveniences tourists chips away at that trust. The government may argue that security considerations necessitated special arrangements. That argument deserves consideration. Security is important, especially when senior political leaders gather at a location. But security requirements do not excuse a failure to communicate with the public. In fact, security concerns make advance communication even more important.
Nobody expects political leaders to compromise their security. Citizens do, however, expect competent administration.The larger issue is one that extends beyond Dachigam itself. Across India, citizens increasingly express frustration with what is commonly described as VIP culture, the perception that public resources, public spaces, and public convenience are routinely subordinated to the requirements of politicians and powerful individuals.Roads are closed. Traffic is halted. Access is restricted. Ordinary people wait while the political class moves uninterrupted.
The Dachigam controversy risks being viewed through precisely this lens.The impression created is that a public national park could effectively be repurposed for a political gathering while tourists adjusted their plans around the needs of those in power.That may not have been the intention, but public perception is shaped by outcomes, not intentions.
Governments often ask citizens to trust institutions. Trust, however, is a two-way relationship. Citizens are more likely to trust institutions when institutions demonstrate respect for citizens’ time, money, and expectations.A tourist who books a visit is not asking for special treatment. They are asking for the most basic administrative courtesy, accurate information.
The irony is difficult to miss. Kashmir’s tourism sector works tirelessly to attract visitors. Officials celebrate rising tourist numbers. Promotional campaigns showcase hospitality, professionalism, and world-class experiences.Yet one poorly managed event can undermine many of those efforts.The solution is neither complicated nor controversial.
If public venues are to host political or official events that affect visitor access, authorities should announce restrictions well in advance. Bookings should be suspended where necessary. Visitors should receive timely notifications. Alternative arrangements should be explored wherever possible. These are standard administrative practices, not extraordinary demands.
The controversy surrounding the Dachigam meeting will eventually fade from headlines. Political meetings come and go. News cycles move on. But the questions raised by the episode deserve lasting attention. Are public institutions primarily meant to serve the public, or are citizens expected to accommodate the political class whenever required? Is tourism promotion merely about attracting visitors, or is it also about respecting those who choose to come?
And most importantly, can a government that seeks to project Kashmir as a premier tourist destination afford administrative lapses that leave tourists feeling like an afterthought? The answers will determine whether tourism remains a slogan or becomes a genuine governing priority.Because in the end, the true test of hospitality is not how loudly a destination is promoted. It is how visitors are treated once they arrive.
(The author is a teacher and a researcher based in Gowhar Pora Chadoora of Central Kashmir’s Budgam district. The views, opinions and conclusions expressed in this article are those of the author and aren’t necessarily in accord with the views of “Kashmir Horizon”)
