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Assassinating Memory: The centre fell off the fringe

S P Singh

Last week, when I wrote about 'The assassination of memory', I was referring to the collective memory of the Sikhs which was singed with the violence of a decade and a half, a period in which the young and the not-so-young shed blood for a cause many understood only dimly or even less, but which nevertheless seemed to them a higher calling. I drew parallels between memories of Holocaust and the experience of the Sikh community during the violence-laced years.

The Holocaust has been transformed into an all-purpose moral metaphor adopted by a variety of special interest campaigns and crusades. This Holocaust brand has been co-opted for other experiences, too; we now hear debates about the African-American Holocaust, the Serbian Holocaust, the Bosnian Holocaust, the Rwandan Holocaust. The Sikhs intermittently used the Holocaust imagery to describe what they went through in 1984. Operation Bluestar was often referred to as Ghallughara.

Memories function in ways strange. But that was tale of collective memory.

I left out an instance of an individual memory deliberately because I felt it deserved a separate mention altogether. Rewind to Punjab elections 2002. Akali Dal was in disarray. Prakash Singh Badal and Gurcharan Singh Tohra were at loggerheads. When Congress won, Tohra's quote -- Je main sarak te han tan Badal vi ta sarak te hai (If I am on the road, then so is Badal) -- underlined the crux of Akali polity at the moment.

What remained unsaid was that alongside Badal, Tohra was another pillar of Akali power.  As of course he had been for nearly four decades. For twenty-five years, the man had been the president of the SGPC.

Clearly, he was a man at the centre stage.

Then came the famous Akali Dal versus Congress tussle over the presidential elections of SGPC in 2002. Amarinder Singh's regime was out to support Tohra-led All India Shiromani Akali Dal (AISAD) by means proxy. The SGPC members received midnight knocks from the police, and Badal, dumping the great tradition of Guru Ka Bagh and Jaito Da Morcha, flew his SGPC flock from Delhi to Amritsar, trouncing Tohra.

But the fact remained that Tohra was centre stage.

Politics took a few twists, Badal made a quick journey to jail as Amarinder Singh went after the Akalis with a vengeance, vowing not to see any corruption within the Congress ranks. Of several things for which Congress is considered responsible, the Akalis have never blamed it for bringing about Akali unity. But the fact remains that the famous Badal-Tohra clasp which was termed 'Akali unity' brought about a turn in Badal's fortunes.

Many thought it was because Tohra was centre stage.

As Punjab's polity rattled with the din of electioneering for the last few weeks, I haven't heard even someone squeaking Tohra's name. History has given its greats far lesser time on its stage, but they made their impression deep enough to leave behind their impact. For how many years were the great and famous of history on centre stage?

How many decades must a leader remain centre stage for the polity to remember him for at least a reasonable amount of time? This was Punjab's first election without Gurcharan Singh Tohra. And the late leader was nowhere. Even his death didn't help to keep him on the party posters. His loyalists didn't utter his name while taking important decisions. No one heard Prem Singh Chandumajra praising the great leader when he united with Badal's Akali Dal. Mahesh Inder Singh Grewal, happy with a ticket from Payal, didn't think it prudent to remember the dead. Sukhdev Singh Bhaur is happy on the sidelines. At least he is in some line. Who knows whom in the queue may the leader reward someday? Afterall, Avtar Singh Makkar is a clear example.

But why did Tohra fall off the centre stage of politics so fast after his death? The deduction is chillingly simplistic. It doesn't matter for how long you lord over the politics. What matters is what decisions you take at crucial moments. The script was clear when the unity happened. Those who thought only Bhai Ranjit Singh fell by the wayside when the unity clasp happened now have another thought coming. There was only one leader in that clasp. The other fell off the centre stage by embracing. Political stage is a small pedestal. The moment you tiptoe over a principle, you fall over.

Wait a bit more. The fate won't be very different for many others.

After all, only one general secretary of the Akali Dal flits around Punjab in a chopper or figures in pop music videos starring a venerable Badal. Other general secretaries will soon be clamoring that the young blood should take over. Even the senior Badal Sahib may seem more than ready to make this great sacrifice to the loud roar of Bole So Nihal. I can put a safe wager on the fact that you won't hear Tohra Zindabad in that din.

Not even Harmel Singh Tohra will raise a fist for the bazurg.

And I am not even referring to the memory of a young man Akali leaders used to call Sant ji till June 6, 1984. Or the older Sant ji who inked pacts of understanding with the Indian state.

Assassins of memories lurk around the corner. Who will be next?

February 14, 2007

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