Columnists

Of Laws & Conventions

by I.J. SINGH

An endless debate has recently been riding the Internet.

There is no question that today, and for the past three hundred years, male Sikhs have been known by their unshorn hair, beards and turbans.  And during the past three decades, an increasing number of Sikh women - still a very small but significant number, particularly outside India - are also opting to wear a turban.

Many Sikhs, though, have abandoned these historic articles of their faith.  They may find them inconvenient at work or socially.  Or, more likely, they have developed what they see as a rational belief system devoid of external symbols and markers.  Without becoming judgmental, I could venture that perhaps some of them may never have had the opportunity to develop a more intimate relationship with Sikhi. 

I don't really know and, more importantly, the why of this is not at all relevant to this discussion today.  What brought me to this question is how it is often played out in our society and in academia.

Sometimes it is claimed that on Vaisakhi 1699, when the formal markers of initiation into the Khalsa were instituted, there was no requirement of long hair or turbans mandated by Guru Gobind Singh. Protagonists and antagonists of this view cite, or fail to cite, authoritative writings of that time.  They aggressively push their contrary points of view, but do not unequivocally lay the matter to rest.

Then there are those who further aver that the practice of mandating unshorn hair and turbans for Sikhs is a result of the activities of the Singh Sabha only in the past century  - a movement that played a pivotal role in defining and collating the fundamentals of the Sikh Code of Conduct (Rehat Maryada). 

This document, which was originally formulated in the early 20^th century, has now become the protocol that regulates Sikh life today.  Those who can't or won't abide by its requirements consider the law onerous.  Since no Guru, they contend, stated a formal code for a Sikh life, and nor can they trust an authoritative document of that time saying so, clearly then there should be no such requirement today.

Disagreements often become hot and heavy and the fur flies on both sides of the spectrum; each side cites non-existent or unknown dates and documents of dubious authenticity to prove its point.  It would be entertaining if only it were not so self-destructive for the community.

Both sides of the argument agree that in the Indian culture, irrespective of whether one was a Hindu or a Muslim, a turban was worn by a man of substance.  Even now, when almost no Hindus or Moslems wear turbans (except Osama and his cohorts from the Arab world), most men of either religion often continue to be adorned with a turban at least twice in their lives  - at their own marriage and death.

The naysayers ask: Isn't it possible then that, as many non-recognizable Sikhs and even some academicians assert, the Sikh turban and the unshorn hair reflect those cultural realities and that they were never meant to be religious requirements?

I believe that the argument is untenable; but, additionally, it ignores a fundamental of how communities, societies and nations develop their social fabric and legal framework.

Traditions and laws don't come out of thin air; they reflect the practices and values of a people. 

It is fascinating to see how unwritten and perhaps not-so-universal habitual practices loosely knit a people into communities.  And then how these practices over time become traditions - habits of the heart - that define a people.  The final step occurs when these binding traditions become enshrined into law.

Let me illustrate my position with an example from a strong, vibrant, living society. 

Let's look at the 22^nd Amendment of the Constitution of the United States.  This is the amendment that restricts a person to no more than two consecutive terms as the president of the country.  How, why and when did it come about?

This country is over two hundred years old, but this amendment has a relatively short and recent history. 

The first President, George Washington, was immensely popular.  He deliberately rejected the trappings of royalty. History tells us that he was offered a third term, and he would have been easily elected to it. (Anointed would be more accurate!). But he steadfastly rebuffed the temptation. 

His successors, Adams, Jefferson, Madison, and others, saw the virtue in his action, and also refused to entertain the possibility of a third term.  Ulysses Grant might have been the first president to actively seek a third term, but his own party declined to nominate him.  Teddy Roosevelt also tried with similar results; had he won, admittedly, his would have been a non-consecutive term.

This idea of not seeking a third term was not a provision in the Constitution then, but for almost 200 years, with the few exceptions noted, no sitting president actively sought it.

In 1940, the nation was at war.  There was hesitation in changing the Commander-in-Chief in the middle of a war.  Perhaps that's why Franklin Delano Roosevelt sought and won, after his second term, a third and fourth consecutive terms. 

Perhaps the nation recognized that a long-standing habit that had become a strong tradition had now been contravened.  Soon after the death of FDR (while he still held office), the 22^nd amendment limiting the office to two terms was passed by the U.S. Congress on March 21, 1947.  Its adoption as law required a long process of ratification by two-thirds of the states; the amendment became law when adopted by 36 states, four years later, only on February 27, 1951.

What was the reason for the law?

The underlying fear in a young nation seems to have been that of enabling a leader to become a dictator, even if he/she is the most benevolent, popular or wise.

What I wish to do here is to draw your attention to the process of how a convention starting with George Washington became a revered tradition for almost two centuries and then, when it seemed at risk, became mandated as law.

What does this particular amendment to the U.S. Constitution have to do with Sikh practices?

Returning now to the matter of unshorn hair and turbans for Sikhs: one can see that it may have once been simply a matter of cultural habit or convention, particularly of people of some standing in the community, and of the landed gentry. 

There is no doubt, however, that by the time of Guru Gobind Singh, this practice was more than just a simple convention; it had become an ingrained tradition for the Sikhs. 

For proof, I point to the innumerable Sikhs who accepted martyrdom rather than cut their hair.  I remind you of the time when a Sikh scalp with its unshorn hair carried a price.

A hundred years before the Singh Sabha movement, in the times of Maharaja Ranjit Singh, who ruled a large swath of North India and its surroundings with such success, Sikhs were recognized by their long, unshorn hair and turbans.  And more than fifty years before Ranjit Singh, Sikhs who fought alongside Banda Singh Bahadar are remembered for their long, unshorn hair.

The tradition continued unabated, even during the hundred years of British rule over Punjab.

The Singh Sabha therefore did not invent the tradition, as is sometimes alleged; it merely explored and recognized the historicity of the unbroken practice and defined it as a deeply and continuously held Sikh belief and tradition.

The next consistent step was a logical one: to give this tradition the legally binding stamp of authority.  And that's what the Sikh Code of Conduct (Rehat Maryada) did.  This happened after a long process akin to a national conversation lasting about twenty years.

Laws are not handed down from higher authority, except in autocracies and dictatorships.  In a free people, laws evolve from and reflect a history of shared values.  Then they become the glue that binds a people together.

This process is exactly how practices morph into traditions and then get enshrined into law. 

Once they become law, good citizens obey them.  Change follows a very long, drawn-out and arduous process that mandates introspection, a prolonged national dialogue, and a building of consensus.

And any change that results must be consistent with the fundamentals that remain constant. 

For instance, it would not be logical or sensible to construct Christianity without Jesus, or Judaism without its Ten Commandments or its other requirements.

This would be an intriguing exploration that I leave to another time.

September 5, 2008

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