Martyrdom and the Sikh tradition.

• Author: Fenech, Louis E.

In the early days of my life I heard much about Shahid Bhagat Singh and Baba Dip Singh in dhadhi gatherings. Wherever there were such gatherings I used to attend. I've always listened to [dhadhi] songs. Listening to them gave me a lot of strength. Listening to our people's history is important to us.(1)

In 1739 Nadir Shah, the emperor of Persia, was returning to Iran after having sacked Delhi. According to Rattan Singh Bhangu's mid-nineteenth-century Gur-panth Prakas (The History of the Guru's Community), the shah, during his brief stop in Punjab, was greatly annoyed at the losses Punjabi highwaymen were inflicting upon his booty-laden baggage trains. Incensed at their audacity, the shah asked Zakariya Khan, the governor of Lahore, to describe the perpetrators of these dating raids. The governor's answer, according to Bhangu, noted the endurance and rare courage of these bandits; their ability to bear all the punishment he could muster and yet, in spite of this, continue to increase in number; and their extraordinary altruism, despite such hardship. He closed with the following enthusiastic statement:

ek hoi tam sau sau laraim(2) marane te vai mul na daraim rahai chau un maran ko din mazhab kai bhai ham marat ul thak gae ui ghatat na kitahum dai(3)

One [of them] battles like a hundred warriors. Death is something of which they are not afraid. Their [fondest] desire remains to die for their faith. We are tired of killing them, but their numbers do not decrease.

It is the Sikhs about whom the khan is speaking. And although this exchange appears in an account with a proSikh bias, Zakariya Khan's opinion regarding the character of the adherents of gurmat (the Guru's teaching), especially their contempt for death, is a generalization we also find in eighteenth- and nineteenth-century Persian manuscripts - albeit with a strong pro-Muslim bias(4) - and early European accounts dealing with the Sikhs. Meeting with Sikhs for the first time in 1805, for example, John Malcolm quotes from a "contemporary Muhammedan author":

. . . the Sikh horsemen were seen riding, at full gallop, towards "their favourite shrine of devotion. They were often slain in making this attempt, and sometimes taken prisoners; but they used, on such occasions, to seek, instead of avoiding, the crown of martyrdom:["] and the same authority states, ["]that an instance was never known of a Sikh, taken in his way to Amritsar, consenting to abjure his faith."(5)

Of course, the Sikhs to whom Malcolm alludes are those of the khalsa (pure) variety. It is well known that Sikh warriors of the eighteenth century often chose a Khalsa identity, and it was principally as soldiers that our Persian and British authors encountered these disciples of the Guru.(6) Yet despite this fact most Sikhs today would consider such descriptions of eighteenth-century Sikhs in general accurate - and which, moreover, they would extend to contemporary Sikhs. The specific characteristic with which we are concerned is both Bhangu's and Malcolm's emphasis upon the Sikh desire to don "the crown of martyrdom."

To many contemporary Khalsa and non-Khalsa (or sahaj-dhari) Sikhs the Sikh sahid or martyr is a highly revered figure, an unambiguous exemplar of virtue, truth, and moral justification. Sikh sahids give their lives in upholding righteousness (dharam) under the most painful and chilling circumstances, providing testimony (sahadat) to their faith with their blood. As with Christian and Muslim "witnesses to the truth" the unsought-for reward Sikh martyrs receive for such stalwart and courageous behavior in the face of torture and imminent death is liberation from the cycle of existence, union with God (Akal Purakh, "The One Beyond Time"). Sahids thus become the ideal Sikh athletes of piety, offering a glorious example of resistance to tyrannical authority, while paying the ultimate price for their powerful commitment to the Sikh faith, its doctrines, symbols, and Gurus.

According to a strong Sikh tradition the concept of martyrdom (sahadat, also sahidi) in Sikhism was first established by the Sikh Gurus, in particular Guru Nanak (1469-1539 C.E.) and Guru Gobind Singh (1666-1708 C.E.), and sustained by two Guru-martyrs and countless brave Sikhs who suffered death fighting tyranny in the face of an overwhelming enemy.(7) Sahadat is thus believed to represent a fundamental institution within the Sikh tradition, one present since the faith's very inception in the fifteenth century. There is perhaps no better testament to the current Sikh fascination with martyrs and martyrdom than the reference these valiant heroes receive in the contemporary Sikh Ardas (petition), a prayer recited by the Sikh sarigat (congregation) at the end of most rituals. Consisting of three brief parts the second portion of Ardas enjoins Sikhs to call to mind the sacrifices their brethren are believed to have made in the past. For this reason we may assume that its words are firmly lodged in the minds and understanding of its reciters and listeners? The relevant portion of Ardas appears below.

jinham singham singhniam ne dharam het sis dite, band band katae, khopriam luhaiam, charkhiam te charhe, ariam nal chirae gae, gurdwariam di seva lai kurbaniam kitiam, dharam nahim haria, sikhi kesam suasam nal nibahi, tinham di kamai da dhian dhar ke, khalsa jt bolo ji vahiguru!(9)

Those male and female Singhs who gave their heads for the faith; who were torn limb from limb, scalped, broken on the wheel, and sawn asunder; who sacrificed their lives for the protection of the sacred gurdwaras, never abandoning their faith; and who zealously guarded the sacred kes of the true Sikh: O valiant Khalsa, keep your attention on their merits and call on God, saying Vahigura.(10)

No doubt, as the quote with which this paper begins implies, such rousing statements of heroic endurance and bravery continue to inspire the modern-day Sikh community, particularly in the light of the intense strife surrounding the tragic events of 4 June 1984.(11)

But has this always been the case? Although there are sporadic references to Ardas throughout eighteenth- and early- to mid-nineteenth-century Sikh literature it is not until the mid-twentieth century that the Ardas assumed the form it has today. The values that it communicates am principally twentieth-century ones, standards established, in large part, by the late-nineteenth-century Sikh "reform" movement, the Singh Sabha (Singh Society). As Harjot Oberoi has shown, today's dominant Sikh narrative was largely a product of this group's intellectual effort (especially that of its more vocal group the Tat [or "True"] Khalsa), informed in part through dialogue with Western Orientalism. (12) One may thus assume that the current Sikh understanding of the martyr noted above, the suffering Sikh extolled in Ardas, is a category refined by and refracted through the lens of the Tat Khalsa.(13) One must therefore ask two questions: are a concept of martyrdom and the Sikh reverence towards its martyrs characteristics that can be traced throughout the history of the Sikh people? Is the image of the martyr we have in Ardas the image we find prior to the late nineteenth century? Let us begin by examining the earliest historical evidence for martyrdom in the Sikh tradition.

For many scholars the Sikh emphasis on martyrdom begins with the execution of the fifth Sikh Master, Guru Arian (d. 1606 C.E.): a watershed event, according to Sikh tradition, which led to the transformation of the Sikh panth (lit., "path") from a quietist community to an armed and militant one. The traditional version of this event is indeed a persuasive one, bringing us in touch with some of most admirable aspects of human behavior, as well as some of the most sinister and repugnant. According to this version, the zealously Islamic Mughal emperor Jahangir (r. 1605-27 C.E.), distressed at the popularity of the fifth Guru and the rapid growth of his community of "infidels," had long cherished a desire to rid his empire of this pretentious holy man. The opportunity presented itself when the emperor's disloyal son, Khusrau, arrived in the Guru's camp and was graciously received by the fifth Sikh Master. As a gesture of goodwill, Guru Arian placed a saffron mark on Khusrau's forehead, wishing him good fortune on his journey. Interpreted by Jahangir as an overt sign of support for Khusrau's rival claim to the Mughal throne, the emperor quickly had Guru Arjan arrested and imprisoned in Lahore in 1606.(14) While in jail the fifth Sikh Guru was often beaten in order to persuade him to convert to Islam and to incorporate into the recently compiled Sikh scripture, the Adi Granth (First/Primal Book), hymns in praise of the Prophet Muhammad. The Guru repeatedly declined these requests and was finally forced to sit upon a red-hot iron plate in the scorching heat of the Indian summer while white-hot sand was poured over his body. To the chagrin of his gaolers Guru Arjan bore this punishment with an extraordinary steadfastness and bravery - made all the more impressive by his recital of hymns while undergoing the ordeal. Eventually, the Guru's body was unable to bear further torture and gave up its spirit in a display of heroism that has certainly etched itself onto the popular Sikh imagination.(15)

This, of course, represents the current understanding of the fifth Guru's execution and any attempt to question it is met with harsh criticism nowadays by pious Sikhs and traditional scholars of Sikh history.(16) Perhaps the scholar most criticized for questioning this event is W. H. McLeod.(17) However, McLeod's hesitance to accept the traditional interpretation of Guru Arian's death is wholly justified in light of the contemporary evidence in which reference to the Guru's ordeal is found.(18) There are three principal sources, contemporary and near contemporary, which allude to this event, and these three form the base upon which the traditional...