We Sikhs are a proud community, so let’s be honest

Rahul Singh

Iwas recently researching Sikh history on the period following World War II. And, as a Sikh myself, though not an orthodox turbaned one, I felt proud of my community and its achievements. Though small in number, just about 1.5 crore, less than 2 per cent of the country’s population, the Sikh contribution in the armed forces was totally disproportionate. In World War II, over 25 per cent of the officers in the three services of the British Indian army were Sikhs and the percentage was even higher in the lower ranks. One of those officers, 22-year-old Second Lieutenant Premindra Singh (Prem) Bhagat — who happens to be closely related to me — was awarded the Victoria Cross. He was one of only two Indian officers to have ever received that prestigious gallantry award. He went on to become a Lieutenant General. Another Sikh, Arjan Singh, the former Air Force Chief, was made Marshal of the IAF, the only airman to be elevated to that rank. Prem Bhagat and Arjan Singh remain icons.

During the 1947 Partition of the Indian sub-continent, perhaps the largest forced movement of people in recent times took place — over one crore people went from one side to another, under terrifying circumstances. Some 30 lakh of them were Sikhs, uprooted from West Punjab and often left destitute and traumatised. Partition and the migrations were accompanied by an orgiastic frenzy of numbing violence in which at least 10 lakh Hindus, Muslims and Sikhs were killed. Yet, the Sikhs rose phoenix-like from the ashes, rebuilt their lives and prospered, leaving the bitter past behind them. Punjab soon became the most prosperous and go-ahead state. The loss of Lahore was partly made up by the creation of Chandigarh.

Enterprising, full of life

Two visionary Sikhs, Chief Minister Partap Singh Kairon and civil servant Mohinder Singh Randhawa, headed the stupendous task of resettling the Punjabi refugees and laying the infrastructure of a resurgent Punjab. Institutes like Punjab Agricultural University were set up, paving the way for the transformative Green Revolution of the 1960s, which freed the country of mass hunger and starvation. It also enabled an end to the humiliating import of foodgrains from the USA under the PL480 agreement. The Green Revolution was almost entirely the achievement of Sikh farmers, just as the development of the Terai region from jungle to farmland was.

Indeed, in the 1970s, Sikhs were widely admired for their hard work, initiative and honesty. And, of course, their joie de vivre. Though Punjab had no big businessmen, like the Birlas or Tatas, there were plenty of small industries that were thriving. Sikhs could say with pride that nobody from their community could be seen begging. The Sikhs have always been the butt of ‘Sardarji and Santa Banta’ jokes, but they have invariably been related with affection, never malice, and often made up by the Sikhs themselves!

The slide begins

The downturn for the Sikhs started in the early 1980s, with the rise of militancy. At its centre was an obscure preacher named Jarnail Singh Bhindranwale, who, against the precepts of Guru Nanak, preached violence and was out to create a divide between Hindus and Sikhs. Somehow, his hate-filled preaching appealed to a section of Sikhs. The main Sikh political and religious leaders did not have the guts to take him on, so his influence expanded. 

There was also the spreading drug menace. The Green Revolution had plateaued, and fewer Sikhs were being taken into the armed services. The result? Mass unemployment. From being the number one state, Punjab started to slip downwards. A vacuum was created and honest enterprise and hard work was being replaced by charlatans who had mastered the knack of fooling the gullible and getting rich quick, by whatever means available. Nirmal Singh Bhangoo, from being a milkman, started a ponzi scheme. Unbelievably, he collected Rs 49,000 crores. Witness also the rise of Gurmeet Ram Rahim Singh. Mercifully, he is likewise serving a long jail sentence.

Outside Punjab, too, Sikhs have gained notoriety. I have been following with both alarm and fascination the ongoing saga of the Punjab and Maharashtra Cooperative Bank. It was started, with good intent, by some Mumbai Sikh taxi-drivers. By putting in small amounts, they became shareholders of the bank, thereby getting entitled to loans that regular banks would not give them. The bank grew rapidly. Enter the crooks, in the shape of eight Sikhs who became its directors.

They loaned 70 per cent of the bank’s holding to a dubious entity who, needless to say, has little intention of paying it back. The bank is virtually bankrupt, unable to return their depositors’ money. Meanwhile, Mumbai's papers have been full of his lavish lifestyle, hosting parties and owning a fleet of cars and a private plane — all from the loan that the directors generously sanctioned him.

Shift now to the two Ranbaxy/Religare brothers, Malvinder and Shivinder, and their connection with Gurinder Singh Dhillon, the head of the highly-respected Radha Soami Beas sect. The brothers were responsible for one of the most dramatic collapses of a company. 

And what of  Gurdeep Singh Chadha, or Ponty Chadha! This incredible character, a school dropout, by hook and by crook, amassed a huge empire, starting with selling liquor. Ponty had a mafia-style end, being killed by his brother.

Oh, what a fall, my countrymen!

— The writer is a veteran journalist