Reading Bhai Daljit Singh and Diagnosing Sikh Amnesia

Navtoj Singh

“Sikhs around the world should get a copy of Kharku Sangarsh Di Sakhi and start digging into the pages to clear the fog of amnesia around our recent history–erased by the Indian state and disremembered by many of our own in fear.”

In this personal reflection, Navtoj Singh confronts the realities of state-enforced erasure of the Sikh struggle and the corresponding amnesia experienced by many Sikhs–especially those living within the confines of the Indian state. Kharku Sikh Sangarsh Di Sakhi (Part I & Part II) can be purchased from Bibekgarh Prakashan or their global partners. The audiobook can also be accessed by downloading the SikhSiyasat App (Apple and Google Play) for those who cannot read Punjabi.

Without feeling a deep sense of sadness, one cannot reflect on how many Sikhs today know and remember very little about what we rightly reminisce as the kharku sangarsh (armed struggle). It is such an outlandish reality that a conflict that spanned a decade on the plains of charda (rising ie. eastern) Panjab is often treated as a faded memory for many–that too with many outright disavowals of any memory altogether. This is more troubling as many of the survivors and beneficiaries of that movement (ie. Sikhs around the world) have themselves contributed to its erasure altogether.

For me–an individual born just years after the armed struggle came to a close or when so-called “normalcy” returned to the border state–this reality becomes all the more troubling when I see how my peers have internalized self-blame and guilt to such a degree as though the kharku sangarsh was simply some ‘misguided mischief’ instigated by our people.

My birth place makes things even more interesting. Being born in a state outside Panjab–but within the confines of the Indian Union–I can bear testimony to the fact that this entire period, which informs contemporary Sikh subjectivity, is widely treated as a taboo subject. I remember years ago, when an individual made a slight remark referencing the ’84 ghallughara while speaking from the local Gurudwara dais, the committee members became visibly nervous and tapped his legs signaling him to “shut up”. This is the level of dread and the self-blame present in many Sikhs throughout India. Many shake with trepidation and horror talking about our own selves even while we are at our Gurdwaras. Growing up, our households and even community spaces were void of the discussions and acknowledgment of the struggle that the entire Panth went through merely a few decades ago. It is as if there is a deep-seated determination amongst a large number of Sikhs to somehow erase the period from memory altogether; harboring a desire to simply “forget about it”.

In this regard, Prof Gurbhagat Singh warns us of the dangers of such forgetting when he writes about traumatic experiences and the resultant memory-setting of amnesia:   

the amnesic behavior may drive the vanquished or wounded culture for incorporation into the Other’s memory system and paradigms… if this happens, amnesia may lead to “existential forgetting” and later on cause more serious problems like a collective cultural neurosis… in some cases the hegemonized culture may decay and vanish or may be forced to self-annihilate by contaminating and losing itself into the hegemonic memory.

This has far reaching implications where we face the possibility of even losing the Sikh Self if we do not dare to remember and reflect on our collective experience. Along with collective self-blame, this enforced amnesia is the reflection–and a symptom–of a deep-seated fear of a powerful State where most Sikhs reside till today:

“....due to the fear of the times, many of their [jujharoos/warriors] own thought it might be better to disremember them…Indian state violence had such a deep psychological impact that many people disremembered their own” (Kharku Sangarsh Di Sakhi. Vol 1, p 96).

In this respect, I’d like to attest another personal fact. This experience is likely not limited to me alone, but likely reflects the broader “Indian Sikh” reality. Since the time I can remember, I always carried a sense of acceptance for the contemporary panthic sangarsh–but this was limited to the attack on Sri Darbar Sahib. Because of the socialization process through India’s educational system, I remained influenced by nationalism and considered the subsequent armed struggle to be a problem caused by our own. My major line of argument in opposition to the movement was backed up by Indian patriotism which, as a Sikh, I was taught as if it was natural and common sense; that we are the loyal and brave soldiers to this great nation, to the sacred “Bharat Mata”. The fact of the matter was that I accepted and even valorized the gursikhs that fought the Indian state in June under the leadership of Baba Jarnail Singh jee but I couldn’t wrap my head around the following decade long Panthic struggle. It has been remembered as the “kaala daur” (dark days) by many in the mainstream and I obediently followed suit without much counterthought.

This is the outcome of disremembering our personal and collective past–an outcome of political hegemony of one people over the other. Narratives that should have shaped the Sikh social psyche throughout this period were missing en masse. The community amnesia had set in deeply. There were approximately two decades of engrams (ie. memories) amiss from our long term memory–simply nonexistent!

But there is light at the end of the tunnel. Through my own experience as a member of the Sikh diaspora within India, I was given the opportunity to re-remember the panthic struggle post-1984. The fact that this movement choked the Bippar state for ten long years despite being fought in a region with nothing but fields and small concrete jungles in today’s east Punjab is nothing short of a legendary feat. This is a testament to the enormous potential of a disenfranchised people who–despite the most humble resources–shook the modern Indian state to its core. That was only possible with Satguru jee’s bakhshish (blessing).

Through Guru Sahib’s mehar (grace), I eventually came out of this indoctrination  and finally saw the actual picture through the panth’s eyes and not the oppressor’s.

A huge part of this process was made possible by gaining access to a first-hand account of the kharku sangarsh from an ardent soldier and general of the movement himself: Bhai Sahib Daljit Singh. Guru Sahib enormously blessed Bhai Sahib with the sangat of countless (and many nameless) gursikhs who laid down their lives and attained shaheedeeyan, as well as the sewa of telling the sakhi (tale/legend/witness) of the sangarsh to the next generation–who bears the responsibility to take this struggle into its next phase.

Bhai Daljit Singh has published two hardcover volumes which share numerous personal experiences of his time in the sangarsh. These books, titled Kharku Sangarsh Di Sakhi, narrate a first-hand account of the struggle from its inception. What makes this testimony even more significant is Bhai Dalit Singh’s role within the movement itself. He is widely acknowledged as a seasoned general who played a prominent leading role within the movement, as a head of the Sikh Students’ Federation as well as a leading ideologue of the Panthic Committee. Bhai Sahib narrates the entire struggle in the form of a sakhi (tale/story). Through the engaging writing style, he covers an expansive range of topics, including the background and motivations behind the movement, the tactics, the weaponry, the battle grounds, the resources, the events, the characters and everything in between. Perhaps most importantly, he centralizes Sikhi and shahadat at the core of the story. Writing about one Singh nicknamed “Agg di Naal” by Bhai Gurjant Singh Budhsinghwala, Bhai Daljit Singh writes:

“…speaking very little, maintaining a humble demeanor and a strict observance of Gurmat values along with appropriately sufficient diet, strict physical exercise and laughing with open hearts was their shared characteristic [of jujharoos/warriors]” (Vol 1, p 87).

Cover to cover, this is the central aspect and thesis of the book: the kamaaee (spiritual wealth) and immeasurable ghalnaa (labour/effort) of those pehredaars (sentinels) to whom only Gursikhi mattered.

I was fortunate enough to be groomed and raised in the care of loving grandparents. In their love and care, they made sure to pass on the sense and essence of Sikhi they had, in whatever way they could. One out of many aspects of this nurturing, was listening to the sakhiyan (tales/stories) of Sikh shaheeds, specifically Guru Arjan Sahib and Guru Teg Bahadur Sahib, the Chaar Sahibzade and the countless warriors of the 18th century. As a child growing up, these narrations always captured my imagination and had a deep personal impact. To read Bhai Daljit Singh’s work was an opportunity to revisit those sakhiyan (stories) capturing the Sikh spirit instilled in the panth by the ultimate sovereign, Guru Nanak Sahib. It became even more enthralling as the realization struck that this sangarsh was at its peak only a few years ago–and it continues to inform our present and future today.

Rather than demoralizing Sikhs, the June and November 1984 ghallugharay (holocausts) lifted their spirits and returned them to the Guru-ordained chardikala in its highest form. This was a historical turning point in Sikh memory which filled Sikhs with a new joyous and cherished breath of life. 

As Bhai Sahib writes:

For us, our past lives were now akin to death and the coming war filled with life. What unique times these were where–from the midst of war and death, life and calm were to be attained (Vol 1, p 26).

Time and again, Bhai Sahib makes it a point to elaborate upon the atmik jeevan (spiritual discipline) of the Singh Singhniyan fighting on the frontlines. He mentions with utmost regard as to how the struggle was being fought not only with the limited weapons and arms the Khalsa had, but primarily with their individual and collective simran, sewa, amritvela and perpetual abhiyaas of Gurbani and its value system. Afterall, the sangarsh was being fought to maintain the panth’s traditions as imbibed in Gurmat. Perhaps most insightful however, is Bhai Daljit Singh’s view on the participants and supporters of this sangarsh. While reading KSDS it becomes abundantly clear that the movement was not just fought by a few hundred individuals or combatants. It was supported, resourced and fuelled by the prem (love) and aseesan (blessings) of countless nameless Sikhs and their families all around the globe. It was the Panth’s collective ardaas and Being (honnd) that drove the movement. Bhai Sahib at one place reminisces about the many anonymous Singhs of the struggle:

“…these people were like invisible mountains of faith, patience and sewa who made us invincible in front of the enemy. Future wars will also be fought on the shoulders of individuals with this moral character” (Vol 1, p 69).

This account also brought into focus a reenactment of the 18th-century Sikh struggle in our contemporary time and space. While experiencing Bhai Daljit Singh’s sakhiyaan, the reader is mystically transported to 18th-century Panjab where the Guru’s beloved Panth is fighting a relentless war of survival to upkeep the Guru’s nishan (insignia) and spirit. Bhai Sahib himself at many places makes it clear that the pinnacle of the sangarsh is shahadat (martyrdom). A seemingly distant Sikh past of the now bygone 18th century Panjab was re-performed and relived in the memory of the Panth to the shock of the world:

“Jang (battle/war) and shahadat (martyrdom) had reinvigorated and rejuvenated the panth” (Vol 1, p 28).

Another strain of connection to our puratan history was the brutal and grotesque torture employed on Sikhs. Sikh shaheeds have borne witness to how Singhs displayed composure and steadfastness while literally staring death in the face. Amongst numerous examples of shaheedi that Bhai Daljit Singh narrates is the example of Bhai Gurdev Singh Debu of KCF:

“…they picked at his entire body with a set of pliers and then took out one of his eyes. One foot was cut with a saw and he was then put into boiling water and killed. Gurdev Singh kept doing Paath and chanting waheguru waheguru waheguru undeterred…” (Vol 2, p 405).

Such characters are built through Guru’s kirpa (blessing/grace) and immersing one’s self from head to toe in the Guru’s shabad (word):

Gur(i) Kahiya Sa Kaar Kmavah(u)
Engage in the deeds that the Guru has ordained
Sri Guru Granth Sahib jee, ang 929

To say that this is recommended reading, especially for young Sikhs all around the world, would be a massive understatement. Sikhs around the world should get a copy of Kharku Sangarsh Di Sakhi and start digging into the pages to clear the fog of amnesia around our recent history–erased by the Indian state and disremembered by many of our own in fear. If one is generally not a reader at all, let this be the only book you read.

Such primary accounts need to be urgently written and recorded by other Singhs and families who have witnessed and experienced the sangarsh first hand. This is a necessary step to address this collective Amnesia of ours, and at least try to remember the tales of our family, our panth. Failing to do so will only lead to the “existential forgetting” or collective cultural neurosis that Dr. Gurbhagat Singh warned us of.

I wait for the third volume of this series to open up further layers of the kharku sangarsh, and for these narratives to play a similar role to what Sri Gur Panth Prakash of Shaheed Bhai Rattan Singh Bhangu did with his poetic memorialization of 18-century Sikh memory. This is that missing tale of and from our elders that went silent for a brief moment but has now returned to its heirs for them to cherish and own as they chart out their tomorrow.

Gurmukh(i) Panth Suhawada Dhan Guru Dhan Guru Piaare.
Bhai Gurdas jee, Vaar 40, Pauri 6