
India’s latest political theatre—the so-called Indian Heaven Premier League (IHPL) in Srinagar—is yet another desperate attempt to project a false sense of normalcy in Indian Illegally Occupied Jammu and Kashmir (IIOJK). Cloaked under the banner of sport and development, this event is nothing short of a propaganda exercise designed to mislead the world about the reality on the ground. Far from being a celebration of cricket, the IHPL stands as a chilling reminder of India’s settler-colonial project, human rights violations, and its blatant defiance of international law.
The staging of IHPL in IIOJK has less to do with promoting sports and more to do with political optics. Since the unilateral abrogation of Article 370 in August 2019, the Modi government has been relentlessly working to fabricate a narrative of “peace and progress” in the region. Hosting a glamorous domestic cricket league in Srinagar—complete with foreign players, commentators, and media coverage—fits perfectly into that narrative.
The IHPL represents a dangerous weaponization of sport. India’s attempt to use cricket—a game revered across South Asia—as a diplomatic and psychological tool is deeply cynical. The tournament is meant to convey a false message to the international community: that Kashmir is stable, peaceful, and thriving under Indian rule. But this is a gross misrepresentation of facts. Kashmir remains one of the most militarized regions on Earth. Human rights organizations continue to document torture, custodial deaths, enforced disappearances, and extrajudicial killings. Reports by the United Nations and Amnesty International have repeatedly underscored India’s systemic repression of Kashmiri Muslims and political leaders. Holding cricket matches amid such brutal realities is not an act of normalization—it is an act of concealment.
What makes this episode even more disheartening is the international community’s silence. By sending referees and foreign players to IIOJK, India seeks not just domestic validation but also an implicit international endorsement of its illegal occupation. It is, in essence, a soft-power campaign to overwrite the territory’s disputed status. Yet, this strategy has largely backfired. Several international players have reportedly apologized for agreeing to participate after learning of the political implications. Others have quietly withdrawn, recognizing that their presence would legitimize a propaganda event held on occupied land. This quiet resistance reflects a growing awareness among athletes and activists worldwide that sports cannot be detached from morality and justice.
Even within IIOJK, enthusiasm for the IHPL is nonexistent. Reports of half-empty stadiums, lack of local participation, and widespread fear among residents are testament to the region’s continuing alienation. Many Kashmiris have refused to attend or watch the matches, viewing them as part of the larger “normalcy drama” orchestrated by New Delhi. This is not the first time India has tried to stage such spectacles. The 2022 concert organized by Lieutenant Governor Manoj Sinha featuring Bollywood singer Sonu Nigam was met with a complete boycott, with empty chairs outnumbering attendees. Kashmiri analysts rightly note that security cannot be built on performance art. “You cannot manufacture peace by staging events under the shadow of the gun,” a political observer from Srinagar told Al Jazeera.
The IHPL must be seen in the context of India’s broader strategy to “normalize” its occupation of Kashmir. Since 2019, New Delhi has introduced a series of settler-colonial policies aimed at changing the demographic composition of the region. Land laws have been amended to allow non-Kashmiris to purchase property, and thousands of domicile certificates have been issued to outsiders.
For Pakistan, this Indian misadventure offers an opportunity to re-energize diplomatic efforts and expose the hypocrisy of New Delhi’s narrative. The failure of the IHPL to attract genuine international participation underscores the world’s discomfort with India’s coercive tactics. Pakistan must use this moment—especially in the wake of India’s setbacks following the May 2025 conflict—to remind the global community of its obligations under international law. The struggle for Kashmir’s right to self-determination cannot be overshadowed by cricket tournaments or cultural festivals. Real peace in South Asia will come not from photo-ops and stadium lights but from justice, dialogue, and the restoration of fundamental rights to the Kashmiri people.
India’s attempt to sportswash its occupation of Kashmir through the Indian Heaven Premier League is both morally indefensible and strategically short-sighted. Stadium lights cannot hide the darkness of repression, nor can cricket commentary drown out the cries for freedom echoing across the valley. Kashmir’s story cannot be rewritten with a scoreboard. The world must see through this spectacle and remember that beneath every ball bowled in Srinagar lies a silenced voice, a shuttered shop, and a longing for the promised plebiscite. Until that promise is fulfilled, no event—however grand—can claim to represent normalcy in a land that remains under siege.
