1984

Gurbaksh Singh's Struggle for Justice

KIRPA KAUR

Nineteen days ago, India joined the world in mourning the passing of Nelson Mandela, South African President and anti-apartheid revolutionary whose armed resistance and leadership earned him the label of “terrorist”.

He was imprisoned by the state for 27 years.

India’s Prime Minister Manmohan Singh stated: "A giant among men has passed away. This is as much India's loss as South Africa's. He was a true Gandhian. His life and work will remain a source of eternal inspiration for generations to come ..."

It’s been 41 days since a Sikh farmer decided to launch a hunger strike unto death at Gurdwara Amb Sahib in Mohali, Punjab, to protest the illegal imprisonment of Sikh political prisoners who have been denied any legally mandated review of their cases.

The Indian authorities remain silent.

BBC Radio noted that while the protest has caught the attention of the world, and electrified the populace of Punjab, the mainstream media in India has remained largely silent on the issue, in compliance with government authorities, and the public at large remains ignorant.

Given India’s recent reflections on the late Nelson Mandela’s life and now his death, it is quite ironic that the Indian media so quickly defaults to referring to Sikh activists like Gurbaksh Singh as “radicals”, at best. Especially, given his repeated statement that as a Sikh he asks only for “sarbat da bhalla,” the well-being of all (really, all!), and that it is the steadfast spirit of his path.

In anti-Sikh and anti-minority dialogue, there is a deep sense of apathy; almost as if fighting for justice is a nuisance left for a lesser class destined to be marginalized for irritatingly taking up political space. In Gurbaksh Singh’s case, intermittent commentary continues to paint his history of political imprisonment as justification to both muzzle and render him guilty whilst reinforcing marginalization of the issue.  

For Gurbaksh Singh, his imprisonment acts as quite the contrary. Having been charged with cases for his political activism post 1984, for example serving years for merely wearing a turban in the banned color of kesri (saffron), he was moved to speak out, alarmed that political prisoners were languishing without due review of their cases, many of whom have already long served their illegal and oppressive sentences. 

Gurbaksh Singh is demanding the long overdue review and release of Sikh prisoners caught up in the post 1984 cycles of political oppression and violence.

The core issue, as human rights activists who know Punjab best have pointed out, is that the law is applied one way for political prisoners, especially those of minorities, and another way for everyone else.

It is simply disappointing, to say the least, for a country that continues to market itself as the “largest democracy in the world” and align itself with the true freedom fighters of the 20th century, such as Nelson Mandela, it chooses to persecute those who stand for the very values it proclaims globally.  

To be frank, as a Sikh, my first reaction to the hunger strike was one of dissonance. I questioned: was Gurbaksh Singh’s self-inflicting his body in the hope of gain the attention of Indian officials, or shaming them?

If so, this did not quite feel like the Sikh way. With fearless love (nirbhao), our tradition is to stand up for what is right and reason our way through to the end. I reflected that any positive response to a hunger strike would be short-lived and  without systemic change based on principles and values. And in a sense, reinforce corrupt power dynamics.  

Yet, one cannot ignore that Sikhs and other minorities have learnt repeatedly that standing up for justice is a dangerous and deadly endeavor in India. Even the regular channels of the law are dehumanizing and often fraught with grave ramifications for oneself and one’s community. 

With these thoughts in mind, I reflect on the fact that for the Sikh community, knocking on the door of (in)justice has resulted in long unanswered / suspended-in-time / painfully anguishing despair for years. For the families with missing members, for example, in village after village, town after town, city after city, the knocks have not only gone unanswered, rather those in power have turned them away.

It’s no secret, it’s almost become a seasonal fad for India to guess which perpetrator of violence will be promoted next within government circles as minister or official? The current discourse on the country’s potential Prime Ministers -- there is an election around the corner --  is case in point. 

And then there is the fact that Gurbaksh Singh has experienced first hand the arm of law betraying him when he sought its legal support in this non-violent movement; in fact, it literally beat, confined and tried to silence him as he protested through entirely legal means.

After being physically assaulted by local authorities he asked, in a very poignant interview: “Assi jabbar da jawaab sabar naal deh rahe haa(n), sabar naal vi nahee(n) tikkan dende, hor kitthey jaayi-ye?”

[We are responding to force with patience. If they don’t even let us do that, where should we go?]

Taking this all in, I read Gurbaksh Singh’s action as a last resort. He has put a gun to his own head and while he slowly pulls the trigger, he hopes to bring attention to the injustices and to recall those that have been forgotten; to name those that have remained nameless for so long and to voice the anguish of their families.

And this, I can understand, admire and respect.

With Gurbaksh Singh’s courage and resolve, we are being reminded of our duty to not forget the unseen and to recognize each of ourselves as conduits of potential change and a community that is to continually seek "sarbat da bhalla" -- the good of all humanity. I only hope that we don’t stop at the release of six wronged prisoners, rather use this as a catalyst to continue powerful, disruptive and impactful dialogue on the treatment of all minorities in India from Chhattisgarh to Gujarat, from Orissa to Punjab.

As the late Nelson Mandela once said, “For to be free is not merely to cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others.”


[The author is a director of the Sikh Feminist Research Institute. She is currently pursuing a Master’s degree in Educational and Curriculum Practices at the University of British Columbia, Vancouver, Canada.]


[Courtesy: Straight. Edited for sikhchic.com]

December 27, 2013

read other articles in 1984