The almost romantically maudlin epilogue to the judgment written by Justice Sanjay Kaul brings the humanity of the Court into sharp relief. It will carry deep resonance for those tied to the state’s composite heritage, and having a stake in a future of sustained, sustainable and shared peace. As he points out, Kashmiryat – which lies sadly in tatters today – was based on “tolerance and inclusivity” and drew inspiration from its greatest champions, Lal Ded and Nund Rishi and was based on a syncretic philosophy that synthesised Shaivism and Sufi Islam. It is in recovering this shared culture that lies hope for the future.

In its most normative version, Article 370 was about people’s empowerment, providing them with political space and good governance. However, it is in various paragraphs of the main judgement and Kaul’s moving appeal that we can find a vision for the future of Jammu and Kashmir. In Kaul’s words (in which he paraphrases the song Que Sera Sera) “Whatever has been, has been but the future is ours to see”.

The judgment is unambiguous in its conclusions, and three features need to be brought out. First, Article 370 was a feature of “asymmetric federalism” and not sovereignty; that the state of J&K did not retain “any element of sovereignty” after the issue of the proclamation of November 25, 1949, by which the Constitution of India was adopted. And that J&K does enjoy any “internal sovereignty” that differs from the power and privileges enjoyed by other states of the Union. Second, it can be garnered from the “historical context” of the inclusion of Article 370 in Part XXI of the Constitution that it is a temporary provision. Third, the President had the power to declare that Article 370(3) ceases to operate without the recommendation of a Constituent Assembly.

Much of this was indeed borne out by the debates in the Constituent Assembly of India regarding the insertion of Article 370. As the great poet and thinker, Maulana Hasrat Mohani asked in the Constituent Assembly on October 17, 1949: “Why this discrimination please?” The answer was given by Jawaharlal Nehru’s confidante, the wise but misunderstood Thanjavur Brahmin, Gopalaswami Ayyangar (minister without portfolio in the first Union Cabinet, a former diwan to Maharaja Hari Singh of Jammu and Kashmir, and the principal drafter of Article 370). Ayyangar argued that for a variety of reasons, Kashmir, unlike other princely states, was not yet ripe for integration.

India had been at war with Pakistan over Jammu and Kashmir and while there was a ceasefire, the conditions were still “unusual and abnormal”. Part of the state’s territory was in the hands of “rebels and enemies”. The involvement of the United Nations brought an international dimension to this conflict, an “entanglement” that would only end when the “Kashmir problem is satisfactorily resolved”. But there was a clear view that J&K would one day integrate like other states of the Union (hence, the term “temporary provisions” in the title of the Article). In many ways, treating J&K as just another state — with its dignity, distinct culture and political space restored – may be more acceptable to political leaders in the state than may have been in the past. Surely they would rather be an MK Stalin, Mamata Banerjee or a Naveen Patnaik than a muzzled leader in a state with “special status”.

The judgment also unambiguously has recommended that elections to the state be held before September 30, 2024, and that statehood be restored to J&K as early as possible. Hopefully, this will happen before the elections and it would have helped if the timeline had been specified by the Court.

It is in the far-sighted recommendation (made by Justice Kaul) that the government consider setting up an impartial truth and reconciliation commission (on the lines of South Africa) that the Court may have extended its terms of legal reference but positioned itself as a real beacon of hope. According to Kaul: “The Commission will investigate and report on the violation of human rights both by State and non-State actors perpetrated in Jammu & Kashmir at least since the 1980s and recommend measures for reconciliation.”

Drawing inspiration from Nelson Mandela and South Africa, Kaul argues that the “principles of Ubuntu, or the art of humanity, and inclusiveness should be central to the process. This will facilitate a reparative approach that enables forgiveness for the wounds of the past and forms the basis of achieving a shared national identity.” Embracing the spirit of Ubuntu is a slogan often attributed to Mandela, and it is embedded in his life journey. Indeed, healing and forgiving, after all, is the first step all of us must take in J&K. In that sense, the Supreme Court has shown us the way.

Amitabh Mattoo is professor, JNU and former vice-chancellor, University of Jammu. The views expressed are personal