A boy pedals his bike along the desolated street of old city, which has been epicentre of protests and demonstrations. Credit: Umer Asif/IPS

By Umar Manzoor Shah and Umer Asif
SRINAGAR, Kashmir, Sep 23 2019 (IPS)

It is 50 days into the lockdown in Kashmir since roads were blocked off, schools shut, and internet and communication services stopped.

On Aug. 5, India’s federal government led by Prime Minister Narendra Modi imposed a curfew in the Muslim-majority area after amending the law to revoke the partial autonomy and statehood of Jammu and Kashmir. Restrictions on movement were immediately placed through a curfew as internet and telecommunications were cut.

The government also decreed that people from other Indian states could buy land in the region and become permanent citizens here.

Local Muslims, who form 80 percent of Kashmir’s 8 million people, feared that through such a move, the Indian government was trying to change the demography of the region.

More than 4,000 people, including politicians of opposition groups, human rights activists and separatists have since been detained by the government.  

Though the government claimed that it is making attempts to restore normalcy and open schools, the efforts elicited no positive response from people as parents refuse to send their children to school for fear of violence. In a tweet the YFK-International Kashmir Lobby Group, a non-governmental human rights organisation, stated that the region’s economy had been devastated because of the clampdown.

Tourism in the region has been badly hit ever since the imposition of curfew by the Indian government. Hotels have zero occupancy and tourist resorts are deserted.

49 days of curfew#Jammu & #Kashmir‘s economy in tailspin pic.twitter.com/WdwogaHrRb

— Kashmir Lobby Group (@KashmirLobby) September 22, 2019

The Indian-administered part of Kashmir has experienced increased violence since 1989 when militants stepped up armed resistance here.

Rights groups estimate that 100,000 people have since been killed, but Indian official records put the number at 47,000. 

Kashmiri has seen 50 days of imposed restrictions by the Indian government since it imposed a curfew in the Muslim-majority area after amending the law to revoke the partial autonomy and statehood of Jammu and Kashmir. The area also saw an increased military presence. Credit: Umer Asif/IPS

A boy pedals his bike along the desolated street of old city, which has been epicentre of protests and demonstrations. Credit: Umer Asif/IPS

An Indian paramilitary officer instructs his sub-ordinates about how to implement law and order in Kashmir’s capital Srinagar, as a curfew was imposed in the region. Credit: Umer Asif/IPS

As schools continue to remain shut in the region since Aug. 5, amounting to 50 days tomorrow, kids are being taught in make shift schools, established by local citizens in several areas of Kashmir. Credit: Umer Asif/IPS

A fleet of school busses parked in a garage in Srinagar outskirts as parents are reluctant to send their children to school due to the wave of uncertainty in Kashmir. Credit: Umer Asif/IPS

View of a desolated classroom of one of the schools in Kashmir. Schools, universities, colleges and government offices are all shut in the region. The government’s attempts to reopen schools have failed as parents are reluctant to send their children to school due to the wave of uncertainty. Credit: Umer Asif/IPS

The family of Asrar Ahmad, a 16-year-old boy who was killed during protests in the Illahi Bagh area of Srinagar. Ahmad succumbed to his injuries in hospital a month after being injured during protests. According to the family, Ahmad was hit by pellet guns fired by police, a claim vehemently rejected by the government. Credit: Umer Asif/IPS

A para-military trooper guarding the main door of Kashmir’s largest mosque, Jamia Masjid. No prayers have been allowed inside the mosque since Aug. 5. Credit: Umer Asif/IPS

Army men patrol one of the busiest markets of Srinagar, Kashmir’s capital, known popularly as Lal Chowk. Even as the government eased restrictions, locals continue to observe the strike against scraping of Kashmir’s autonomy. Credit: Umer Asif/IPS

A protester who was shot at with a pellet gun displays the X ray film showing the pellets that penetrated his body. He was protesting against the curfew the Indian government placed on Kashmir. Credit: Umer Asif/IPS

In the aftermath of protests. A road in Kashmir’s Anchaar area in the capital Srinagar. It’s the scene of pitched battles youth have had with the police on Aug. 5. Credit: Umer Asif/IPS

The Indian government put an end to large scale protests by revoking the autonomy of Indian-administered Kashmir – a status provided for under the Indian Constitution. Thousands of troops were deployed and the valley region faced unprecedented lockdown. Credit: Umer Asif/IPS

Amid the communication gag which includes an internet blockade, Kashmir’s journalistic fraternity were provided with a limited internet facility at a basement of a private hotel in Srinagar. It is from this place that IPS correspondents were able to file their reports and use the internet. Credit: Umer Asif/IPS

Shikaras — special boats used to take tourists to explore Kashmir’s mesmerising lakes — parked near on the bank of the world-famous Dal Lake. Tourism in the region has been badly hit ever since the imposition of curfew by the Indian government. Hotels have zero occupancy and tourist resorts too are deserted. Credit: Umer Asif/IPS

Banner in the village of Fidae (near Byblos) which reads: "The municipality of Al Fidae announces that there is a curfew for all foreigners inside the village every day from 8 pm to 5.30 am". Credit: Oriol Andrés Gallart/IPS

By Oriol Andrés Gallart
BEIRUT, Nov 21 2014 (IPS)

Staring at the floor, Hassan, a 21-year-old Syrian refugee from Idlib in northwestern Syria, holds a set of identification papers in his hands. He picks out a small pink piece of paper with a few words on it stating that he must obtain a work contract, otherwise his residency visa will not be renewed.

Hassan (not his real name) has been given two months to find an employer willing to cough up for a work permit, something extremely unlikely to happen. After that, his presence in Lebanon will be deemed illegal.

Hassan, who fled Syria almost three years ago to avoid military service, tells IPS that all that awaits him if he returns are jail, the army or death, so he has decided that living in Lebanon illegally after his visa expires is his best bet.Hassan, who fled Syria almost three years ago to avoid military service … [says that] all that awaits him if he returns are jail, the army or death, so he has decided that living in Lebanon illegally after his visa expires is his best bet.

Sitting next to Hassan is 24-year-old Ahmed (not his real name) from Deir Ezzor in eastern Syria, who lost his residency one month ago. Since then he has been forced to watch his movements. “I live with permanent fear of being caught by the police and deported,” he says.

Since the start of Syria’s civil war in March 2011, over 1.2 million Syrians have sought refuge in Lebanon, where they now account for almost one-third of the Lebanese population.

Particularly since May, the Lebanese government has increasingly introduced measures to limit the influx of Syrian refugees into the country. Speaking after a cabinet meeting on Oct. 23, Information Minister Ramzi Jreij announced that the government had reached a decision “to stop welcoming displaced persons, barring exceptional cases, and to ask the U.N. refugee agency [UNHCR] to stop registering the displaced.”

Dalia Aranki, Information, Counselling and Legal Assistance Advisor at the Norwegian Refugee Council (NRC), told IPS that Lebanon “is not a signatory to the 1951 Refugee Convention” and, as a result, “is not obliged to meet all obligations resulting from the Convention.”

“Being registered with UNHCR in Lebanon can provide some legal protection and is important for access to services,” she wrote together with Olivia Kalis in a recent article published by Forced Migration Review. “But it does not grant refugees the right to seek asylum, have legal stay or refugee status. This leaves refugees in a challenging situation.”

Current legal restrictions affect the admission of newcomers, renewal of residency visas and the regularisation of visa applications for those who have entered the country through unofficial border crossings.

One aid worker who is providing assistance to Syrian refugees in Mount Lebanon told IPS that the majority of the Syrian beneficiaries they are working with no longer have a legal residency visa.

Aranki notes that fear of being arrested often forces those without legal residency papers to limit their movements and also their ability to access various services, to obtain a lease contract or find employment is severely limited. It could also impede birth registration for refugees -with the consequent risk of statelessness, or force family separations on the border.

Before May this year, Syrians could usually enter Lebanon as “tourists” and obtain a residency visa for six months (renewable every six months for up to three years), although this process cost 200 dollars a year, which already was financially prohibitive for many refugee families.

However, NRC has noted that under new regulations Syrians are only permitted to enter Lebanon in exceptional or humanitarian cases such as for medical reasons, or if the applicant has an onward flight booked out of the country, an appointment at an embassy, a valid work permit, or is deemed a “wealthy” tourist. Since summer 2013, restrictions for Palestinian refugees from Syria have become even more severe.

Under its new policy, the Lebanese government also intends to participate in the registration of new refugees together with the UNHCR. Khalil Gebara, an advisor to Minister of Interior Nohad Machnouk, says that the government has taken these measures for two reasons.

“First, because the government decided that it needs to have a joint sovereign decision over the issue of how to treat the Syrian crisis. (…) Previously, it was UNHCR to decide who was deemed a refugee and who was not, the Lebanese government was not involved in this process.”

Secondly “because government believes that there are a lot of Syrians registered who are abusing the system. A lot of them are economic migrants living in Lebanon and they are registered with the United Nations. The government wants to specify who really deserves to be a refugee and who does not”.

Ron Redmond, a UNHCR spokesperson, said that the U.N. agency has “for a long time” encouraged the Lebanese government to assume a role in the registration of new refugees and affirms that registration is going on.

“There is concern about the protection of refugees but there is also understanding on UNHCR’s part,” said Redmond. “Lebanon has legitimate security, demographic and social concerns.”

Meanwhile, accompanying the increasing fear of deportation from Lebanon, Syrian refugees have also been forced to deal with routine forms of discrimination.

Over 45 municipalities across Lebanon have imposed curfews restricting the movement of Syrians during night-time hours, measures which, according to Human Rights Watch’s Middle East Director Nadim Houry, contravene “international human rights law and appear to be illegal under Lebanese law.”

Attacks targeting unarmed Syrians – particularly since clashes between the Lebanese army and gunmen affiliated with Jabhat al-Nusra and the Islamic State in Arsal in August – have  also occurred.

Given such realities, life in Lebanon for Hassan, Ahmed and many other Syrian refugees, is becoming a new exile, stuck between a rock and a hard place.

(Edited by Phil Harris)