Operation Blue Star: Trauma and lessons
A crucial lesson of the violence in Punjab is that given India’s plurality, regional aspirations have to be blended with the mainstream
The bullet-ridden Granth Sahib and a model of a dilapidated Akal Takht on display at Golden Temple these days are reminders of the catastrophic Operation Blue Star. Its 40th anniversary is an occasion to introspect on what happened and why.
Given Punjab’s centuries-old propensity for cyclic mayhem, Punjabis and the political establishment must not repeat past mistakes. The geopolitical curse of Punjab as a gateway of India and the many invasions it suffered has made its people martial and has left them with an inbuilt anti-Delhi Darbar disposition and a predilection to resist what they call jabar zanaha (excesses). Ingrained in their psyche is a perpetual sense of being discriminated against and the misplaced conviction that jo ade so mitey (whosoever obstructs will be eliminated).
Constitutional politics, however, do not operate on such proclivities. Democracy is governance by politics to maximise the vote share. The Punjab of today is hopelessly marginalised with just 2.3% of India’s population, and Sikhs are still fewer, at 1.7% of the nation. The way to fulfil their regional aspirations, therefore, is not the civil strife and militancy of yesteryears that led to Operation Blue Star, but to mainstream the remnants of militancy. In that context, the participation of the self-declared proponents of Khalistan like Amritpal Singh (in detention under the National Security Act) in the recent Lok Sabha elections is a welcome development: Amritpal Singh, and Sarabjeet Singh Khalsa, son of Indira Gandhi’s assassin, Beant Singh, have been elected to the Lok Sabha as independent candidates. They swore allegiance to the Constitution before entering the electoral process and even if they continue with their ideological hubbubs, it has to be within the confines of freedom of speech as the Constitution imagines it.
A crucial lesson of the two decades of violence in Punjab is that given India’s plurality, regional aspirations have to be blended with the mainstream, just as the nation has to respect and accommodate the identities and interests of its diverse multitudes. Steamrolling grievances and aspirations or using military power, without politically addressing the underlying socioeconomic causes of unrest, breeds discontent and dissent. It is not the road map to take the nation forward, particularly when issues of faith and sacrosanct spaces are interwoven with regional aspirations, as was the situation at the time of Operation Blue Star.
Blue Star, in fact, is an example of how not to undertake nation-building. Rather than uniting, it divided the people and sowed the seeds of a violent ethno-national movement. Jarnail Singh Bhindranwale had never openly demanded Khalistan, but believed that its foundation would be laid if the Army attacked the Golden Temple. Post Blue Star, for the first time, a mythical sovereign state of Khalistan was formed within the precincts of the Golden Temple by the Panthic Committee, the executive body of militants created to negate the statutory Shiromani Gurdwara Parbandhak Committee (SGPC). It formed an armed force, Khalistan Commando Force (KCF), and declared war against the State. Punjab suffered incalculable losses and turmoil, necessitating frequent armed forays into the Temple complex, including Operation Black Thunder 1 and 2.
The ethno-national movement has petered out since, but its seeds sprout abroad sporadically, setting off alarm bells. Today, the Panthic assertion is spread internationally. However, Khalsa’s bol bala or pre-eminence, can only be achieved through excellence in various fields and making a mark in the world in the true spirit of sarbat da bhala (prosperity to all) and not by violence or the outmoded models of Westphalian territorial sovereignty. In any case, where would the Panthic territorial sovereignty be headquartered — in Lahore, the historical capital of Khalsa, or the modern-day Sikh concentrations of Surrey or Brampton?
One lesson of the Punjab violence is that human rights are inviolable. The radical elements abroad exploit these issues under western multiculturalism, and it is in our national interest to abide by the rule of law and not just the procedure established by law. Supercop KPS Gill’s strategy to physically eliminate the militants without conceding to any of their demands rooted out violence but also bred a culture of extrajudicial methods. Even 40 years later, news of the conviction of officials for “disappearance”— a euphemism for fake encounters — keeps appearing. Our conduct must conform to the best international standards of the rule of law.
There is also a message for the political establishment — do not allow political aspirations to be hijacked by militants. The Akali Morcha was launched in August 1982, with 10 economic, religious, and political demands. There was nothing anti-national about this and it evoked massive public support. The agitation, however, was allowed to simmer, and the failure to address the issues politically till the Rajiv-Longowal Accord in July 1985, which was also not honoured, allowed the militants to unleash unmitigated violence.
A two-pronged strategy was required — political management of the socioeconomic and regional aspirations and a simultaneous, firm enforcement of law and order. The State failed to do either. Foreign forces stepped in to exploit the situation. The administration collapsed and the Army — the option of last resort — was brought in. The poorly planned Operation Blue Star blemished the fair image of the forces. There is a caution for the Army — the strategy and tactics it adopts in aiding civil power invariably have far-reaching consequences. Illustratively, the use of tanks in the Golden Temple and the resultant devastation had wide-ranging adverse outcomes.
Insurgencies do necessitate long-term deployment of armed forces but it is vital to evolve a civil-military maxim, an institutionalised oversight mechanism rather than relying on the present “joint command” concept, which often turns out to be occasional meet-and-greet conferences. Our forces are apolitical, and to protect this image, civil oversight mechanisms should be strengthened. The recent FIR against three colonels and 13 soldiers in Kupwara for allegedly storming the police station only confirms the need for it.
Ramesh Inder Singh is former chief secretary of Punjab and author of Turmoil in Punjab: Before and after “Blue Star: An Insider’s Account. The views expressed are personal
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