Explained : Punjabi Suba: Language, politics and identity and Its Impact

AFTER the 1971 Indo-Pak war, to counter the reach of Lahore Television, the Government of India started the Amritsar TV station on September 29, 1973. On the historic day, Punjabis on both sides of the Wagah international border were sitting in their homes, glued to the black-and-white TV sets displaying flickering images on the screens.

They were watching the live telecast of the mushaira being held in Khalsa College, Amritsar. Among them was Surjit Patar, who read his declamatory poem: “Dhai nadeeiaan da eh Punjab, hovega kisey neta de lai Punjab/main neta nahin haan. … barha chir hoia mere Punjab ne khudkudshi kar laiee si.” (This land of two and a half rivers would be Punjab to some politicians / I am not a politician… It’s been a long time since my Punjab committed suicide (in 1947).

These subversive words uttered by the poet were a hard truth. They cut through the falsehoods of the ruling elites on both sides of the border. It must have made many politicians uncomfortable. Thereafter, the authorities decided not to telecast live mushairas again.

Wise cynicism begs the question: what is there to celebrate a piece of land called Punjabi Suba — which is de facto a Sikh Suba — that has been reduced to just 15% of the total land of the undivided Punjab? During the Partition, 60% of the area was given to Pakistan and 40% to India.

Then in 1966, it was further dismembered by giving away 11 Punjabi-speaking districts to Haryana, Himachal Pradesh and Rajasthan. Chandigarh, the capital of Punjab, was made an orphan.

After the transfer of power in 1947, many Sikh political and religious leaders felt the Two-Nation theory had given the Sikhs a raw deal. Bhai Parmanand, an Arya Samaji ghadarite of Jhelum, was the first Punjabi to float the idea of dividing Punjab on religious lines as early as 1910.

In December 1924, Lala Lajpat Rai published a series of 10 articles titled ‘The Hindu-Muslim Problem’ in The Tribune, advocating the partition of India into Hindu and Muslim regions. He proposed dividing Punjab into a Muslim-dominated western Punjab and a Hindu-Sikh-dominated eastern Punjab.

The two-nation theory is the basic tenet of the Islamic Republic of Pakistan. In Indian Punjab, ironically, Punjabi intellectuals face the same dilemma. The very notion of Punjabi nationality goes against the idea of the Indian state and nationhood.

I would extend Guru Nanak’s maxim “na ko Hindu, na Musalman” to Punjab as “na ko Hindu, na Musalman, na Sikh“, ie, Punjab belongs to Punjabis of all denominations and not to those of a particular religion or language.

But the reality is that the idea of an undivided Punjabi nationality is no longer relevant. Punjabi Muslims in Pakistan are content with where they are, even though the ideology of Pakistan is incompatible with the idea of Punjabiyat. Similarly, Sikh politicians of all shades in Indian Punjab understand that if not for the “two partitions”, they would never have gotten an opportunity to rule in the present-day Punjab.

Some Sikh leaders, however, added a third layer of complexity to the two-nation theory soon after Partition, by demanding a Sikh homeland. The demand was fraught with constitutional dangers. BR Ambedkar, then Minister of Law and Justice, came to the rescue of the idea when a three-member delegation of the Akali Dal led by Giani Kartar Singh met him in January, 1948.

Ambedkar told them that demanding a “Sikh state” would be a “cry in the wilderness” in the newly formed Indian state. However, if they changed their strategy and demanded statehood based on Punjabi language, instead of “Sikhi”, it would sit well with the Central government’s policy of reorganising states on a linguistic basis. They could thus achieve their goal of a Sikh-majority area “in the cloak of a Punjabi Suba.”

Ambedkar’s shrewd advice was based on the knowledge that the consolidation of Punjabi-speaking districts would automatically result in a Sikh-majority region.

One wonders whether Ambedkar gave this advice in his personal capacity or whether it was shared in confidence with other leaders, especially Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru. (In the present Punjab, the five districts with a Hindu-majority population are Fazilka, Hoshiarpur, Jalandhar, Nawanshahr and Pathankot).

Heeding Ambedkar’s advice, the SAD started the ‘Punjabi Suba’ movement. It lasted 19 years, but came at great human cost. Soon after the 1965 Indo-Pak war ended in a draw, the Delhi Darbar decided to create a new state in “gratitude for the great services rendered by Sikh soldiers in the 1965 war with Pakistan.” The new state was carved out on the basis of the 1961 Census. It had a 60-63% Sikh majority population, while Hindus comprised a significant minority of 37-38%.

It is said that the Central government left out Punjabi-speaking Hindu-majority districts from the new state to appease the Sikhs. These districts in Haryana were Ambala, Fatehabad, Karnal, Kurukshetra, Sirsa and Yamunanagar; in Himachal Pradesh, they were Kangra, Solan and Una; in Rajasthan, Ganganagar and Hanumangarh. Had these areas been included in Punjabi Suba, it would have pushed the Sikh population below the Hindus.

The demand to merge them back in Punjab is not on the agenda anymore. For every political party in East Punjab, it has become a non-issue.

Only six years after the creation of Punjab, the Shiromani Akali Dal (SAD) passed the Anandpur Sahib Resolution, which sought greater autonomy for the new state, leaving defence, foreign relations, communications and currency to the responsibility of the Central government — later used by Bhindranwale as a political weapon in his sermons at the Akal Takht.

Ambedkar has argued in his book ‘Thoughts on Linguistic States’ (1955) that making states on the basis of language would “strengthen democracy and cultural autonomy.”

The Punjabi Suba was invented ostensibly in the name of the Punjabi language. Language is in the realm of cultural autonomy. For lack of political will, this has not happened. Aware of what Plato thought of poets, I, being a desperate optimist who is not into slogan-mongering, would like to see the reconstruction of Punjabi as a unified civilisational linguistic system and a language of governance, knowledge and authority in its own land.

Punjab must legally institutionalise Punjabi as the primary language of governance, education and public life through mandatory Punjabi-medium instruction in state-funded schools, compulsory use in courts and administration and enforceable accountability for non-compliance, overseen by a statutory language commission tasked with integrating dialects and expanding Punjabi into science, technology and digital governance.

Evaluating the pros and cons of the creation of the Punjabi Suba, one may ask: what have the people of Punjab gained in the last 60 years? What consequences have they been made to face? Has it strengthened democracy and cultural autonomy? The answers are not hard to find.