In what has been described as the deadliest terror attack in Jammu and Kashmir since the revocation of Article 370, Islamist terrorists opened fire on a group of tourists, picking them by name and faith, at Baisaran meadow near Pahalgam, killing at least 26 people. The Resistance Front (TRF), a proxy of Pakistan’s ISI-backed Lashkar-e-Taiba (LeT), has claimed responsibility for the massacre. Intelligence reports indicate that the operation was masterminded by LeT commander Saifullah Kasuri, while the assault was executed on the ground by a TRF unit led by Asif Fauji.
When The Resistance Front (TRF) first began claiming responsibility for killings in Kashmir in late 2019, it wasn’t the violence that puzzled security agencies, it was the name. Gone were the familiar calls to jihad or pan-Islamic slogans. In their place stood a label that sounded almost politically correct, deliberately stripped of religious connotation and carefully dressed in the language of local dissent. But behind this new mask was an old and well-rehearsed script, written not in Srinagar but across the border in Rawalpindi.
The TRF, formed after the 2019 abrogation of Article 370, is used by Pakistan’s ISI to mask religious extremism under a localised name. TRF has conducted multiple attacks on civilians and security forces, including the 2024 Ganderbal killings.
TRF did not emerge from a grassroots movement, as most sympathisers of Kashmir militancy romanticise. It did not grow organically out of street protests or local mobilisation. It was, by all credible accounts, constructed, designed to appear indigenous, secular, and spontaneous while operating with the logistics, training, and coordination of a seasoned militant infrastructure. The idea was as tactical as it was deceptive: allow Lashkar-e-Taiba to carry on its work under a new name, and give Pakistan’s Inter-Services Intelligence (ISI) the plausible deniability it needed to avoid further international scrutiny.
For the sake of argument, let’s have a look at it from those sympathisers’ lens. There is still not one shred of argument I can come up with to justify this particular terror outfit.
Who is Saifullah Kasuri? The Alleged Mastermind?
The attack was reportedly masterminded by LeT’s Saifullah Kasuri and led on the ground by TRF operative Asif Fauji.
Kasuri, a senior LeT commander and former head of its Peshawar HQ, is closely linked to Hafiz Saeed and has a history of public alignment with JuD and its political front, the Milli Muslim League. Intelligence reports also tie digital activity related to the attackers to safe houses in Muzaffarabad and Karachi.
Eyewitnesses indicated Pakistani involvement, supported by Pashto-speaking assailants. Indian intelligence linked the attack’s timing to provocative speeches by Pakistan’s Army chief Asim Munir and LeT’s Abu Musa just days prior. Evidence increasingly points to direct cross-border coordination behind the massacre.
Origins of a Manufactured Insurgency
TRF first appeared in the aftermath of a major political turning point in the region: the abrogation of Article 370 by the Indian government in August 2019, which revoked Jammu and Kashmir’s special constitutional status. The move triggered outrage in Pakistan and gave impetus to its military-intelligence complex to recalibrate its Kashmir strategy.
Traditionally reliant on groups like LeT and Jaish-e-Mohammed (JeM), the ISI recognised the growing global pressure to curb support for explicitly Islamist outfits. FATF (Financial Action Task Force) grey-listing, international scrutiny, and diplomatic fatigue forced Pakistan to innovate.
TRF was that innovation.
On the surface, it branded itself as a secular, homegrown outfit formed to resist Indian “occupation”. In practice, however, Indian intelligence agencies quickly established that TRF was nothing more than a shadow identity of LeT. It provided plausible deniability for Pakistan and allowed existing LeT operatives to re-emerge under new names.
The ISI’s Invisible Hand
The ISI’s fingerprints are all over TRF’s operational and strategic architecture. From recruitment and financing to logistics and media outreach, the group mirrors the ISI playbook perfected during earlier insurgencies.
Recruitment, often facilitated through encrypted platforms such as Telegram and WhatsApp, is targeted and professional. Radicalised youth in the Kashmir Valley, as well as Pakistan, are persuaded not just with ideology, but also with financial incentives and promises of a glorious martyrdom. These recruits are trained in small arms and guerrilla tactics, often in hideouts located across the Line of Control (LoC), and are then re-infiltrated into the Valley.
Unlike previous militant groups, TRF has also embraced a slick digital media strategy. Its social media handles publish threat lists, issue statements after attacks, and claim responsibility within hours. The messaging is stylised in Western fonts, written in English, and often aimed at international audiences. It is clear that TRF’s propaganda team understands global optics and that narrative warfare is now just as critical as the bullets they fire.
Heinous Acts and the Campaign of Fear
TRF’s emergence coincided with a sharp uptick in civilian killings in Jammu and Kashmir. In 2021 and 2022, the group targeted minority communities, political activists, off-duty police personnel, and migrant workers in a series of cold-blooded assassinations designed to trigger fear and social fragmentation.
One of the most brutal incidents attributed to TRF was the targeted killing of Makhan Lal Bindroo, a prominent Kashmiri Pandit pharmacist, in Srinagar in October 2021. Known for staying back in the Valley during the 1990 exodus, Bindroo was shot inside his pharmacy in broad daylight, an act that sent shivers throughout the nation.
In the same week, two migrant labourers were gunned down in separate incidents in Pulwama and Kulgam. These were not random acts of violence, but part of a sustained campaign by TRF to paralyse daily life and deter non-locals from settling or working in the Valley. The goal was clear: project instability and question the Indian government’s claims of normalcy post-Article 370.
TRF has also made direct attempts on security forces, using hybrid militants, individuals with no previous record of militancy who carry out one-off attacks. This hybrid model, encouraged by handlers across the border, complicates intelligence-gathering and law enforcement. It’s a tactic lifted directly from the LeT-JuD (Jamaat-ud-Dawa) manuals, refined with ISI input.
A Legal and Security Response
India’s Ministry of Home Affairs (MHA) officially designated TRF as a terrorist organisation under the Unlawful Activities (Prevention) Act (UAPA) in January 2023. The United States followed suit the same year, adding TRF to its list of Specially Designated Global Terrorist (SDGT) entities. These actions were not symbolic. They aimed to curb TRF’s fundraising, monitor its digital footprints, and enable extradition efforts in future cases.
Operationally, Indian security forces have had some success in neutralising TRF cadres. Several local commanders, including the group’s early poster-boy Sajjad Gul, were eliminated or captured. However, TRF’s fluid structure, designed deliberately to be non-hierarchical, means new names constantly emerge. Unlike LeT’s earlier cohorts, TRF operatives are often unrecognised by security databases, making counter-insurgency efforts more challenging.
Pakistan’s Plausible Deniability Strategy
TRF’s most dangerous asset is its ability to mask its Pakistani roots. By claiming to be “resistance fighters” rather than jihadists, TRF attempts to reframe the Kashmir conflict from a cross-border proxy war to an indigenous uprising. This narrative is bolstered by selective international commentary that buys into the idea of local disenfranchisement rather than orchestrated violence.
The ISI has refined this strategy over the decades. From the mujahideen of the 1990s to the Taliban’s diplomatic makeover, the agency has consistently used deniable actors to advance strategic goals. TRF is merely the Kashmir edition of this playbook.
By operating under TRF’s name, LeT is able to continue its activities without attracting the same level of international condemnation. The group’s operatives receive the same training, use the same weapons caches, and report to the same handlers in Rawalpindi. The only change is branding.
Impact on Regional Stability
The TRF saga is a litmus test for regional counter-terrorism cooperation. Pakistan’s continued tolerance and in fact active encouragement and financial and operational support of groups like LeT and its surrogates undermine the possibility of sustainable peace. TRF’s targeting of other religions and its hybrid militancy model threatens the fragile peace of Kashmir, which had begun showing signs of cautious normalcy post-2019. It poses a threat to tourists and pilgrims alike (Amarnath, Sharda Peeth, etc)
International responses have been mixed. While the United States and France have publicly condemned Pakistan-backed terror, other global powers have remained diplomatically cautious, often prioritising strategic relationships over security concerns. The result is a lopsided accountability framework, where Pakistan faces minimal cost for using proxies like TRF while Kashmir and India continue to bleed.
A New Name, the Same Old War
The Resistance Front is not a resistance in any traditional sense. It is a proxy, a tool of asymmetric warfare rebranded for the digital age. At its core lies the same machinery that powered the insurgencies of the past: Pakistan’s ISI, Lashkar-e-Taiba’s networks, and a strategic calculus that views Kashmir not as a humanitarian concern but as a battlefield.
For India, recognising TRF for what it truly is, not a new outfit, but an old enemy in a new mask, is essential. The battle against TRF is not just a tactical one. It is a battle for truth, for memory, and for holding those who sponsor terrorism accountable, regardless of what name their proxies wear.
