On Operation Blue Star's 35th anniversary, examining its historical precedents for Sikhs

When Guru Nanak was returning from his Haj, he stopped in Sayyidpur, a small town in the Punjab, which falls in modern-day Pakistan and is called Eminabad today. He was there to visit with Lalo, one of his beloved disciples. Sayyidpur was reeling from a bloody attack by the army of the Uzbek adventurer Babar [or Babur>, who would go on to establish the mighty Mughal Empire. The gentle prophet was roused to anger by the carnage and he addressed these famous words to Babar:

Kings are hungry lions; their servants rabid dogs Foes of soothing restful sleep; the mindless servile cogs The lackeys of the evil king; waving talon and claw They prey on common gentlefolk; their tender flesh they gnaw

In these words lay the seed of a principle that was to become fundamental to the faith that Guru Nanak founded. An unequivocal commitment to fighting oppression, no matter what the cost. This principle was strengthened by the blood of Guru Arjan, the fifth Sikh master, who refused to bow to the tyranny of the emperor Jahangir, and that of Guru Tegh Bahadur, the ninth, who sacrificed his head in the defense of religious freedom. The sixth Sikh master, Guru Hargobind, established the Akal Takhat as his seat of temporal power at the Sri Harmandir Sahib and from that day onwards, it became a powerful and visible symbol of Sikh sovereignty.

Though this principle has been a source of intense pride for the Sikhs, it has also brought them much pain over the centuries. In the 18th century in particular, as the Mughal empire started to crumble, a power vacuum formed in the Punjab, that the Sikhs eagerly attempted to take advantage of. Great resistance was offered to the likes of Nawab Zakriya Khan and Mir Mannu, Mughal governors who relentlessly tried to break the back of the fledgling community that they saw as a threat. In 1740, Massah Rangarh, a deputy of Zakriya Khan, occupied and desecrated the Sri Harmandir Sahib in an attempt to crush the spirit of the Sikhs.

When Ahmad Shah Abdali, the new king of Afghanistan who saw himself as the overlord of the Punjab, descended from the mountains to plunder, kill and take captives, the only resistance he faced came from bands of Sikhs who were living the principle that Guru Nanak had put forth two centuries earlier. Heavily outnumbered, the Sikhs would employ guerrilla tactics to harry the Afghans as they made their way back, relieving them of their booty and mounting daring raids to free their captives.

Retribution was constant, swift and often cataclysmic. The Afghans would repeatedly attack and desecrate the Sri Harmandir Sahib and the Akal Takhat in an attempt to break the spirit of the Sikhs. The single biggest setback was the Great Holocaust of 1762, referred to as the ‘Vadda Ghallughara’ by the Sikhs, that resulted in the community being decimated. Perpetrated by Ahmad Shah Abdali to teach the Sikhs a lesson, it had the opposite effect, strengthening the resolve of the Sikhs even further.

In 1764, the Afghans attacked again. A large force was bearing down on Amritsar and the Sikhs, fully aware that they would be unable to take the large force head on, were planning to retreat. Abandoning the Sri Harmandir Sahib once again to the advancing hordes was a bitter pill to swallow, but there really didn’t seem to be a choice. The Sikhs were about to be taught a now familiar lesson once again.

As we approach the 35th anniversary of Operation Blue Star, the Indira Gandhi-ordered attack on the Sri Harmandir Sahib and the Akal Takhat (where Jarnail Singh Bhindranwale was headquartered), it is impossible not to place it on the context of Sikh history. Of course, it would be disingenuous or worse to suggest that Mrs Gandhi was hell bent on eliminating the Sikhs. However, it would also be naive to ignore her highly cynical political imperative to teach the Sikhs a lesson.

The complex politics of Punjab leading up to Operation Blue Star cannot be unraveled in this brief reflection, but a few things can be stated clearly. Fortunately they are borne out by reportage and analysis in mainstream Indian media in the 35 years that have elapsed since the attack. The Hindu right had Mrs Gandhi against the ropes for her handling of the ‘Punjab Problem’, characterising her as weak in the face of Sikh militancy. There was only one way for her to get her mojo back.

As a student of history I see a startling similarity between Ahmad Shah Abdali’s thinking in 1764 and Indira Gandhi’s thinking in 1984.

Rattan Singh Bhangu was a 19th century Sikh poet and historian who wrote the monumental Sri Guru Granth Prakash, a detailed history of the Sikhs, in verse. Interestingly he was descended from a Sikh hero named Mehtab Singh, who had retaliated against Massa Ranghar for the desecration of the Sri Harmandir Sahib.

In episode 156 of his opus, Bhangu tells the rousing tale of Gurbaksh Singh, a Sikh warrior, who decided to resist the invaders as they approached the Sri Harmandar Sahib. I have attempted more or less to be faithful to Rattan Singh Bhangu’s narrative but this is not a word-by-word translation; I have instead attempted to capture the spirit of Rattan Singh Bahngu’s poetry.

Chaupai (Quatrain):

Young man of steel this warrior brave Steadfast and sober dressed in blue Rises at dawn and drains his cup And girds up for the coming day Prayers are said in early morn Proud turban does his head adorn To shining steel he bows his head Before it’s on his person borne A chain of steel around his neck Shining bracelets upon his wrists Quoits of steel upon his head Together his impervious shield Gloves of steel, a mighty club Breeches that hang down to his knees On his breast a coat of mail Resplendent is The Warrior brave

Dohra (couplet):

A leader true, always out front His men forming his glorious train Wherever he would plant his flag His men so steadfast would remain

Dohra (couplet):

In forests and in place strange The fleeing Sikhs in misery dwelt And pondering their pitiful state Their pain the mighty warrior felt

Chaupai (Quatrain):

The Sikhs gathered for evening prayers In the shade of the Timeless Tower cool To leave the town was the sacred writ Save Warriors by the sacred pool Was heard the mighty Warrior roar Is there today one single man? To valiantly pick up the sword In the name of the ever glorious Lord The Sikhs then spoke in a single voice None here is worthier or more brave You are the one, young warrior strong The Lord will hear your rousing song

Dohra (couplet):

Hearing this then The Warrior bows His hands in fervent prayer joined With folded hands and pendent head The maiden Death agrees to wed

Chaupai (Quatrain):

Meanwhile the Giljis gird their loins As they get word of the massing Singhs They don their armor helmets and mail Sikh warriors have none of these things To their teeth are the mighty Giljis armed Ready to lay the Singhs to waste Arrows pistols and muskets long Readied and primed with savage haste The Singhs are armed with fighting words Some have daggers, some double edged swords Many have naught but rustic clubs And yet they press, eager to fight Some Singhs are mounted on their steeds Jockey and twist to lead the charge To each other solemnly swear That each will lead the pack by far

Chaupai (Quatrain):

The war drum beats; standard is raised With music divine is the Master praised The minstrels sing sweet songs of bliss Till the warriors too have had their fill The Giljis march at break of dawn And bear down upon the eager Singhs Some steadfast sit on noble mounts Foot soldiers too; they hold their ground And where they stand they give their lives For how could they stop such a mighty horde And as they leave for their final abode The Singhs who live give battle fierce The Singhs are by the Giljis ringed Kill them! Kill them! Like wolves they bay Louder is heard the Warrior’s roar Dig in! Show them the martyr’s way

Dohra (couplet):

Honor there is in pressing forth Just as in holding back is shame When hostile swords around you sing It’s time to prove a warrior’s worth

Chaupai (Quatrain):

Hearing these words the warriors bound And lion-like on the Giljis pounce Where else can such valor be found They care no more for life or limb Press on! Press on The Warrior roars Drink your fill of the martyrs brew Your sylvan dreams of paradise In martyrdom you will realize If you wish to be an eternal king The maiden, Death, you must embrace Reborn you shall be! As a mighty Singh Of your enemies there will be no trace Sallied forth his most valiant men We are best men! You are the groom We will follow you to paradise And with you we will gladly rule

Dohra (couplet):

For heaven we care not one whit Our bonds of brotherhood are enough A noble death fighting we crave As we send our foes to a fiery grave

Chaupai (Quatrain):

And then The Warrior gravely says A solemn oath I now do swear As I set foot in the Guru’s court To pieces will I the Giljis tear My fearless brothers, now you take heart You will be Singhs again reborn And once again does The Warrior say Embrace your death! Your enemies flay The Giljis are back with fearsome force The Singhs fight back their heels dug in In their heads no thoughts of retreat As slowly back Giljis they beat Like a lion’s roar The Warrior’s cry Let not today your purpose pale For your faith you fight this noble fight Dismount and with your swords prevail

Dohra (couplet):

These words beyond the Giljis’ ken Their muskets rain a hail of lead Steadfast men falling to the ground Beholds The Warrior all around

Chaupai (Quatrain):

The Warrior swings his mighty sword A fearsome Gilji whistling smites Pierces his armor; rips his breast And many more soldiers he fights Audaciously the Singhs advance For a moment mighty Giljis yield With practiced ease they lightly dance Each man sheltered behind his shield Contemptuous look on his noble face His shield, The Warrior tosses away The Giljis charge with flashing swords Undaunted Singhs! They join the fray Eyelids un-batted heads unbowed No backward glance! Singhs charge ahead The Giljis take to their heels cowed So furious is their attack

Dohra (couplet):

From a distance Gilji guns let loose And arrows whistle through the air Singhs spout blood from countless wounds To shreds their flesh do Gilji’s tear

Chaupai (Quatrain):

The bullets they pierce their flesh and bone The Singhs fight on heedless of pain Their bodies spew a rush of blood Like from an oil press flows a flood The Warrior too profusely bleeds Water spurting from a ruptured pouch As on and on as he marches forth Like fountains do the gashes spout As more and more of his life blood seeps His weary body starts to rebel Yet The Warrior thinks not of retreat That shame to him is worse than Hell To the Lord he prays at this moment dark Save me O Lord! Save me from shame Accept my humble sacrifice He begs as he chants his master’s Name

Dohra (couplet):

The Gilji horde just swells and swells Fresh fighters now their ranks enhance With fury fall upon the Singhs And rend their foes with spear and lance

Chaupai (Quatrain):

The Warrior mighty swings his sword Slices through many a lance The Giljis dare not come too close Away from flashing sword they prance

Dohra (couplet):

Not one Singh did that day retreat Nor cast his eye towards the rear No one shall ever dare to say That even one ran from the fray

Chaupai (Quatrain):

Warrior assailed! So many spears! As the Giljis strive to make him yield And though he’s fallen on his knee They cannot from his hand sword free

Kundaliya Chhand:

He grips his sword in bloody hand But his mind is now roiled by doubt If I cast my sword on the sand Will they spare me a man unarmed If I yield I’m sure I will live But all this blood will be for naught This glorious moment for sure will pass The time to sacrifice is now Thus The Warrior girds his loins Makes up his mind to never bow May my head from my trunk be cleaved Hither! Sweet sword! No one bereaved

Chaupai (Quatrain):

He picks up his sword; mightily roars A challenge to the Gilji horde His neck is bare begs to be hacked Just like was Ninth Master attacked A Gilji bravo swings his blade The Warrior’s head is no more nigh The Lord is kind: a promise made The Singhs can hold their heads up high Of warriors past and martyrs’ sprites Their joyous ranks The Warrior joins Into their waiting arms he’s borne Chariots divine with pennants flying They come for him on prancing steeds Bejeweled saddles! There is a slew Beating war drums flying flags In dazzling robes of electric blue

Chaupai (Quatrain):

Tired Giljis in slumber deep The Singhs make off with many a steed And on their camp they fiercely sweep Writhing in the dust the Giljis bleed At break of dawn the Giljis flee Make haste to catch up with their king In the light of day the Singhs behold Brethren in heaps their bodies cold And as the beaten foes retreat More Singhs appear upon the scene It looks as if the earth has bled Or coloured red by the warriors dead The Singhs come up with a common plan With honor they will treat every man By the Timeless Tower a pyre is lit By dancing flames Singhs solemnly sit

Dohra (couplet):

On the mighty fire are the martyrs laid Fallen comrades gallant band The Singhs prepare a sacred feast Received humbly by every hand

Chaupai (Quatrain):

Ashes to ashes dust to dust Their bodies fallen heroes leave Their souls rise up to meet the Lord And join the martyrs’ eternal horde The Singhs joyously chant in praise Blessed are fathers, such sons who raise To the warriors is built a glorious shrine Wishes are fulfilled every day Such is the glory of this shrine Many a malady has it cured And so great is its power benign Forgotten is all pain endured

I have read many accounts of the aftermath of Operation Blue Star. The images they conjure up are eerily similar to the ones that rise from Bhangu’s poetry.

The similarity does not end there.

Ahmad Shah Abdali’s large force carried the day in 1764 as did Mrs Gandhi’s in 1984. Both ‘victories’ were spectacularly Pyrrhic.

Note: The translations of the hymn by Guru Nanak as well as Rattan Singh Bhangu’s poetry are my own.

Sarbpreet Singh  is a poet, playwright, and commentator with a career in technology. He is the author of The Camel Merchant of Philadelphia (Tranquebar/Westland Publications).