The revelation that an educated, white-collar terror module from Kashmir was behind the blast near Red Fort in Delhi that killed 13 people has reopened an unsettling argument. The attack’s primary accused, including doctors and other professionals, represent a disturbing new face of militancy: one shaped not by poverty or illiteracy, but by ideological conviction, and transformation.
This new wave of radicalisation among educated Kashmiri youth poses profound questions — how did a society once anchored in tolerant Sufism evolve into a breeding ground for extremist ideas? What explains the ideological shift among the well-educated? And, critically, how can the Valley arrest this drift before it consumes another generation?
From Kashmiriyat to Caliphate dreams
For centuries, Kashmir’s spiritual and social fabric was built on Sufism —a syncretic understanding of Islam that emphasized compassion, inclusiveness, and love for humanity. Shrines like those of Sheikh Noor-ud-din Noorani in Charar-e-Sharif and Mir Syed Ali Hamadani were centres of devotion that united Hindus and Muslims alike. The concept of Kashmiriyat evolved from this Sufi foundation: a hybrid identity blending religious tolerance with cultural pride.
This equilibrium imploded in the late 1980s. The rise of militancy, coupled with influence of foreign religious funding, eroded the Valley’s spiritual moderation. After the Soviet withdrawal from Afghanistan in 1989, Pakistan redirected thousands of trained fighters and a vast jihad infrastructure toward Kashmir. Madrasa networks, fed by Gulf and Pakistani money, started promoting Salafi and Wahhabi doctrines, replacing Sufi teachings. This ideological shift—from devotional mysticism to political Islam—gradually radicalised segments of the Kashmiri youth, experts believe.
The transformation was not immediate. Initially, militant outfits like Hizbul Mujahideen recruited poor, uneducated youth. By the 2000s, an educated class surfaced within militant ranks — doctors, engineers, scholars and students from elite colleges. They were driven not only by anger or disenchantment, but by a profound belief in jihad as religious duty.
Delhi blast
The 2025 Delhi blast, orchestrated by Dr Umar Nabi and his aides Dr Muzammil Ahmad Ganaie and Dr Adeel Majeed Rather, shocked the country not only for its brutality but for the professional pedigree of those involved. These were young men who had excelled academically, had promising careers, and came from stable families. Their turn to violent extremism indicates a more insidious form of radicalisation — rooted in ideology, identity, and online echo chambers and not economic deprivation.
J&K CM Omar Abdullah’s statement that “every resident of Jammu and Kashmir is not a terrorist” resonated far and wide, reflecting the frustration of a society held hostage by a radical fringe. Even Mehbooba Mufti’s anguished remarks sum up the disbelief that doctors could turn into fidayeen bombers. Law enforcement agencies suggest a pattern of indoctrination cultivated through certain informal madrasa networks, online forums, and encrypted communication groups operated by handlers across the border.
Ideological re-engineering
Pakistan’s Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI) played a key role in weaponising religious education during the 1990s. The agency used Gulf funding and the infrastructure developed during the Afghan jihad to reshape Kashmir’s religious landscape. Hundreds of foreign-trained clerics were sent to the Valley, carrying Salafi preaching that delegitimised Sufi practices such as shrine visits, local poetry, and music. Booklets condemning bid‘ah (innovation in religion) and glorifying militant jihad flooded the Valley’s mosques and libraries.
In parallel, Islamist media — pamphlets, cassettes, and later social media platforms — reinforced the idea of a global Muslim victimhood and the obligation of armed struggle. What began as a political insurgency for self-determination slowly acquired an ideological dimension aligned with pan-Islamist goals.
Digital propaganda
Unlike street-level recruitment of the 1990s, contemporary radicalisation thrives online. The decline of traditional militant groups coincided with the digital rise of global jihadist movements. Encrypted platforms such as Telegram, X and Instagram have become hotbeds of curated propaganda material. Videos romanticising martyrdom, images of young men holding rifles in Kashmiri backdrops, and interpretations of Quranic verses with twisted context circulate widely.
The so-called “keyboard jihadi” culture has penetrated elite educational institutions too. Young minds, already grappling with alienation and political cynicism, encounter ideological mentors who defend their frustration with theological justification. For doctors and students trained in rigorous analytical thinking, such narratives offer the illusion of 'a higher purpose and heroism'. The story of Dr Umar Nabi reflects this pattern. Friends recall a quiet, devout student who increasingly withdrew from social circles after attending religious study groups online. Gradually, his worldview hardened into a black-and-white belief system that framed global Muslims suffering as a divine test requiring personal action.
Case studies
A closer look at other cases that sheds light on how radicalisation has evolved into a cognitive and psychological process.
Burhan Wani (2016): Though not from a professional background, Wani’s social media charisma turned militancy into aspirational rebellion among educated youth. His legacy normalised gun culture as symbolic resistance.
Eisa Fazili (2018): An engineering student at Baba Ghulam Shah University, Fazili posted sermons online invoking shahadat (martyrdom). His trajectory mirrors that of many middle-class students drawn to radical thought after consuming online propaganda.
Dr Sabzar Ahmad (2020): A medical intern from Sopore who disappeared after attending religious lectures on the moral duty of jihad, later killed in encounter at the LoC.
Global parallels
The radicalisation of educated individuals is neither new nor confined to Kashmir. Globally, figures like Osama bin Laden (an engineer), Ayman al-Zawahiri (a surgeon), and Islamic State propagandist Anwar al-Awlaki (a theology graduate) depict how ideology can attract the privileged and intellectual. Several academic studies show higher education equips radicals with better organisational and technological skills — making them effective operatives.
Counter-narratives
Experts emphasize that deradicalisation efforts cannot rely solely on security measures. Vikram Singh, former DGP of Uttar Pradesh, argues that “Globally, educated people are getting radicalised and online media has played a major role. We have to deal with it.” Counter measures must address both ideology and psychology. This involves regenerating the narratives of Kashmiriyat and Sufism as living traditions relevant to modern youth.
Professor Akhtarul Wasey adds that inclusivity in governance is essential. “When young Kashmiris see themselves represented in police, civil service, and academia, the sense of alienation diminishes,” he says. Restoring faith in democratic system remains key to reversing the ideological drift.