India was never integrated. There was no real meeting of hearts between Hindus and Muslims. They have been friends but mostly on a superficial level. There was no real intermingling, no inter-community marriages. Jinnah harped on about Muslims being apprehensive of living in a Hindu-majority state and the majority of the Muslim middle class responded to this.
Partition was inevitable. It had to take place. Pointing fingers at any one or the whole bunch of political figures involved serves no purpose because nobody could have stopped it. The build-up, that fury, the communally charged atmosphere was difficult to control. The only thing is that Partition could have taken place without so much bloodshed and violence. It was the bloodiest exchange. I don’t think either Pandit Nehru or Jinnah had imagined this level of violence. In any case both of them seemed to live in a dream world of their own— Jinnah had even hoped that he would go back to Bombay and live in his house there.
The only person who did seem to comprehend the very seriousness of Partition and all that followed was Mahatma Gandhi. He did not take part in any of the independence celebrations. He’d remained quiet and even went on a fast. When anti-Pakistan feelings were at a fever pitch and the Indian Government refused to honour its pledge to pay Pakistan Rs 55 crore, he went on a fast, forcing Patel and Nehru to keep their word. He knew he was asking for trouble but he did not give it a second thought. He told his secretary Pyarelal: ‘Today I find myself alone. Even the Sardar [Patel] and Jawaharlal Nehru think that my reading of the situation is wrong and peace is sure to return if the Partition is agreed upon . . . I shall perhaps not be alive to witness it, but should the evil I apprehend overtake India and her independence be imperilled, let it not be said that Gandhi was a party to India’s vivisection’.
On the 1984 Riots
I was witness to the Sikh riots in Delhi. I saw the police doing little to control the rioters. Journalists and activists who recounted the carnage in Gujarat, had similar stories to tell. When the police are given instructions to stand by and do nothing, it is time to be worried.
Delhi witnessed a bloodbath on 31 October 1984. 3000 Sikhs were killed in the capital Delhi alone and their property worth crores looted. Gurdwaras were burnt down and this massacre went uncontrolled. The government, the police, the establishment, did nothing.
I remember the day vividly. Around 11 in the morning I heard Mrs Gandhi had been shot in her house and had been taken to hospital. By the afternoon, I heard on the BBC that she was dead. For a couple of hours life in Delhi came to a standstill. Then all hell broke loose. Mobs yelling ‘khoon ka badla khoon se lenge’ (we will avenge blood with blood) could be heard on the streets. Ordinary Sikhs going about their life were waylaid and roughed up. I saw a cloud of black smoke billowing up from Connaught Circus: Sikh-owned shops had been set on fire. I saw mobs smashing taxis owned by Sikhs right opposite my apartment. Sikh- owned shops in Khan market were looted. Over 100 policemen armed with lathis who lined the road did nothing. I saw them turn a blind eye. At midnight truckloads of men armed with cans of petrol attacked the gurdwara behind our house. The granthi was beaten up the men set fire to the shrine. Early next morning I rang up President Zail Singh. He would not take the call. His secretary told me that the President advised me to move into the home of a Hindu friend till the trouble was over. The newly appointed prime minister Rajiv Gandhi was busy receiving guests arriving for his mother’s funeral; Home Minister Narasimha Rao did not budge from his office; the Lt Governor had received no orders to take action against the rioters. Seventy-two gurdwaras were torched and thousands of Sikh homes looted. Around mid morning, a Swedish diplomat came in his car and took my wife and me to his home in the diplomatic enclave. Romesh Thapar had asked him to ensure we were safe. We had never met him before, but he kept us in his house for three days. I felt like a Jew must have in Nazi Germany; like a refugee in my own country. I began to understand how a Muslim might feel in a Hindu neighbourhood in a riot.
Later, I was pained to see names like Kamal Nath, even my friend Vasant Sathe, in the victims’ testimonies. I was told these Congressmen went to Rakab Ganj and other gurdwaras and incited the murderous mobs. I have spoken to Sathe about this, I needed to know. He claims he is innocent. There are other Congress people who I don’t doubt had a role in the killings. They all roam free and contest elections.
But there were also people from whom I had never expected support but they came to see me during those days. Arun Shourie, Malgaonkar. I remember that. And the Swedish diplomat—we didn’t even know him. He had no reason to do all that he did for us.
When I surrendered the Padma Bhushan in protest of the ‘84 riots, among the people who condemned me was Vinod Mehta then the editor of the Observer. He wrote that when it came to choosing between being an Indian and being a Sikh, I had chosen to be a Sikh. I had never believed that I had to be one or the other. I was both an Indian and a Sikh and proud of being so. I might well have asked Mehta ‘Are you a Hindu or an Indian?’ Hindus didn’t have to prove their nationality; only Muslims, Christians and Sikhs are required to give evidence of their patriotism.
As for the Nanavati Report, it was utter rubbish. I have all 349 pages of the inquiry report as well as the Action Taken Report presented by Prime Minister Manmohan Singh’s government in Parliament on 8 August 2005. It is largely based on what transpired in the various police stations in different zones and a long list of names which mean nothing to me. There are broad hints of the involvement of Congress leaders like H.K.L. Bhagat, Jadgish Tytler, Dharam Das Shastri and Sajjan Kumar. Nanavati gives them the benefit of the doubt and suggests yet another inquiry commission to look into the charges against them. Yet another commission? For God’s sake, is he serious? What sort of fools does he take us for?
The Sikhs
For a fairly small minority, the Sikhs are disproportionately successful and visible in Indian society. I think it is the Punjabi spirit of chardi kala—never say die. The legendary jovialness of the Sikhs is another reason. You could say that the greater visibility may also be because Sikhs are gregarious and great braggers and boasters!
Am I a Sikh first? No. I’m an agnostic. A free-thinking sybarite! Unlike religious people, I like the good life. But, since I was born a Sikh, I have a sense of belonging to the community. Mostly it is petty things like counting how many Sikhs there are in positions of power. In politics and the top bureaucracy, in the armed forces, in sports. When Harbhajan [Singh] does well and wins matches for India, I say ‘Shabaash’. I feel chuffed. It is very childish!
When my son Rahul cut his hair and became a Mona, my wife and I were both upset—she more than me, and she said she never wanted to see his face again! I was upset because it seemed to me like a rejection of his community. But then I realized I was overreacting. He had a right to live his life on his terms. What is important to me may not be as important to him, and he may have his own commitment to his history and culture.
I’m concerned about any injustice done to the community, or when it does harm to itself. Then I feel I must speak up. Blue Star, for instance. It was a grave mistake and it hurt every Sikh. The militants had to be flushed out, but storming the Golden Temple was not the way to do it. I returned my Padma Bhushan to the government of India as protest. I felt that was the strongest statement I could make.
Before that, I had been writing against the violence of the Khalistanis because that is not Sikhism to me. I was called a traitor. I remember landing at Oslo airport once and being greeted with placards that said ‘Traitor, go back’! But I continued speaking against the killings and extortion because that kind of terrorism had nothing to do with Sikh identity and pride. It was only after I had returned the Padma Bhushan that the strong feelings against me among hard-line Sikhs abated.
The whole separatist movement was a mistake, and it went horribly wrong. It was suicidal of Sikhs to demand Khalistan. It would have been a small state, relying mainly on agriculture, with Pakistan on one side and India on the other, and
not viable at all. It was delusional to talk of a modern version of a Sikh empire. Even that existed only during the lifetime of Maharaja Ranjit Singh. After him, everyone killed each other for the throne and the British took over easily.
During the Khalistan movement, Bhindranwale earned us the hatred of the Hindus. His goons would stop buses on Punjab’s highways, line up all the Hindus and gun them down. They would kill or beat up journalists who did not toe their line. No leader stood up to them. Few journalists could afford to, especially in Punjab. Naturally, my criticism wasn’t going to be tolerated. The Khalistanis put me on their hit list. For years a poor armed policeman sat outside my house and had to accompany me wherever I went. It was a nuisance.
Those days of massive disaffection, and the Hindu-Sikh divide are now over. The only threat that I can see to Sikhism is that it may lapse into Hinduism. There’s a large number of Monas already, especially among the young; they become Hindus who believe in the Sikh gurus. As for the culture, it appears to be in a healthy state. The Punjab government has made Gurmukhi mandatory, so at least the future of our language is okay.
The roots of Sikhism lie in the Bhakti tradition in Hinduism. Guru Nanak picked its most important features: belief in one God who is indefinable, unborn, immortal, omniscient, all- pervasive and the epitome of truth; belief in the guru as the guide in spiritual matters; unity of mankind without caste distinction; rejection of idol worship and meaningless ritual; sanctity of the sangat (congregation) which is expected to break bread together at the langar; the gentle way of approaching God through domestic obligations; singing kirtan (hymns); emphasis on work as a moral obligation. There’s little doubt that Nanak felt he had a new message, and that it needed to be conveyed after him. So he started the practice of nominating a successor.
The Sikh community underwent a radical change with Guru Arjan’s martyrdom in 1606. And though its creed remained wedded to the Adi Granth, it was ready to defend itself by the use of arms. Guru Arjan’s son raised a cavalry of horsemen and build the Akal Takht facing the Harmandir as the seat of temporal power and came to be designated Miri Piri da Malik, the Lord of Temporal and Spiritual Power. The final transition, however, came after Aurangzeb had Tegh Bahadur executed in 1675. It was then that his son Guru Gobind’s concept of God underwent a martial metamorphosis. He succeeded in creating a breed of warriors with a do-or-die spirit. When the Sikhs became rulers of the Punjab, Maharaja Ranjit Singh realized the value of having troops of Nihangs whom he threw into battle against the Ghazis.
The determination to never give in or give up is deeply rooted in the Sikh psyche; even in adversity they are expected to remain in buoyant spirits—chardi kala. It is their belief that destiny is in their hands.
A Sikh revival coincided with the Green Revolution and the man who started it was Giani Zail Singh. He wanted to get the better of the Akalis who monopolized the propagation of Sikhism, and as chief minister of Punjab for five years, he ensured that the government had a Sikh orientation. It was Zail Singh, more than anybody else, who presented and promoted the rustic preacher Jarnail Singh Bhindranwale, the man who had brought back into the Khalsa fold thousands of young Sikh boys who had strayed from the path of orthodox Sikhism. He encouraged them to become shastradhari, bearer of arms, added revolvers and rifles to the kirpan and replaced horses with motorcycles. His uncouth village vocabulary was full of disparaging references to Hindus. Bhindranwale discovered that the easiest way to prevent the absorption of the Khalsa into Hinduism was by creating a gulf between Sikhs and Hindus. And for a while he succeeded in splitting the two communities.
It was this period that stands out the most in modern Sikh history. From Bhindranwale’s reign to Operation Blue Star, the assassination of Mrs Indira Gandhi and subsequent massacre of the Sikhs, and the ultimate isolation of the Sikh community when they were marginalized and made to feel they did not belong. But the tides turned. It happened slowly but it did happen. The Sikhs gradually recovered. For the first time in the history of India there is a Sikh Prime Minister, there was a Sikh as chief of the army [General J.J. Singh, now retired], a Sikh election commissioner [M.S. Gill], and a Sikh is heading the Planning Commission of India [Montek Singh Ahluwalia]. The prophecy ‘Raj karega Khalsa’ (the Khalsa shall rule) has come true, and the Khalsa is ruling today also through the ballpoint pen!
On Communalism
The nineties were dark times for India. Fascism well and truly crossed our threshold and dug its heels in our courtyard. We let the fanatics get away with every step they took without raising a howl of protest. They burnt books they did not like; they beat up journalists who wrote against them; they openly butchered people for believing in a different God.
The carnage in Gujarat, the Mahatma’s home state, in early 2002, and the subsequent landslide victory for Narendra Modi, spelt disaster for our country. The fascist agenda of Hindu fanatics is unlike anything India has experienced in its modern history. The saffron tide was rising and I was very afraid that it would destroy the nation. For the first time, I was seriously concerned for the country’s future. Modi is a murderer. And Advani and he have a symbiotic relationship—they help each other. Modi helps Advani win elections from Gandhinagar and Advani in turn exonerates him from the charges of the 2002 Gujarat riots.
I feel strongly about the communal cries of certain political parties—especially the parties that believe in Hindutva.
Soon after the Babri masjid was destroyed I’d asked the BJP’s K.R. Malkani ‘How many more mosques will you destroy? What about the repercussions? Hasn’t the atmosphere been fouled forever?’
There’s been one incident after another ever since. The killing of Christians in Kandhamal, Muslims in Gujarat, the Bangalore pub incident, the venom in Varun Gandhi’s speech. If you spare such intolerant people full of hatred you breed many more. But we never seem to punish the culprits who are fouling the atmosphere. Has anyone been punished for the Gujarat pogrom, for the Mumbai riots? In fact, the recommendations based on the findings of the Srikrishna Commission report have not been implemented till date.
Advani’s rath yatra from Somnath to Ayodhya leading to the destruction of the Babri Masjid on December 6, 1992 was the one event that pitchforked him to the centrestage and reshaped India’s politics. Advani, more than anyone else, sensed that Islamophobia was deeply ingrained in the minds of millions of Hindus and it needed only a spark to set it ablaze. He claims that breaking the mosque was not on his agenda; that he actually sent Murli Manohar Joshi and Uma Bharati to plead with those who went on the rampage to desist. If that is so, why were the two seen embracing each other and rejoicing when the nefarious task was completed? We don’t have to wait for the verdict of the Liberhan Commission to tell us what happened; we saw it with our own eyes.
At an event at the IIC I even told Advani to his face, in front of an audience, ‘You have sowed the seeds of communal disharmony in the country and we are paying the price for it.’
In his memoir he recorded the jubilation that followed at the site along with his triumphal return to Delhi. The repercussions were worldwide. Enraged Muslims targeted Hindu and Sikh temples—from Bangladesh to the UK. And in India, relations between Hindus and Muslims have never been the same. There were communal confrontations in different parts of the country: the serial blasts in Mumbai, the attack on the Sabarmati Express in Godhra and the massacre of innocent Muslims in Gujarat can all be traced back to the fall of the Babri Masjid.
However, the BJP got what it wanted. It reaped a rich electoral harvest, winning many of the elections that followed, and eventually installed Atal Behari Vajpayee as prime minister and L.K. Advani as his deputy. Advani is now their candidate for the top job and he asserts that he will not allow the Babri Masjid to be rebuilt.
The one time Advani faltered in his steps was when he visited Karachi in 2005. He had praised the speech Jinnah had made at the Pakistan Constituent Assembly on August 11, 1947, calling it ‘a classic exposition of a secular state
’. It might well have been so, but Jinnah’s speech was delivered at a time when millions of Hindus and Sikhs were being driven out of Pakistan or being slaughtered and an equal number of Muslims driven out of India. It was the bloodiest exchange in which over a million died and over 10 million were uprooted. Advani’s eulogy must have pleased Pakistanis. It was badly received in India, particularly by his colleagues in the RSS and BJP.
The RSS and BJP have realized after the 2009 elections that they are on the wrong track. I think that the downfall of the BJP has begun. They won’t be able to gather the mass support that they want. At least Manmohan Singh apologized in Parliament for what was done to the Sikhs in 1984. The BJP should apologize for the Babri Masjid demolition and for the Muslim massacre in the 2002 Gujarat riots.
All along, the one thing that has dictated the parties that preach Hindutva—their one motivating factor—has been Islamophobia. Their agenda has been anti-Muslim and they have been untied in that. In fact today, when Mohan Bhagwat says that the RSS is open to other communities and has Muslim and Christian members as well it has to be taken with a pinch of salt. I feel that today the general public has rejected their policy of violence and hatred. At least, that’s what I hope.
People all over the world are feeling more insecure today than ever before. And they are seeking refuge in their religion.
I’ve always wanted to bridge the gap between Sikhs and Muslims. When I was awarded the Rockefeller Fellowship in the late fifties, I decided to write the two volumes on the history of the Sikhs under the auspices of the Aligarh Muslim University. Atal Behari Vajpayee had raised this issue in parliament, saying he saw a sinister move in it.
Absolute Khushwant Page 6
