A New Low in Kashmir: Borrowed Bravado, Hollow Entertainment, and the Politics of Manufactured Aggression
By: Javid Amin | 28 January 2026
When Noise Replaces Thought in Kashmir
Kashmir has always been a land of layered complexity. Its politics, its pain, its resistance, and its resilience have historically carried depth—often expressed through poetry, debate, philosophy, and lived sacrifice rather than spectacle. Yet today, a disturbing shift is unfolding in the Valley’s public sphere.
Public discourse is increasingly being reduced to noise. Loud voices, exaggerated posturing, and theatrical aggression are replacing reasoned argument and ethical disagreement. Self-styled ” ……Sheri Babar”, “………tiger,” “………. scorpio,” and other hyper-masculine caricatures now dominate social media feeds, television debates, and political side-shows. They roar loudly, sting sharply, and disappear just as quickly—leaving behind neither ideas nor solutions.
This is not an organic cultural evolution. It is a manufactured one.
What we are witnessing is the deliberate conversion of political engagement into entertainment, where aggression is outsourced, insults are monetized, and opposition voices are degraded through drama rather than challenged through ideas. In this transformation, Kashmir’s real struggles are pushed to the margins while hollow bravado takes center stage.
This article examines how and why this shift has occurred, who benefits from it, what it costs Kashmiri society, and why reclaiming dignity through substance—not spectacle—has become an urgent necessity.
The Rise of the Performative Strongman
From Leadership to Loudness
Across Kashmir’s recent media landscape, a specific archetype has emerged: the performative strongman. He speaks in absolutes, gestures aggressively, uses animal metaphors to project fearlessness, and substitutes volume for validity.
These figures are not known for intellectual contribution, grassroots work, or policy engagement. Their relevance comes from their ability to provoke reactions—anger, outrage, applause, or viral traction.
This is not accidental. Modern political ecosystems reward visibility over credibility. Algorithms amplify extremes, not nuance. Television debates prioritize confrontation over clarity. Social media platforms incentivize outrage because outrage travels faster than reason.
In this environment, the loudest voice often appears strongest—even when it is hollow.
Borrowed Masculinity, Borrowed Language
A striking feature of these personalities is their lack of originality. Their language, gestures, and rhetorical style are often copied wholesale from mainland political theatrics or global culture-war templates. The aggression feels imported, not indigenous.
Kashmir has its own vocabulary of resistance and dissent—rooted in lived experience, cultural memory, and moral argument. The new bravado, by contrast, feels like cosplay: borrowed masculinity worn like a costume, stripped of context and substance.
This borrowed identity does not empower Kashmir. It erases its intellectual heritage.
Manufactured Clones, Not Organic Voices
How Political Cloning Works
These loud figures do not emerge naturally from public trust or long-term engagement. They are manufactured—often promoted rapidly, amplified disproportionately, and shielded from accountability.
They appear suddenly.
They speak in identical tones.
They attack the same targets.
They disappear when scrutiny intensifies.
This pattern strongly suggests orchestration rather than spontaneity.
While dissenting voices are frequently scrutinized, questioned, or silenced, these aggressive performers are often given free rein—suggesting they serve a function rather than pose a threat.
A Disposable Army of Noise
These clones are not meant to last. They are disposable instruments in a broader strategy. Once their utility fades or their excesses become inconvenient, they are quietly replaced by newer, louder versions.
The goal is not leadership development.
The goal is narrative control through chaos.
Aggression for Hire: Degrading the Opposition
From Debate to Degradation
One of the most damaging consequences of this trend is the systematic degradation of opposition leaders and critical voices. Rather than engaging with their arguments, these hired aggressors resort to mockery, personal attacks, and theatrical humiliation.
This is not spontaneous hostility. It is often targeted, timed, and repetitive.
The message is clear: opposition is not to be debated—it is to be ridiculed into irrelevance.
Plausible Deniability and Dirty Work
By deploying unofficial loudmouths, power structures maintain plausible deniability. When discourse turns toxic, responsibility is diffused.
“We didn’t say it.”
“They are independent voices.”
“Freedom of expression.”
Yet the pattern of attacks, the selective targeting, and the consistent messaging reveal a deeper coordination.
This outsourcing of hostility allows institutions to appear civil while benefiting from the intimidation carried out by proxies.
Politics as Entertainment: The Circus Effect
When Governance Becomes a Show
The transformation of politics into entertainment is not unique to Kashmir, but its impact here is particularly severe. In a region grappling with unresolved trauma, economic uncertainty, and democratic contraction, spectacle becomes a powerful distraction.
Instead of discussing:
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Employment crises
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Youth alienation
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Land and identity concerns
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Civil liberties
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Mental health and social healing
Public attention is diverted to viral insults, shouting matches, and symbolic outrage.
This is the circus effect—where noise replaces narrative and performance replaces policy.
The Audience Becomes the Victim
Entertainment politics turns citizens into spectators. Spectators react emotionally but disengage intellectually. Over time, exhaustion replaces outrage, and apathy replaces participation.
This serves power perfectly.
A distracted public does not ask difficult questions.
The Psychological Cost to Kashmiri Society
Normalizing Hostility
When aggression is normalized as political expression, it reshapes social behavior. Young people learn that shouting is strength, humiliation is victory, and empathy is weakness.
This has long-term consequences:
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Public debate becomes unsafe
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Intellectual dissent becomes risky
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Silence becomes survival
Erosion of Collective Self-Respect
Perhaps the greatest loss is dignity. Kashmir’s identity has historically been tied to intellect, culture, and moral seriousness. Reducing public life to loud theatrics diminishes collective self-respect.
A society that laughs at its own degradation is already wounded.
What Gets Lost: Kashmir’s Real Struggles
The Disappearing Issues
While the cameras focus on roaring performers, real crises unfold quietly:
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Graduates struggle for dignified employment
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Families navigate uncertainty without political representation
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Civic spaces shrink
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Fear replaces participation
These are not abstract concerns. They define everyday life in the Valley.
Yet they rarely trend.
Distraction as Strategy
Distraction is not a side-effect—it is the strategy. Manufactured outrage ensures that governance failures remain unexamined and accountability remains blurred.
Why This Moment Is a New Low
Kashmir has endured violence, suppression, and political betrayal—but even in its darkest chapters, there remained a seriousness of purpose. Today’s spectacle marks a new low because it trivializes struggle itself.
It turns pain into content.
Resistance into performance.
Politics into parody.
This is not merely offensive—it is dangerous.
Reclaiming Dignity: Substance Over Spectacle
Rejecting the Roar
Dignity begins with refusal. Refusing to amplify noise. Refusing to confuse aggression with courage. Refusing to reward humiliation as politics.
Kashmir does not need louder voices.
It needs clearer ones.
Reviving a Culture of Reason
True strength lies in:
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Thoughtful disagreement
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Ethical opposition
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Courage rooted in conviction, not volume
The Valley’s future depends not on who shouts the loudest, but on who thinks the deepest.
Conclusion: Kashmir Deserves Better
The self-styled “tigers” and “scorpios” will eventually fade. Manufactured aggression always does. What remains is the damage—to discourse, to dignity, to democratic culture.
Kashmir stands at a crossroads. It can continue consuming hollow entertainment, or it can reclaim its tradition of reasoned resistance and moral seriousness.
The choice is collective.
Because when the spectacle ends and the noise dies down, only ideas remain. And Kashmir’s future will be shaped not by borrowed bravado—but by the courage to think, speak, and act with substance.
