April 19, 1999

Among the most modern of the world's great religions Sikhism's strength has been its open-ended and flexible character. The Khalsa, once a warrior creed, today stands for energy, enterprise and an evocative celebration of life.

By Ashok Malik and Ramesh Vinayak

In a time of diffused identities, the uninitiated could be forgiven for confusing the terms Sikhism and Khalsa. There is, of course, a difference: the first refers to the pacifist faith Guru Nanak founded and second to the militaristic brotherhood Guru Gobind Singh created two centuries later, on Baisakhi, 1699. To the devout though the two represent a creed in continuum, two milestones in the great battle against oppression -- whether represented by an iniquitous Hindu caste system or a bigoted Muslim ruler. The Gurus were mortal; the revolutionary impulses have conquered time. Banda Bahadur, the general who galvanised the Khalsa after Gobind Singh's death, called for "land to the tiller", reflecting a socialistic aspiration well before such terms became fashionable. Why, in this very century, Bhagat Singh could famously declare himself an atheist -- and yet embody the Khalsa (the pure) as few have.

The Guru's action that momentous day in Anandpur Sahib represented a trenchant break in Indian existence. The Khalsa remains this land's only spiritual militia. One aspect was institutionalised over the years as the Rahit -- the code of conduct that would guide the pure-hearted, a sort of Sikh Bushido. The other, the prowess of the Sikh warrior, too passed the test of history. Today the very zeal and enthusiasm have been deployed in a million ways: by farmers who feed a nation, by the breathtaking audacity of a man who builds an aircraft atop his house. This is not a creed for the self-conscious. Nor for the fainthearted.

Three hundred years ago, the Guru baptised the five chosen to inaugurate the Khalsa -- and was then baptised by them, establishing an equality of teacher and disciple. He decreed that there would be no gurus after him save the Guru Granth, the holy book, and the Guru Panth, the fraternity that in its collective wisdom would interpret the book. It is no wonder then that Man Singh Nirankari, the Chandigarh-based religious scholar, calls Sikhism a "most democratic institution, God resides in the congregation".

The legacy of the Gurus is a legacy of conviction. Conviction, of course, can often be in competition. Contemporary Sikhism is not without debate -- about a clergy that may have usurped the role of the larger community rather than merely articulating it; about -- to quote H.S. Soch, vice-chancellor, Guru Nanak Dev University, Amritsar -- "a value system that cannot afford to remain static yet must retain its core". What then is the mission statement for the Khalsa today? To ghazal singer Jagjit Singh it's clear enough: "I don't have a beard and long hair. But those are not so important. I'm a Sikh at heart. I'm proud to be a Sikh." As the Khalsa turns global -- with a presence stretching from Vancouver to Visakhapatnam -- it must reassure the community that wherever its members may be, the same fire burns within them. With the same intensity as 300 years ago.

Fraternity of the Pure: Contemporary Khalsa
The Sikh contribution to national life is truly phenomenal. Some of those who make a difference--but perhaps not the front pages--speak on being part of the heritage of the Gurus

Party across the Globe
The overseas Sikh community's enthusiasm for the tercentenary is evident in the grand events planned in the United States, Canada and Britain

© Living Media India Ltd