The Kashmir town trying to win back tourists after a deadly attack

4 hours ago

Nazakat Ali's phone rings in the evening, as it often does now.

The 30-year-old tourist guide in Indian-administered Kashmir answers with the same practised calm every time - yes, it is safe; yes, he will be there; yes, they should come. On the other end are people planning holidays to the stunning Himalayan region, known for its mountains and meadows.

"There is a lot of fear," he says. "We have to convince them that everything is fine."

A year after militants killed 26 people in Pahalgam town - one of the deadliest attacks on tourists in Kashmir in decades - the region's tourism economy has yet to recover.

In the weeks that followed, authorities shut 48 of 87 tourist sites in the region. Visitor numbers fell sharply, from nearly three million in 2024 to under 1.2 million in 2025, according to official data. Some sites have since reopened, but Baisaran meadow - where the killings took place - remains closed.

The assault struck at the heart of a fledgling industry that has endured despite years of uncertainty.

Violence in Kashmir, claimed in full by both India and Pakistan but administered in parts by each, has claimed thousands of lives in the past few decades.

The attack in Pahalgam added to the strain, triggering four days of military conflict between the neighbouring countries, with Delhi accusing a Pakistan-based group of carrying out the killings - a charge Islamabad denied. A ceasefire was announced four days later.

While tourist numbers have since begun to recover elsewhere in Indian-administered Kashmir, Pahalgam - once among the busiest destinations - has struggled to draw visitors back. The town recorded about 259,000 visitors between January and mid-April this year, down from more than 469,000 in the same period before the attack.

The decline has hit local businesses hard. Just four months before the attack, Mohammad Abubakar, 25, invested two million rupees ($21,254; £15,762) to open a hotel.

"But after April, we earned almost nothing," he said, adding that he had to shut down the business.

The impact has not only been felt in numbers.

In the days after the killings - which prompted protests and condemnation across the region - security operations intensified. Nearly 3,000 young men were detained for questioning, and in some areas authorities demolished the homes of suspected militants, extending the consequences of the attack into everyday life.

While officials say the security situation has since stabilised, for those who depend on tourism the uncertainty has lingered - raising questions over when, or if, visitors will return.

"We've seen difficult times before," said Abdul Waheed Bhat, head of the pony riders' association in Pahalgam.

"But this attack is different. This has sent a very negative message."

Over the years, Kashmir's conflict has produced a grim cycle - phases of protest, security crackdowns and militant violence that flare and recede, followed by periods in which daily life is gradually pieced back together.

Tourism, too, found a place within that uneasy pattern. Even during years of unrest, places like Pahalgam - known for its pine forests and alpine meadows - were largely spared from direct violence.

The attack last April shattered that.

By targeting visitors in one of Kashmir's busiest hubs, locals say it disrupted a delicate balance that had allowed livelihoods to coexist with instability.

That shift is now visible in daily life.

In Pahalgam, mornings still arrive the same way - a pale wash of light over pine slopes, the river moving steadily through the valley.

But the rhythm of the day has changed.

Guides gather at the roadside, waiting for work that may or may not come. By afternoon, small groups of visitors drift through, taking photographs quickly, as if aware of time. By evening, the town empties out, with few choosing to stay the night.

Hotels that once ran at full capacity now sit largely empty, with as much as 80% of rooms unoccupied.

"Last year my target was to earn around 20m rupees but I could only make 1.5m," said Mushtaq Ahmad Magrey, who heads Pahalgam's hotel association.

About three miles from the meadow, a memorial now stands. People approach it slowly. Some leave flowers. Others linger only for a moment, reading the names of the victims before stepping back, as though unsure how long it is appropriate to stay.

For Nazakat Ali, that hesitation has become part of the job.

Each call carries an unspoken calculation - how much to reassure, how firmly to say it.

"Nothing in the landscape has changed, and yet the place does not feel entirely the same," he said.

The attack also cut across the federal government's broader effort to present Kashmir as stable and open to tourism.

In recent years, authorities have pointed to rising visitor numbers, new infrastructure and high-profile events as signs of normalcy returning - particularly after the 2019 revocation of the region's semi-autonomous status, a move that was accompanied by a security lockdown, communication blackout and a sharp, though temporary, collapse in tourist arrivals.

Officials now point to early signs of recovery, saying the broader security situation remains relatively stable, with violence at one of its lowest levels in decades.

Syed Qamar Sajad, Kashmir's tourism director, declined to share figures for this claim but said that tourists were still visiting the region, including Pahalgam, suggesting that "confidence is gradually returning".

"We are hinged to hope," he said, adding that outreach efforts were being stepped up across India.

Some visitors have returned, cautiously. Kiran Rao, visiting with his family from Kerala, said security concerns had not stopped them from coming.

"There were worries before we booked," he said. "But it feels good to be here."

For many in Kashmir, however, last year has been harder to move past.

Rayees Ahmad Bhat, a horse rider, was among the first to reach the meadow after the shooting.

A year on, the memory still haunts him.

"I saw bodies lying all around," he said. "People crying for help."

In the months that followed, he sought therapy.

Then there is Syed Haider Shah, whose son Adil - a pony rider and the family's sole breadwinner - was killed as he tried to shield tourists, guiding them away from the attackers.

"We miss him every day," Shah said. "But we are proud of him."

Elsewhere, the aftermath has taken a different shape.

In Pulwama district, Abdul Rashid said his family had spent the past year in a makeshift shelter after their house was demolished days after the attack, part of a wider crackdown.

His son, who had joined a militant group, had been killed the previous year.

Authorities say such demolitions are meant to deter militancy, but critics call them collective punishment.

For Rashid, that has meant enduring a harsh winter without a home.

"Temperatures dropped below zero," he said. "If someone has committed a crime, why should the family suffer?"

Back in Pahalgam, Nazakat Ali is still answering his phone, repeating the same reassurances to visitors.

"The place feels cursed now," he said.

Then the next call comes, and he begins again.