Beyond the Lines: An Autobiography
Page 45
Nearly 30,000 Sikhs were arrested within a span of two months. The jails could not accommodate all; some were detained in camps, or even in houses. Thirty-four people died when a bus carrying them ran into a train. The morcha had caught the imagination of the Sikh peasantry and there was no dearth of satyagrahis.
What frightened me was the religious frenzy that Bhindranwale aroused. I wrote strongly to warn the government that the situation could lead to a renewal of the demand for Khalistan. I also met K.C. Pant, then home minister, to suggest he speak to the Akali leaders. I was pained by his comment: ‘I do not doubt your patriotism but I feel that you are encouraging the Sikhs.’
On 15 October 1983, on the eve of Diwali, Indira Gandhi released all Akali prisoners. Within a few days of the Akali prisoners’ release, Swaran Singh met Longowal and discussed all their demands, most of which were mundane. He persuaded them to accept the request to have the kirtan at the Golden Temple relayed by the Jalandhar station of AIR rather than their having a separate broadcasting station for it. They dropped the demand to rename the Flying Mail from Amritsar, Harmandir Express, realizing that it would be derogatory to tag Harmandir Sahib’s name to a train.
The Akali leaders and Indira Gandhi met almost every afternoon. Balwant Singh would come to my place after the talks and give me the gist of what had transpired. One day he startled me when he said that they had requested Indira Gandhi to appoint me as an arbitrator.
Chandigarh did not pose any problem at that time; it was taken for granted that the city would go to Punjab. As regards Fazilka and Abohar, the Akalis claimed that the Punjabi-speaking population was in a majority there. Swaran Singh, however, agreed that a territorial commission should decide on the respective claims of Punjab and Haryana over all areas on the basis of their linguistic composition.
The sharing of river water was a ticklish issue, but the Akalis expressed their willingness to abide by the decision of a Supreme Court judge and did not object to his being assisted by a team of experts. It was left to Swaran Singh to identify the Act under which the reference could be made to draft the terms.
The Anandpur Sahib Resolution was the principal snag. Swaran Singh told the Akalis that he could only discuss with them matters concerning Centre–state relations and nothing beyond. The Akalis held several meetings among themselves and watered down the Anandpur Resolution.
The Akalis told Swaran Singh that the resolution principally concerned Centre–state relations and decentralization of power for all the states. The constitution of a commission (June 1983) to define Centre–state relations under former Supreme Court judge, R.S. Sarkaria, grew out of government’s discussions with the Akalis. Sarkaria reported that the ‘partisan’ role of the governor was the cause of strain in union–state relations after the fourth general elections, that is, after Indira Gandhi became prime minister. His comment was on states, including Punjab, where she used the governor to dismiss three Akali governments.
The Akalis proposed a constitution of an all-party parliamentary committee. Their suggestion of including the opposition parties did not please Indira Gandhi as in their scheme of things the opposition parties would play an integral part in the discussions. However, Swaran Singh deliberated that as in an all-party parliamentary committee, the representation of each party would be proportionate to its strength in parliament and the Congress would have an automatic majority. It was therefore suggested that the Akalis should agree to leave it to Indira Gandhi to appoint a committee to examine the Anandpur Sahib Resolution and give its verdict.
Swaran Singh, who had been keeping Indira Gandhi in the picture, conveyed to her the details of the agreement on the Anandpur Sahib Resolution and the distribution of water, the two principal demands. She accepted the settlement and praised him for his painstaking efforts.
She, however, told him that she would like the matter to be placed before a cabinet subcommittee, which she constituted immediately, with Pranab Mukherjee, R. Venkataraman, P.V. Narasimha Rao, and P.C. Sethi as its members. Swaran Singh placed the formula in detail before the committee and they accepted it; Swaran Singh proposed that the prime minister be informed for final concurrence. The subcommittee members told him that they had full authority to endorse the formula and convey the government’s acceptance.
Accordingly, Swaran Singh told the Akalis that the government had approved the formula, and a draft statement too was shown to them. Their leaders, camping in Delhi, wanted to carry the draft with them to Amritsar. As the statement had to be placed before parliament, it was agreed that it would be relayed to them at Amritsar at about the same time that it was placed before parliament.
However, the statement placed before parliament was substantially different from that which had been shown to the Akalis and did not mention all the points in relation to which Swaran Singh had made concessions. It again spoke about seeking the consent of Rajasthan and Haryana before reaching a settlement on the division of water. The Akalis termed this ‘a betrayal’ and complained to Swaran Singh. He could say nothing because it was apparent that Indira Gandhi had changed her mind at the last minute and the ministerial committee’s approval carried no weight.
Swaran Singh could not subsequently tell me what had happened behind the scenes but his guess was that the cabinet subcommittee did not tell Indira Gandhi that the draft statement, which she subsequently changed, had been shown to the Akalis. His inference might have been correct because Indira Gandhi’s ministers had no communication with her. Had they told her that they had authorized the statement on their own, they would have faced her wrath, a prospect which all of them wished to avoid, but this would have paved the way for a settlement.
Who bungled at which stage may never be revealed but it is apparent that Indira Gandhi changed her mind after giving her consent to Swaran Singh. My feeling is that she believed that Longowal and Bhindranwale were on the same page. Any concession would mean that the Akalis could convincingly say that they represented the Sikhs, and where would that leave her own Congress party? What she did not realize was that most of the Sikhs wanted an identity of their own and the Akalis had come to represent them.
After the failure of the talks, Swaran Singh vowed not to get involved again. He kept away from negotiations with the Akalis and even when he was repeatedly requested by the PM to play ‘some part’ he did not agree. Indira Gandhi left the problem, which she could have settled then, hanging. The Akalis still thought that they could retrieve the situation which was being increasingly controlled by Bhindranwale.
The moderates were against Bhindranwale and his approach but were also angry with the government for not doing anything for the community. They had always given in to the hawks and this time was no exception. The feedback to the Akalis was that the Sikhs in the countryside were agitated over police ‘encounters’, arrests, searches, and the ill-treatment meted out to the families of suspects. This only increased Bhindranwale’s following.
The Sikh youth, mostly from villages, were getting educated but there were not enough jobs for them. They were disinclined to return to the rough and tumble of rural life and even their farms (65 per cent) had become uneconomical with the increase in the number of inheritors, each demanding a share. Even though Punjab had benefitted the most from the ‘green revolution’ there was growing discontent. All these factors contributed to a demand for confrontation with the government.
Bhindranwale’s statement that the Hindu police were killing ‘innocent Sikhs’ added fuel to fire. The Akalis reacted to the ‘excesses’ by honouring suspects of murder and violence with saropas (a robe of honour), petrifying the Hindus even more. At that time, the People’s Union for Civil Liberties sponsored a team, with V.M. Tarkunde as chairman, and I as a member, to assess the police excesses against the Sikhs. Amrik Singh, an educationist and a close friend of mine, was also a member of the team. We stated in our report that the police had ‘acted like a force taking revenge’ and had even set fire to the houses of a few people who h
ad absconded and destroyed utensils, clothes, and whatever other belongings came to hand.
Relatives of these people were harassed and sometimes even detained. Many days after the excesses were committed by the police, we could see how fear-stricken the people were. Villagers gave us the names of some of the police officials involved. Some of them, they said, had a reputation of taking the law into their hands.
However, we could not but condemn the extremist elements that were bent on disturbing peace and glorifying violence. We were shown in Jalandhar, where we ended our trip, photographs of persons who had been charged with murder and rioting being ‘honoured’. We learnt to our dismay that even the moderate Sikh leaders were reluctant or afraid to condemn the unlawful acts of the extremists.
The Akali leaders’ failure to speak out against the atrocities to people of other religious beliefs was its major blunder. Many Hindus had tried to discuss the state’s problems with the Akalis. Virendra, a leading editor from Jalandhar, went to Longowal to tell him that he supported the Akali demands. Romesh Chander, Jagat Narain’s son, Hind Samachar’s chief editor, wrote that he accepted the validity of the demands. Nonetheless, both of them, like other Hindu leaders, complained that the Akalis were unwilling to talk to them.
The Hindu leaders made no secret of their suspicion that the Akalis were working towards an autonomous Sikh state and that every act of theirs was intended to further that demand. After losing their all in Pakistan, Hindus feared the prospect of being forced into ‘another migration’ which an autonomous Sikh state would entail.
At that time there was virtually no law and order in Punjab and the Akalis were openly critical of the government for not taking action against the ‘culprits’, as were the opposition parties, including the BJP and the CPI(M). According to some sources, Bhindranwale even asked Longowal to give a call to the Sikh masses to buy motorcycles and revolvers to kill Hindus in Punjab. This shocked Longowal and he issued a statement to inform the public about Bhindranwale’s intentions to challenge the government. There was, however, such intense pressure from the extremists that even Tohra and Longowal preferred to lie low.
Even though it was announced that Guru Nanak Niwas was part of the Golden Temple, Bhindranwale began feeling insecure there. He feared that the Akali leaders would one day call the police into Guru Nanak Niwas and have him arrested.
Longowal was more than ever convinced that the government would not yield till the Hindus in Punjab lent their voice to the Akali demands. The Punjab group in Delhi, comprising Inder Gujral, Lt Gen. J.S. Aurora, Air Marshal Arjan Singh, Justice Rajinder Sachar, Pran Chopra, and I approached Longowal to have a hukumnama (edict) issued against the killings. The Akalis’ argument was that this would imply an admission that all the killers were Sikhs. However, Longowal appreciated the need for a unilateral gesture to Hindus but Tohra sabotaged it.
With pressure building on the government to do something (the Lok Dal and the BJP in the opposition demanded army action), Bhindranwale apprehended a Central Reserve Police (CRP) swoop and wanted to move to the Akal Takht. However, its head priest, Kirpal Singh, said that he would not allow arms inside the sanctified area. Bhindranwale then complained to Tohra, who persuaded Kirpal Singh to withdraw his objection. What could the head priest do when Tohra, his employer, thought otherwise? On 15 December 1983, Bhindranwale moved to the Akal Takht.
From that very day fortifications began to be constructed inside the temple. New Delhi was worried because it could see the confrontation building. Although both the prime minister and the home minister assured President Zail Singh that whatever action they took, they would at most send the police within the precincts of the temple, Zail Singh threatened to resign if the government ever changed its mind.
Longowal didn’t approve of Bhindranwale moving into the Akal Takht but could do little about it as he was aware that Tohra, president of the SGPC which has all gurdwaras under it, was sympathetic to Bhindranwale. In fact, Tohra for his part was seeking to maintain good relations with both Longowal and Bhindranwale. Violence erupted in Panipat and Jagadhari in Hindi-speaking Haryana; nine Sikhs were killed and three gurdwaras attacked on 19 February 1984. The connivance of the authorities was palpable.
Relations between Hindus and Sikhs were bad enough because of the killing of some Hindus in Punjab but the equation began to come under strain even outside the state. The central government was also panicky because there was horror and anger against the failure to check the rise of terrorism in Punjab. The state machinery, bolstered by the induction of the CRPF and BSF, made elaborate plans to counter the situation. One step was to clear ‘undesirable people’ from the houses surrounding the Golden Temple, but New Delhi did not give a green signal for this.
Whatever action was contemplated, the Punjab government was conscious that it was essentially a political question which demanded a political solution. State governor B.D. Pande, stated that it was a political matter and his advisers relayed this message to Indira Gandhi whenever they got an opportunity to meet her.
Sant Longowal was reduced to a puppet. Though he was aware of the fortifications as his aides brought him news of arms being brought in trucks carrying ration for the langar. On the other hand, Maj. Gen. Shabeg Singh, hero of the Bangladesh war, was training the extremists within the Golden Temple complex.
Longowal did not do anything to put a stop to all the buildup inside the Akal Takht. For one, he felt he could not do anything to change the situation, two, he was angry with the government of India for not providing him with an escape route, and three, he did not know how many Sikhs he could take with him if the chips were down. He avoided open confrontation with Bhindranwale, but even so, was willing to call off the agitation if the government were to hand over Chandigarh to Punjab in exchange for an equal area to be given to Haryana and to agree to refer all the other demands to a tribunal. He underlined this in many press interviews.
Longowal made yet another attempt to strengthen his depleting ranks. As the Sikhs had been inspired by Bhindranwale to maintain their distinct identity, Longowal demanded an amendment to Article 25 (2) which stated: ‘the reference to Hindus shall be construed as including a reference to persons of Sikh, Jain or Buddhist religions…’ This did not figure in the Akalis’ long list of grievances, nor was the amendment in their short list of demands. By raising the question, moderate Akalis thought that they would be able to regain their flock. ‘We had to do something to retrieve our following which Bhindranwale had taken away from us,’ one of them explained.
Badal, who was conscious of Hindu sensitivity, opposed the demand for amendment, Balwant Singh remained silent, and Barnala supported Badal. Longowal brought them round by convincing them that Tohra had already secured Congress general secretary Rajiv Gandhi’s approval for such an amendment.
The Akalis also announced the boycott of the biennial Rajya Sabha poll. They could have secured one seat, but this went to the Congress because of their non-participation. They also decided to celebrate Azad Panth week. Increasingly, the emphasis was on the Panth and religious homogeneity to impress upon the Sikhs that they were no different from Bhindranwale when it came to protecting the dignity of the community.
What the Akalis had in mind was either a common civil code for all communities or a separate law for the Sikhs. In a letter to New Delhi, Longowal stated that the Hindus had a separate personal law and so had Muslims, then why not the Sikhs? ‘Denial of a separate law is an instance of discrimination against the Sikhs.’
The government was in two minds about whether to take on the Akalis or to compromise with them. Narasimha Rao, then home minister, called us, the Punjab Group, and suggested that we hold discussions with the Akalis and persuade them to divide Chandigarh, one part becoming the capital of Punjab and other of Haryana, as if the Centre had agreed to concede the other Akali demands. We were able to persuade the Akalis to agree to split Chandigarh, but the strange thing was that we were unable either to get an appointment with
Narasimha Rao or to convey the Akalis’ consent to him over the phone. He was simply unavailable so we feared something fishy was in the air.
Our suspicion was strengthened when H.K.L. Bhagat, the then minister for information and broadcasting, came to meet me. He had been sent by Indira Gandhi, as he told me, and asked whether the government should send troops inside the Golden Temple. I replied in the negative, arguing that the Golden Temple was not just a gurdwara but the Sikhs’ Vatican. They would consider it a very grievous affront to the entire community.
I did not hear from Bhagat again, but I heard from the president’s press secretary, Trilochan Singh, that troops had entered the Golden Temple. When I had met Giani Zail Singh a few days earlier he had said that he had an assurance from Indira Gandhi that she would never send troops into the Golden Temple.
Trilochan Singh was also the first person to tell the president about the army’s entry into the Golden Temple. He felt deeply hurt, and particularly by the fact that even though he was the titular commander-in-chief of the Indian armed forces, he had been kept in the dark when the troops moved into the Golden Temple.
I was shocked but not surprised when the army moved into the Golden Temple on 3 June 1984. As a member of the Punjab Group, I felt defeated because Narasimha Rao entrusted us with the task of talking to the Akalis ten days before the army moved into the Golden Temple. I later checked with Brig. Kuldip Singh Brar, leading Operation Bluestar and found that he had been told about the assignment a fortnight earlier. This meant that the government had made up its mind to storm the Golden Temple when Rao spoke to us. Why did he hide the fact from us?