Dead end in punjab
By
Brad Adams, Executive Director, Asia Division, Human
Rights Watch
The story of history's losers
is usually buried under layers of dirt, shovelled
courtesy of the winners. At the bottom of these layers
are individuals who opposed those in power. Lying
next to them are people aligned with or sympathetic
to the losers.
Since the middle of the 20th century, social archaeologists
have identified many losers by another name: "human
rights" victims, eliminated by governments or
their armed opponents. The nomenclature of human rights
has had a salutary impact. It has posthumously turned
forgotten or even scorned "losers" into
individuals with flesh and bone and thoughts worthy
of remembrance.
Perversely, rights-abusing governments sometimes benefit
from the accretion of victims. In the rush to protect
today’s (and tomorrow’s) victims, yesterday’s are
often de-prioritised, forgotten, even cast aside.
This is now the plight of India’s Sikhs. In the early
Eighties, armed separatist groups demanded an independent
state of Khalistan. To destroy the movement, security
forces were given a free hand, leading to the worst
kinds of abuse. India, grappling with new battles
in Kashmir and the Northeast and coping with religious
conflict leading to the Mumbai riots of 1992-1993
and the Gujarat pogrom in 2002, has largely forgotten
the crimes in Punjab. Each of these problems has piled
a new layer of dirt on the long-standing and still
simmering problem of the Sikhs.
The Punjab violence peaked in June 1984 when Prime
Minister Indira Gandhi sent the Indian Army and paramilitary
forces into the most sacred of Sikh sites, the Golden
Temple in Amritsar. Huddled with hundreds of Sikh
militants were thousands of civilians, many of them
pilgrims who thought they were safe in a place considered
an unthinkable target. A brutal battle left nearly
a hundred Indian security personnel dead. Independent
estimates suggest that thousands, mostly civilians,
perished. Some were reportedly found with their hands
bound and bullets in their heads. The attack on the
Golden Temple soon cost Indira Gandhi her life. On
October 31, 1984, she was killed by two of her Sikh
bodyguards. Blaming all Sikhs instead of the individuals
who pulled the triggers, members of Gandhi’s Congress
party organised pogroms against Sikhs in Delhi. In
a rebuke to the party’s spiritual founder, Mahatma
Gandhi, thousands were killed. Children were found
beheaded. Seven government-appointed commissions have
investigated these attacks, but all have either coated
the layers of dirt with whitewash or been met with
official stonewalling and obstruction.
Victim groups, lawyers, and activists have long alleged
state complicity in the violence. For three days the
police failed to act as gangs carrying weapons and
kerosene roamed the streets, exhorting non-Sikhs to
kill Sikhs and loot and burn their properties. Reacting
to the assassination, Mrs Gandhi’s son, Rajiv, however,
appeared to bless the ensuing pogrom, saying, "When
a big tree falls, the earth is bound to shake."
For the next 10 years, politically active Sikhs in
Punjab, and those who stood up for victims and their
families, were targeted for murder, disappearance,
and arrest by Indian security forces. Violence and
intimidation have continued at a lower level since,
but a recent visit to Amritsar made it clear just
how widespread the fear and anguish continue to be.
Many Sikhs there continue to talk of fear of the police
and security forces and of receiving threats, often
speaking in the low voices of human rights victims
in too many parts of the world.
Improbable and courageous leaders have emerged, such
as Mrs Paramjit Kaur Khalra, whose husband, Jaswant
Singh Khalra, exposed the secret and illegal cremation
of thousands of bodies in Punjab officially labelled
as "unidentified or unclaimed." The killers
certainly knew their identities; they were "unclaimed"
because their bodies were cremated before family members
ever knew they were missing. Yet, about 65 per cent
of the persons illegally killed and cremated by the
Punjab police have yet to be formally "identified."
So widespread was the practice that Jaswant Singh
Khalra uncovered it by tracking the purchases of wood
(he learned that it takes 300 kilograms to burn a
single body) by the security services. He found that
in just three crematoria in Amritsar district — one
of the 13 districts in Punjab — thousands of unidentified
people had been illegally cremated.
What Jaswant Singh Khalra learned cost him his life.
In September 1995 he was abducted in broad daylight
in front of his house and later killed. His killers
have been identified but have not been prosecuted.
Impunity reigns over the Punjab, to the point that
former Punjab police chief K.P.S. Gill has had the
temerity to publicly demand that laws be passed to
grant immunity of police officers or their crimes
in recognition of their "service to the state."
For progress to be made, Congress will have to stop
just pointing fingers at the BJP for its stoking of
communal violence and deal with the skeletons in its
own closet. Most of the killing and disappearances
took place under Mrs Gandhi and successor Congress
governments. Some of those allegedly responsible for
the violence in Delhi in 1984 were elected to Parliament
in May’s elections. Some are now ministers.
But groups like the Association of Families of the
Disappeared in Punjab, the Committee for Information
and Initiative on Punjab, the Committee for Coordination
on Disappearances in Punjab (publisher of the seminal
Reduced to Ashes, The Insurgency and Human Rights
in Punjab, www.safhr.org), and ENSAAF (www.ensaaf.org),
which just released Twenty Years of Impunity: The
November 1984 Pogroms of Sikhs in India, have refused
to allow the issue to be buried. It is largely due
to their efforts that recently the National Human
Rights Commission ordered compensation of Rs 2.5 lakhs
each for the families of 109 people who were killed
in the custody of Punjab Police between 1984 and 1994.
This could be the beginning of a proper accounting,
although the families consider this too little, too
late, and the state has made no admission of responsibility.
Justice will have failed unless the officials involved
in such violations are vigorously and transparently
prosecuted in a clear message that India does not
tolerate human rights violations or excuse it because
the perpetrators claim to be patriotic enough to break
the law for national security.
The best and only way for Congress to overcome its
record of human rights abuses in Punjab and Delhi
is to embrace the rule of law as the vehicle for accountability
and reconciliation. But a genuine reconciliation requires
a willingness to admit errors and rectify them. Only
a conscious exercise of political will on the part
of the new government of Prime Minister Manmohan Singh
— seemingly a serious and principled politician —
can bring about justice for the Sikhs. Otherwise,
discussions about the carnage in Gujarat and the need
to take action against BJP leaders risk being seen
as a partisan ploy, divorced from a genuine commitment
to the rule of law and the imperative of re-establishing
the secular credentials of the state. And it is worth
contemplating the possibility that success in Punjab
may open new windows for peace and reconciliation
in other areas of conflict still visible in the dirt,
such as Kashmir, Manipur and Nagaland.
Brad Adams is the executive director, Asia Division,
Human Rights Watch and lives in London