Welcome! We trust everyone had a nice break, so let’s get back to it, shall we?
(Ed.: You can find Part 1, here)
Okay, what on Earth is “Khalistan”?
“Khalistan” is the name for a hypothetical sovereign nation with a majority-Sikh population, that would consist largely of the Indian state of Punjab and some neighbouring areas.
Remember how we mentioned that, around independence, some Sikhs proposed not being a part of India or Pakistan? That wasn’t an idea that didn’t go away. Although, for a long time, it was less of a movement and more of an concept that would be debated in intellectual circles, or occasionally floated by laymen when discussing issues in the Sikh/Punjabi community.
In the first couple of decades following the Partition, it wouldn’t have been unheard of for someone in Punjab, especially a Sikh, who had a strong memory of the colonial period to muse that they didn’t see what was so special about independence, that they got nothing out of it.
Also, it’s worth throwing in that Punjab essentially fed the rest of India, and that Punjabis themselves made up a huge proportion of the Indian army, often finding themselves doing the bulk of fighting and dying when India and Pakistan would wage war against one another; which was a lot.
At any rate, after seeing their Punjab’s condition slowly declining, no matter how much they did for the country, those casual independence conversations got more serious with time. Enter Indira Gandhi.
Oh! Indira Gandhi! I know her! She’s that innocent lady who was murdered by terrorists, right?
For some reason the Western media seems to have decided that every female politician in the Third World is to be viewed sympathetically (Ed.: It might have something to do with men being absolute monsters). The truth is that most of them are from the old, rich, powerful elite that were wealthy long before the colonists came, got even more wealthy while the colonists ruled, and ended up taking over when they left.
You know how working class British people feel about Margaret Thatcher? Indira Gandhi was Margaret Thatcher if Thatcher grew up insanely rich, and didn’t have a fraction the Iron Lady’s famed empathetic nature. When she entered politics, Ms. Gandhi’s own father remarked that he didn’t approve of her election as it reeked of “dynasticism”. Much like many men from Old money, aristocratic, families Indira Gandhi viewed a ruling position as an entitlement (Ed.: Honestly, her father’s comments are kind of rich, as he was no different).
Her rule is full of drama, but, to summarise, she was power-mad, happily sold out her country to Western business interests, and woe betide anyone who stood in her way, including shutting down the country’s democracy because she found it annoying, and jailing and killing anyone who stood in her way. You can imagine she wouldn’t be very happy about people in Punjab even entertaining the idea of sovereignty.
As for her being murdered by terrorists, no, she wasn’t, but more on that later. First, let’s talk a bit about Bhindranwale.
Okay, I’ve seen a picture of that Bhindranwale guy on the back of BMW. A really angry man on the news called him a “Khalistani terrorist”.
Not only is the claim that Bhindranwale was a terrorist incredibly dubious, he wasn’t even a Khalistani.
From the late-1970s to the early-1980s the general mood in Punjab, particularly among Sikhs, had begun to really sour against the Dominion. In the decades since independence, the state had become continuously more corrupt, the mood towards the federal government had grown more hostile, and it was clear that Punjab appeared to be on somewhat of a downward trajectory in general. A lot more people started to embrace the concept of sovereignty more seriously. Given Indira Gandhi’s attitude towards dissent, this had become quite a tense circumstance.
It was in that tension that a charismatic figure emerged in the form of Jarnail Singh Brar, AKA Bhindranwale (Ed.: Bhindranwale basically means “from Bhindran”). Bhindranwale was an educator at a religious school who had come to prominence lecturing about the state of affairs in Punjab, and advocating for a re-adoption of the religious values that he felt had been lost in the past. He adhered, quite militantly, to a very strict interpretation of the faith, “militantly” being a key word. Bhindranwale and his supports, on occasion, engaged in deadly clashes with leaders of other sects that he viewed as heretics (as they did, him).
As Bhindranwale’s popularity increased among the general populace, a lot of politicians made overtures to get in his good graces.
Whoa! Slow down! Did you just say “deadly clashes”?
Yes.
And his popularity increased?
Yes.
And politicians wanted to get into his good graces?
What are you not getting?
What are YOU not getting?
OH, we see what’s happening, here. You’re looking at it from a “Canadian” perspective. When we say words like “corruption”, we’re referring to Third World corruption, not Harper-Duffy or Trudeau-SNC Lavalin corruption. This is a BAD place we’re talking about. If you’re in any kind of prominent authoritative position in that part of the world, you got there because someone died. Politicians, police officers, crossing guards, they don’t just have skeletons in their closets, they’ve got them in their living room. They display them on their front lawns. They carpool with them.
The fact that the deaths connected to Bhindranwale were only of prominent figures who engaged in direct violent conflict with him made him a downright saint. That was part of his appeal.
Let’s say some gangster and his collection of goons is trying to steal your home (Ed.: For real. Stuff like that happens there, a lot). You could go to the cops, who’d demand a bribe to help you, and then not do anything; a politician, who’d demand a bribe and then double-cross you and side with the gangster; a different gangster who’d demand a bribe, then kill both of you and take it for himself; or, instead, you could go to Bhindranwale, who’d refuse your money and just tell the criminal to back off because it’s the right thing to do.
While many Sikhs actually disagreed with his rigid and militant dogmatic views, Bhindranwale was generally regarded as a moral, trusty-worthy person; and even many of biggest his critics viewed a Punjab where Bhindranwale was the law as preferable to one where the law was the law.
Okay, go on.
He’d earned the respect of the people, so, naturally, politicians wanted to exploit it. They figured, if the people listen to Bhindranwale, and Bhindranwale listens to me, then, logically, the people will listen to me, too.
These political overtures included the management of the Golden Temple complex inviting Bhindranwale and his followers to move in to the facility.
Golden Temple! I know that phrase! I saw that on a bag of flour!
For the first couple hundred years of Sikhism, the faith was governed by the Guruship, which was analogous to the Catholic Papacy. During much of that time, the Golden Temple complex, known locally as “Darbar Sahib” was the seat of the Guru, comparable to the Vatican.
Mainstream Sikhism no longer maintains a clergy, and there is some debate as to the theocratic status of the complex management, but the spiritual significance of the site remains, so the extension of an invitation of residency to Bhindranwale was a significant gesture, and an acknowledgement of his influence.
Which brings us back to Indira and the Khalistani movement. Initially, much like other politicians, she tried to attach herself to the Bhindranwale-train, but, just like those other politicians, she learned an important lesson. Not only did Bhindranwale not have much interest in politics, his interests were very much purely theological, but, perhaps most perplexingly for those in power, he couldn’t be bought.
If he thought a politician was acting out of turn, he didn’t hesitate to call it out, and that included Gandhi. As you can imagine, it wasn’t long before she began to apply pressure to have him removed from the complex, a notion which he refused, due to the public’s seeming preference for his presence. Eventually she became so adamant in her insistence that he be removed from the premises, that Bhindranwale and his cohort took measures to fortify their position using sand bags and importing weapons in preparation for military intervention.
Now, in the midst of all this drama surrounding Bhindranwale’s residency, the Khalistani movement had gained a great deal of political momentum in the Punjabi zeitgeist. Because of his generally defiant attitude towards the powers that be, many began to associate Bhindranwale with the movement, but his own statements on the subject generally suggested an ambivalent attitude. He did say that he would not oppose sovereignty, but had also once stated “We like to live in India”.
All this brings us to the events of 1984.
We’re only up to 1984?!
We promise things speed up pretty quickly, from here. Until then, maybe check out our concessions stand, and we’ll see you in Part 3.
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