9478 words in this article
Estimated reading time: 25 minutes
Author | Tariq Mir
Editor | He Jiawei
Reviewer | Shan Minmin
Preface
Decades of demands have been denied, and Modi's new policy, the "Settler Program," targets Kashmir. The outline of Modi's plan to transform Kashmir has begun to emerge. Under the slogans of "development" and "transforming the region into an industrialized area," the Indian government has sold land to Indian capitalists. Sajjan Jindal, the head of the Indian business group JSW Group, who was a staunch supporter of abolishing Article 370, is one of them: after all restrictions were lifted, he immediately purchased a nine-acre plot in Pulwama to build a steel plant. In recent years, over 1,800 companies have received land allocations, and the government reports that it has received $10 billion in investment proposals. As expected, many Kashmiris see this so-called "development"—a strange mix of occupation politics and neoliberalism—as merely a pretext to divide the Muslim majority population in the region. Armed guerrilla groups have attacked civilians, causing about 130 deaths in recent years. Many of the victims are migrant workers from other Indian states, whom the rebel organizations view as "settlers." The South Asian Research Newsletter reprints this article for the reference of its readers.
Image source: WeChat official account "Ri Xin Shuo Copernicium"
Last December, on a cold night, a man I call Bilal Ahmed lay in bed, surrounded by silence within the two-story apple orchard. He had no particular worries, yet in the village of Kader in the Kulgam district of Kashmir, a peaceful night's rest itself was a luxury. The villagers have lived off orchard labor for generations, but they have always lived in fear of Indian military raids. In their community, soldiers conduct "search and block" operations almost daily, ostensibly to find and eliminate guerrilla fighters hiding in the area. When the army believes it has found its target, it often fires heavily at the houses first, then demolishes them with explosives - a sinister intention to deter other Kashmiris from harboring militants.
However, this tough counter-insurgency strategy has not yielded significant results: the resistance force remains strong. The Indian army has not been shaken by the perseverance of the Kashmiri people, and it is equally determined to crush any challenge. Earlier in December, a large force composed of the army, paramilitary forces, and police surrounded Bilal's village, setting up defenses behind machine gun turrets. After midnight, a loud explosion shattered the silence, and the icy wooden glass windows rattled with the sound. Inside the dark red brick house, the residents huddled in the cold. Gunfire tore through the night, and Bilal leapt from his bed, rushing into the next room to pick up his young daughter who was sleeping with her grandparents. The child suffers from anxiety, and Bilal had intended to comfort her, but that was the least of his concerns that night. He quickly moved his entire family - his wife, three children, and elderly parents - to a room on the ground floor, so that the high concrete walls could shield them from bullets.
One, India's increased pressure has failed to shake the Kashmiris' determination to support the rebels.
During the 35-year-long resistance against Indian rule in Kashmir, the Indian army has opened fire on civilians multiple times. Those who survived had to endure the psychological trauma of living alongside 700,000 enemy troops stationed in the disputed territory. Bilal's family survived that night, but others were not so lucky. Bashir Ahmad Malla, a school teacher and father of three, died of a heart attack during the raid. This healthy man woke up at 3 a.m., went to the bathroom, and returned to bed, never to wake up again. Such casualties have not been included in the official conflict statistics in the long history of suffering in Kashmir. Since the anti-Indian rebellion began in 1989, nearly 70,000 people have died, including civilians, rebel fighters, and Indian military personnel. Most of the deaths were caused by the Indian army.
After the gunfire in Kader subsided, social media spread rumors that the Indian army had killed five members of the "Mujahideen Movement." This organization is the oldest armed group in the Kashmir Valley, founded in 1989 and supported by Pakistan, aiming to weaken the Indian army's control over Kashmir. At a press conference held after the battle, Indian officials announced that the Kupwara and nearby Shopian areas had cleared the rebels. They claimed that these guerrillas had lost the ability to launch attacks in the short term.
I have attended at least a dozen hastily arranged press conferences at the scene of gunfights. About 17 years ago, as the head of the Kashmir bureau of India's most renowned English television news group, "Times Now," I reported on a battle from a town called Yaripora a few miles northeast of Kader. For three days, my crew and I, with a satellite truck, described how Kashmiri armed fighters, equipped far worse than the enemy, were finally defeated after 70 hours of fierce fighting under bomb and machine gun fire. At that time, the highest security official in charge of the military operation boasted that the armed struggle against India in this area had come to an end.
However, this boast proved to be short-lived. Within five years, a new generation of young people took up arms again, opening another bloody chapter of this tragedy. Just last month, the rebels launched the deadliest attack so far, killing more than two dozen Indian tourists in the resort town of Pahalgam.
Yet, even facing decades of fierce resistance, India still refuses to acknowledge the Kashmiris' demand for self-determination. Instead, it firmly believes that as long as enough military force is used, it can ultimately consolidate power and suppress the unstable population. In recent years, the Modi government has adopted a new strategy to suppress Kashmir: implementing a settlement program in the region, trying to change its Muslim-majority demographic structure.
On the highland orchards, a large military camp overlooks Kader. This camp was established over thirty years ago, older than the age of many villagers in the area. Everyone fears passing by there: the movement of people along the road where the camp is located, as well as the passages made of barbed wire and surveillance cameras, are strictly controlled by the Indian army. Last month, I decided to investigate with a journalist friend. Traveling along the narrow winding road connecting Kader to the village of Bishibag two miles away felt like crossing the border between two hostile countries.
Not far from the entrance of the camp, a soldier with an automatic rifle stopped us. "Where are you going?" he asked my colleague roughly. "Where are you going?"
"Bishibag," my colleague replied.
The soldier glanced at his ID: a journalist. He looked at me. "Who is he?" he wanted to know.
"A friend."
The soldier ordered us not to answer or make calls, rolled up the car windows, and drove slowly, almost coming to a stop. We did as instructed. I looked to the left and saw a statue on a pedestal: the monument of Umar Fayaz, a Lieutenant in the Indian Army from Kupwara, who was kidnapped, beaten, and shot dead at his wedding in 2017. In the eyes of the insurgents, Fayaz joining the enemy to fight against his own people was a heinous crime. Less than a year later, the Indian army retaliated, killing the insurgent responsible for Fayaz's death. Ten months later, the insurgents retaliated again, killing a policeman named Aman Takur just a mile away from there. Since then, both sides have continued to shed blood, with casualties among both the insurgents and Indian security personnel. The cycle of death continues.
Later that day, when we returned along the road lined with apple trees to Kader, we again followed the rules, ensuring we returned before 5 p.m., because the guards would close the gate then. Afterward, the villagers on both sides had to take a detour, which took twice as long. Their lives were in the hands of the soldiers, and their lifestyle and atmosphere were dictated by the muzzle of guns.
Two, Behind the suppression of dissent lies the settlement colonial project that has been entrenched in the Kashmir Valley for over six months.
Although the conflict has a long history, the oppression of the Kashmiri people today is unprecedented. In recent years, the Modi government has escalated political repression to what experts call "nearly authoritarian" levels. Authorities have arrested leaders and activists of the "Azadi" (Freedom) movement in Kashmir, as well as lawyers, journalists, businessmen, students, religious figures, and human rights activists, many of whom have been charged with terrorism. Hundreds of young men have been tortured in military camps. Leaked videos show soldiers beating the bare buttocks of young men with sticks. In 2019, 15-year-old Awaal Ahmad Butt committed suicide by ingesting poison in Poonch, southern Kashmir, after being abused while detained by the army.
Since then, the Indian government has ignored the condemnation of international human rights institutions and become increasingly brazen. In November last year, the families of five men in the Kishtwar area accused the Indian army of capturing them during a nighttime raid and subjecting them to brutal torture. In recent years, as violent attacks by insurgents in the arid plains of the Kashmir border have intensified, dozens of Indian soldiers have been killed in ambushes on forest slopes. In response, the Indian authorities have started targeting civilians suspected of colluding with armed militants. The suppression has not prevented many Kashmiris from supporting the insurgents' goal of liberating the region from Indian occupation, even if they can only express their dissent in silence: political activities through protests, social media, hotel lobbies, and street corners have been effectively curbed since 2019.
In early August 2019, Kashmir fell into chaos. Led by Prime Minister Narendra Modi's Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), the Indian government ordered over 1 million migrant workers, tourists, and Hindu pilgrims to return to India. Subsequently, more troops were sent to the region, forming a siege with the 700,000 troops already stationed in the disputed territory. Although the reason for the troop increase was unknown, Kashmiri residents stockpiled food, medicine, and automobile fuel. The chaos of the day turned into unease as night fell. Tens of thousands of fully armed security forces poured out of Indian military bases, forcefully entering homes across the region. They arrested political leaders, independence activists (including men and women), and anyone considered likely to incite rebellion. Thousands of Kashmiris were transferred to prisons in India, hundreds of miles away from their hometowns.
On the morning of August 5, 2019, the Indian government announced a security lockdown, restricting over 10 million people to their homes. Internet and telephone services were cut off, and we could not know our situation. The streets were silent, and the occasional sound of soldiers' boots was heard. I felt extremely anxious, helpless, and angry. My aging parents lived more than thirty miles away from me. Would they have the opportunity to buy enough essential medicines? We couldn't know.
We turned to Indian television news. Normally, we tried not to watch it - its coverage of Kashmir was rarely fair and balanced, simply repeating government policies, describing any resistance actions by Kashmiris as terrorist acts that deserved punishment - but this time we needed information. We learned that the Indian Parliament's lower house (Lok Sabha) convened in New Delhi, and the members passed the government's resolution on the abolition of Article 370 of the Constitution. This provision, since 1949, had granted Kashmiri legislators the power to enact laws protecting the region's land, employment, and culture.
For years, the Hindu nationalist government has planned how to severely crack down on the resistance in Kashmir. Now, they found the answer: revoking Kashmir's semi-autonomous status. Provisions such as Article 370 prohibited non-Kashmiris from buying local land, thus protecting the territorial integrity of Kashmir.
However, after abolishing this provision, the Modi government enacted laws allowing Indian citizens to vote, apply for jobs, and buy land in the region. For Kashmiris, the legal protection of land and cultural rights was completely overturned, which could only be seen as a step towards achieving the long-standing Hindu nationalist dream of making Kashmir a state with a Hindu majority.
Their concerns have proven to be correct. After the resolution was passed, the Modi government began preparing for the final plan to deprive Kashmir of its land. In January 2023, the government launched a campaign to seize state-owned land in the region, using the term "invaders" to cover the real nature of the action: expelling thousands of Kashmiris and their farmland that they had cultivated for generations. Indigenous nomadic people were expelled from the forests where they had lived for generations, and their houses and commercial facilities were destroyed. The government claimed that more than 42,000 hectares of land were seized. In 2024, the French human rights organization "International Federation for Human Rights" stated in a report that the Indian government had forcibly expropriated land in Kashmir equivalent in size to Hong Kong. The report pointed out that the new law allowed "the Indian authorities to forcibly evict and deprive thousands of Kashmiris and their homes without due process, violating India's international human rights obligations."
Gradually, the outline of Modi's plan to transform Kashmir has begun to emerge. Under the slogan of "development" and "transforming the region into an industrialized area," the Indian government has sold land to Indian capitalists. Sajjan Jindal, the boss of the Indian business group JSW Group, who was a firm supporter of abolishing Article 370, is one of them: after all restrictions were lifted, he immediately purchased a nine-acre plot in Pulwama to build a steel plant. In recent years, over 1,800 companies have received land allocations, and the government reports that it has received $1 billion in investment proposals.
As expected, many Kashmiris see this so-called "development"—this strange mix of occupation politics and neoliberalism—as merely a pretext to divide the Muslim majority population in the region. Armed guerrilla groups have attacked civilians, causing about 130 deaths in recent years. Many of the victims are migrant workers from other Indian states, whom the rebel organizations view as "settlers."
Three, Hostility Intensifies: The Shadow of Pakistan and Bloodstains in Kashmir
Every time the Indian army and civilians are attacked by rebels in Kashmir, the Indian government blames a single culprit: Pakistan. India accuses Pakistan of supporting rebels in conducting a "proxy war" against the neighboring country by providing training and weapons. Pakistan naturally denies this accusation, stating that it only provides moral, political, and diplomatic support to the Kashmiri liberation movement. The truth may lie somewhere between the two. It is well known that for the past three decades, officers from Pakistan's intelligence agency, the Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI), have been sending armed militants across the border to assist Kashmiri rebels. Pakistan has always believed that Kashmir, as a Muslim-majority area, should have become part of Pakistan in 1947 during the partition of India and Pakistan. After abolishing Article 370, the ISI began to supplement the rebel ranks with more aggressive and experienced fighters.
Pakistan still clings to the dream of liberating Kashmir from its archenemy. In four days in October 2024, militants attacked infrastructure project workers and a military convoy, killing 12 people, including 3 soldiers. In the Ganderbal area about 42 miles northeast of Srinagar, at least two militants opened fire on a construction site camp, killing 6 Indians and 1 Kashmiri doctor. These workers were employed by an Indian construction company, excavating a tunnel through the treacherous snow-covered terrain of the Himalayas to build a highway. India hopes this road will provide its military with year-round access to the Chinese border, located at the easternmost end of Kashmir.
A few days later, a guerrilla group ambushed a convoy leaving a large Indian military base in Gulmarg, about 30 miles west of Srinagar, near the heavily guarded Pakistani border, and then disappeared into the pine forest - this attack clearly showed the influence of Pakistan. The attack resulted in the deaths of 3 soldiers and 2 civilian laborers.
These two attacks caught the Indian security agencies off guard. For years, these remote areas have not seen major insurgent activities. However, the increasing intensity of the guerrilla attacks, along with the support they have gained locally, has made it difficult for the security lines to gain the upper hand.
In the early morning of November 2024, the residents of the old city of Srinagar in Kashmir were awakened by gunfire, echoing in the narrow alleys. A senior Pakistani guerrilla commander was accurately located in a civilian house. Cornered and with no escape, the commander chose to hold out. During the intense firefight, four Indian soldiers were injured, and security personnel spent a full day regaining control of the area.
However, soon after, gunshots rang out again in other parts of the Kashmir Valley. In Anantnag, about 35 miles south of Kaniar, another gunfight broke out, resulting in the deaths of two rebels (one a local, the other from Pakistan). In Bandipora, in northern Kashmir, rebels fired at Indian soldiers before retreating into the forest, their gunshots clearly indicating their intent: to prevent Indian settlers from entering.
Four, New Legal Provisions: Transforming Kashmir into a Hindu Majority State
The new law allowing Indian citizens to vote, apply for jobs, and buy land in Kashmir can only be seen as a step toward transforming the region into a Hindu-majority state.
The illusion of peace was broken again in late April in the remote southern region of Kashmir, the mountain meadows of Pahalgam. Hundreds of Indian tourists were enjoying the magnificent views of towering peaks and the cool breeze blowing from the snowy ridges when three men with automatic rifles emerged from a dense pine forest above them. These men approached the unsuspecting couples (some with children) and mixed groups of men and women. They asked the victims to state their names, then separated the males from the others, shooting 26 people and seriously injuring many, all in front of terrified children and women.
Notably, the attackers asked the victims' names before shooting to ensure that the victims were Hindus rather than Muslims. (The only Muslim victim was a Kashmiri rider who was shot while fighting a gunman.) These cold-blooded murders shocked many in Kashmir: in the bloody history of 35 years of armed resistance against Indian rule, such a large-scale massacre of tourists had never occurred. Yet, India's attempts to control the region have never been so blatant.
Several hours after the shooting, a rebel group called the "Resistance Front" (TRF) issued a statement on its Telegram channel claiming responsibility for the massacre. However, a few days later, TRF withdrew the statement, blaming "cyber intrusion" for the unauthorized release of the message. The rebels accused Indian "cyber intelligence personnel" of hacking into their social media platforms to discredit the Kashmiri resistance movement.
The Modi government insisted that Pakistan and its supported Kashmiri rebel organizations were responsible for the massacre. Pakistan denied involvement and demanded evidence from India to prove its involvement - then, in the absence of evidence, accused India of fabricating the massacre to tarnish Pakistan during the visit of U.S. Vice President JD Vance to India.
Extensive searches conducted by the Indian army in the steep slopes of the Himalayan forests yielded no results. However, many Kashmiris viewed the new round of repression in the Kashmir Valley - and the resulting new round of suffering - as collective retaliation: dozens of houses were demolished; over 1,500 youths were detained, one of whom, according to his family, died in detention; dozens of Pakistani women married to Kashmiri men, some of whom had been married for over 40 years, were being deported back to their home country, and were not allowed to bring their children and husbands with them.
Two weeks after the Pahalgam massacre, the Modi government ordered missile and drone strikes on Pakistan, claiming to have targeted "terrorist camps" inside the country and killed "over 100 terrorists," further escalating the hostility between the two countries.
The Pakistani military denied India's allegations: they said the missile strikes targeted civilians - including children - and mosques, not terrorists. The Pakistani Air Force stated that it had shot down five Indian aircraft in air combat. India initially did not confirm or deny the loss of aircraft, although many aircraft wreckage was found in Kashmir and Punjab (on May 31, India finally admitted the loss of aircraft).
Pakistan did not stop there. The country subsequently launched missile and drone attacks on multiple Indian military targets. Thanks to the mediation of the United States, the situation of a full-scale nuclear war between the two nuclear powers was avoided. However, despite the temporary ceasefire, the possibility of the crisis escalating into war remained.
Five, Fear and Hatred Under the Name of "Development"
Several months before the Pahalgam incident, on a cold January day, Modi appeared unusually calm in Gandarbal. The president's visit was to preside over an infrastructure project aimed at improving road connections, which was launched just three months after a deadly incident in the nearby tunnel excavation site where six construction workers were killed. However, in his speech, Modi hardly mentioned the rebel attacks. He did not mention the other shadow looming over his entire Kashmir development plan: the bloody clashes between the two countries' armies on the desolate plateau of Ladakh...
In Gandarbal, Modi's remarks reinforced his country's efforts to deepen military control through the construction of an extensive infrastructure network. "The world's highest tunnel is being built here," he said, adding that Kashmir now also has the "highest railway bridge," and people "are satisfied with development projects." However, despite his efforts to benefit the people of Kashmir, what he has caused is fear and hatred.
That same month, on a clear morning, I drove to Bijbehara, 28 miles south of Srinagar, along a four-lane highway that winds through rice fields, saffron fields, orchards, forests, mountains, and streams, connecting Kashmir to India. That winter day was unusually bright; in the distance, sunlight shimmered on the snow-capped peaks of the Himalayas. However, this clear weather did not improve the mood of the 150 households in Dherham village in Bijbehara. The village had been under the shadow of impending disaster for months.
Last year, the roar of a drone flying over the village disrupted the quiet community of wide glass windows and sloped iron-roofed houses. A team of financial officials was surveying the orchards and plowed rice fields to prepare for building a railway near a wildlife reserve and a melting snow stream. The farmers of Dherham were notified: their farmland would be requisitioned for a large development project - a railway line 48 miles long leading to Pahalgam. The resort town had recently experienced a rebel attack on tourists. The local residents had never urgently requested the construction of a railway between the two places. Therefore, the villagers could not help but question: why build this railway?
Ghulam Mohammad Bhat, a serious 70-year-old man, owns two acres of land where he grows apples and rice, selling the crops to feed his family of seven. (Whenever the harvest is low and affected by disease, Bhat borrows money from the bank, but he always ensures it is repaid on time.) For years, Bhat's family has sustained itself through orchards and rice fields, but with the land requisition for the railway project, the family faces an uncertain future. "We will not let them build this railway line," Bhat said firmly. He told me that the farmers would risk their lives to defend their land: most of them, including Bhat, have no other sources of income.
Bhat's neighbor Abdul Rashid stopped his cart loaded with cow dung and joined our conversation by the roadside. This father of four, an art graduate who gave up his teaching job to become a full-time farmer, would have to give up at least half an acre of land if the railway construction succeeded.
18 miles away, the residents of Shopian were anxiously waiting for another railway line extending from Poonch to their town. Surveys have been completed, and the land has been designated, and the farmers have received notice. The railway will pass through apple, pear, and almond orchards, destroying large areas of land producing the highest quality fruits in Kashmir. For the thousands of families living along the two routes, including those in Dherham, Shopian, and surrounding areas, the railway is nothing more than a retaliatory measure taken by the Hindu nationalist government to deprive them of their livelihoods, destroy the local economy, and push the entire region into poverty.
The requisition of farmland in Dherham and Shopian is just a fragment of the ongoing attack on Kashmiri land over the years. Under the guise of building highways, railways, and towns, the Modi government has requisitioned thousands of hectares of land. According to data from the Ministry of Environment, Forests and Climate Change in New Delhi, over 576 hectares of forest land were allocated for "infrastructure and commercial projects" between 2021 and 2024.
Six, Suppression of Dissent and Identity Threats: The Cycle of Suffering of the Kashmiris
Since 2019, almost the entire leadership of the resistance movement has been imprisoned, and political dissent has been criminalized to the extent that even expressions supporting the resistance against India can lead to imprisonment or harsher penalties. Therefore, the task of opposing voices has fallen to pro-India Kashmiri political organizations - ironically, these organizations have long provided political cover for the Indian deepening of military control. One new dissenter is Agha Ruhullah Mehdi, a member of parliament from the National Conference (NC) party, representing the Srinagar constituency. Although he firmly believes that Kashmir should not separate from India, he thinks the region should restore its semi-autonomous status that was abolished under Article 370.
As a fierce critic of Modi's Kashmir policy, Mehdi recently angered many Hindu nationalist supporters with his comments about the large influx of Indian tourists into Kashmir. He called the nearly 3 million tourists who entered the region in 2024 a "purposeful, planned cultural invasion." In March of this year, Mehdi delivered a speech in the Lok Sabha, condemning the Modi government for "forcibly" constructing a railway line in Kashmir. He claimed that this land was being "taken away" under the guise of building towns, and the Kashmiris had never requested it. "This will destroy orchards and land," he said, "horticulture is an important source of income for us, as well as a part of our identity and heritage. We do not want our orchards to disappear."
At the same time, the Kashmiris feel that their Muslim identity is facing an increasing threat. This feeling becomes more intense during the Eid al-Fitr (the festival marking the end of Ramadan). Traditionally, Kashmiri Muslims hold Eid prayers on a vast grassy field in Srinagar. However, on March 31, the Indian government, fearing that this occasion might be used to incite mass anti-Indian demonstrations, banned believers from gathering at the Eid square. Mirwaiz Umar Farooq, the chief Muslim leader of Kashmir, released a video on X platform condemning the government's measures to restrict religious freedom. "Preventing Kashmiri Muslims from gathering together is an infringement of our rights," Farooq said.
The despair and fear I saw in the voices and faces of those people lingered in my mind for several days after I left.
Meanwhile, the residents of Kader village continue to suffer from the cycle of suffering. The mottled walls, broken trees, and fearful faces of the villagers bear the scars of violence. In January this year, I accompanied an old colleague through knee-deep snow to the orchard where the fighters had last resisted in December. White gauze strips stained with soil covered the damaged branches, as if bandaging the wounds. But the village has not healed. Despite its wealth, it is unable to enjoy these resources. After I left, the despair and fear in the voices and faces of those people lingered in my mind for several days. Children, youth, adults, and the elderly - seemingly no one is spared. The pharmacist in the town told me that prescriptions for mental illnesses, especially for anxiety and schizophrenia, have surged. Doctors even prescribe these medications to patients with gastrointestinal and orthopedic diseases: they believe that anxiety is the root cause.
No wonder, the suppression of political dissent has triggered violent resistance from the guerrilla fighters. While the Kashmir region was celebrating Eid, the Indian army and rebels engaged in a gunfight in a forest in the Jammu province of Katua. Four police officers and two armed fighters were killed, and the gunfight lasted for several hours before gradually subsiding.
Last February, the residents of Kader were subjected to a nighttime raid again. Nearly 500 young men were taken away by government forces for "interrogation," a euphemism for torture. The scale of the raid shocked even pro-Indian Kashmiri politicians, who called it "collective punishment." A few days earlier, rebels killed a former soldier in Bishibag and wounded his wife and niece. They accused the soldier, Manzoor Ahmad Wagay, of engaging in "anti-resistance activities" - in other words, he collaborated with the government army against the rebels and was suspected of being related to the death of five rebels in the Kader area in December of the previous year.
About the Author: Tariq Mir, a former researcher at the Pulitzer Center for Crisis Reporting's "Persephone Mir" program, currently reports from Kashmir. He graduated from the Columbia University School of Journalism.
This article is reprinted from the WeChat official account "Ri Xin Shuo Copernicium" on June 26, 2025, titled "The Good Student of Israel: Exposing the Colonial Atrocities of India's Settler Policy in Kashmir."
Original: https://www.toutiao.com/article/7556633473335804455/
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