Amid my research on the Khalistan Movement, I have come across a number of case studies which paints that the livelihoods of Sikhs living in the U.K. was marred especially for those living here in the early years following the exit of the Britishers from the historical Sikh Homeland, the Panjab.
Following the declaration of war against the Sikh Nation by the Indian State, Sikhs in the diaspora did all they could in light of ever-changing circumstances in the Panjab. The Sikhs formed a government in exile, created a ‘Shaheedi Fund’ to support families affected by state terrorism amongst many other things. Those involved in these activities were deprived of visiting the homeland for many years following June 1984, and in effect they were ‘blacklisted’.
With this blacklist, many elders could not return to see their parents/family members or attend funerals. The trauma of this can still be seen on the faces of those elders who this applies too. On one hand, Sikhs were being exterminated day by day and on the other, their Sikh siblings living in the Diaspora could not do much but to understand, that they were public enemy number one.
That trauma still exists, but in this post, I want to analyse and home-in problems in which the Sikhs in Britain faced and continue to face. This idea of the Sikh identity/appearance, in this day and age is now very fluid whereby Sikhs who may not keep unshorn hair or follow Sikh beliefs will still regard themselves as Sikhs. But it was the appearance of unshorn hair tied in a knot under a Dastaar, that was targeted and is still targeted.
I remember my secondary school days well and I remember a class mate had one day entered the school premises without his unshorn hair tied in a ‘top-knot’. I remember i felt a mix of emotion of both anger and of sadness. I remember speaking to this figure and I asked him why? His response was quite feeble but when one unpeels the look in his eyes, the wider picture seemed to emerge in front of me.
In my class at secondary school, though there were 10+ or so Sikh boys, I was the only one who kept unshorn hair. I remember when I was 13 or so, and my Patka (bandana) came off whilst at school, unfortunately at this time, I hadn’t taken lessons from my parents on how to tie a Patka and hence I sat with my white Rumaal on show. I strangely remember my form tutor staring at my top-knot with glee; and she was maybe trying to workout where this knot of hair came from or how my supposed ‘transformation’ came about.
I always fretted swimming as well in those days, I was a non-swimmer and often had difficultly in ensuring the swimming cap encapsulated the diameter around my head. I remember thinking that if all the Sikh lads had kept their hair unshorn, things would have been much easier to my benefit and to our collective benefits. I only really heard two slurs or so during my school life, I was called a ‘turnip head’ and I was told I couldn’t afford a hair cut but from growing up in a town with a large populace of Sikhs, I guess I had it easy compared to other children in other locations.
I remember an old school friend describing her past at a school prior to joining sixth form. She narrated how her and her brother were one of very few Asians at her school and on one occasion her father was labelled a Terrorist by fellow school children for having a turban on his head. She also told me that, her younger brother had the desire to keep unshorn hair but amid this, he was labelled as a girl.
In contrast with this, one of my younger cousins who was brought up in Southall had his hair cut despite living in a town often dubbed as the ‘mini Panjab’ and as such, there is a wider dynamic at play and upbringing alongside geographical demographics does definitely play a large role in this.
In 1976, the killing of the young Sardar Gurdip Singh Chagger on June 4th sent shockwaves around the world. Chagger was 19years old when he was stabbed to death in Southall. Two white youths carried out this attack and both were only jailed for four years each on the charge of manslaughter, court proceedings and the deliverance of this charge would take a whole year to come about. Gurdip Singh was stabbed through the lungs and one can sort of imagine the final minutes/seconds Gurdip Singh went through at that injunction. Passers by would observe that the pavement where the killing took place ‘was stained with blood.’ (TOI 06/06/1976)
I find it ironic upon reading that the Deputy Indian High Commissioner visited Southall to offer condolences to the parents of Gurdip Singh, for eight years after the murder of Gurdip Singh, the Indian state he was representing would unleash an extermination campaign against Sikh youth as if they were vermin.
The Sikh Students’ Federation with other organisations organised a protest on the 4th July in Hyde Park. Coaches were sent from the Ramgharia Gurdwara on Oswald Road in Southall to the park, a day after the funeral of Gurdip Singh (3rd July.) Gurdip Singh was a member of the Federation and was studying at the Southall College of Technology. Mr Shigbat Kadri, a community leader along with 24 other Bangladeshi, Pakistani and ‘Indian’ community leaders had appealed to Mrs Thatcher to make a statement denouncing the killing of Chagger but to no avail. Mr Kadri stated that ‘to our utter shock and horror we have not even received a reply’.
On November 11th, 1989 Kuldip Singh Sekhon, a cab driver was set upon and stabbed 54 times (44 of these were to the head) and proved the fact that racial violence does still exist which was further exemplified with the stabbing of Dr Bhambra in 2015.
The Sikhs faced much hardship in the 80s, on one side Sikhs would be massacres openly in ‘India’ whilst the British Government and other foreign government would watch by idly. On the other hand in the U.K., Sikhs faced a hardship of a different kind as shown in the various pictures and subsequent news clipping.
The first time I had a Dastaar tied on my head was at the young age of 13, I remember feeling ecstatic on this occasion and I still feel this ecstasy every morning as I tie my 10metre long Dastaar. For many, this piece of cloth will remain a piece of cloth but for a Sikh, it is a testament of ones faith and with each ‘lahr’ (or pleat) exists stories of our collective predecessors.
Simranjeet S. Rahi
18/07/2020
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