In her compelling book, “Democracy Awakening,” Heather Cox Richardson delves into the unsettling reality that democracies often face a greater threat from the ballot box than from overt coercion. Through a meticulous analysis of contemporary political landscapes, Richardson highlights the emergence and appeal of Donald Trump in the US, though her basic analysis offers a general theory of how new authoritarian leaders such as Narendra Modi, Vladimir Putin, and Jair Bolsonaro, have emerged to undermine peace and democracy. She outlines how authoritarian leaders manipulate existing power structures, undermine truth, and exploit the aspirations and insecurities of their followers.
A distinctive feature of these leaders, as Richardson notes, is their ability to transform themselves into heroic figures reclaiming a nation, rather than persuading citizens with practical solutions. The distinction between these “warriors” and lifelong activists lies in the former’s focus on reinforcing followers’ fantasy self-image, organizing them into a mass movement that transcends traditional political engagement.
This transformation of the leader into a rock star or messiah, reminiscent of a religious cult, plays a pivotal role. The narrative becomes simplistic—‘good’ versus ‘evil’—defining the identity of the followers. Truth becomes secondary to a rhetoric of victimhood, decline, national renewal and the loss of an imagined past greatness. The leader’s propaganda is internalized by the followers, creating a loyal army that values loyalty to the leader over objective reality.
As the leader’s actions become more destructive, a paradoxical phenomenon unfolds: the followers’ loyalty deepens. This loyalty, borne out of a need to justify the mistreatment of perceived enemies, solidifies into a self-fulfilling prophecy. The followers become entangled in a psychological web where turning against the leader means acknowledging their own complicity in acts they may have once deemed unthinkable.
The leader, having forged an unshakeable following, embarks on a distortion of history to galvanize their base into an authoritarian movement. This distortion is achieved by framing policies, often contentious, as adhering to established natural or religious rules threatened or abandoned by their enemies, or long-lost imaginary identities and traditions seemingly destroyed by perceived enemies, both external and internal. Reminiscent of Benedict Anderson’s conception of nationalism and imagined communities, this appeal to lost/stolen ‘traditional’ rules offers a solution in the shape of a hierarchical mono-cultural society rather than one that reflects diversity and equality, which casts the strongman’s followers as inherently superior to their opponents.
The narrative then unfolds, suggesting that following these “traditional” rules is the only path to a positive outcome, while deviating from them would lead to dire consequences. These very same narratives of victimhood of an imaginary indigenous population under siege from ‘others’ distort the wider social, economic and historical dimensions to the real material problems that the followers of authoritarian leaders. Here, in a state of alienation, red rag single issues, manufactured moral panics, such as immigration and multiculturalism, become seen as more important than the actual problems and needs of the vast majority of the foot soldiers of the authoritarian leaders.
Richardson’s analysis serves as a stark warning about the vulnerability of democracies in the face of charismatic leaders who exploit grievances, manufacture narratives, and foster a distorted sense of identity among their followers. The rise of new authoritarian leaders is not just a challenge for individual nations but a collective threat to the very essence of democracy, which should concern us all.
Gurnam Singh is an academic activist dedicated to human rights, liberty, equality, social and environmental justice. He is an Associate Professor of Sociology at University of Warwick, UK. He can be contacted at Gurnam.singh.1@warwick.ac.uk
* This is the opinion of the writer and does not necessarily represent the views of Asia Samachar.
ASIA SAMACHAR is an online newspaper for Sikhs / Punjabis in Southeast Asia and beyond. When you leave a comment at the bottom of this article, it takes time to appear as it is moderated by human being. Unless it is offensive or libelous, it should appear. You can also comment at Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. You can reach us via WhatsApp +6017-335-1399 or email: asia.samachar@gmail.com. For obituary announcements, click here
Navinder Kaur in action at the 2023 IFA World Armwrestling Championship in Kuala Lumpur
By Asia Samachar | Malaysia |
Navinder Kaur, a model and an actress, made her maiden entry at an international armwrestling tournament, and she almost clinched a medal in the process.
Navinder emerged fourth in the senior women’s right 63kg category at the 2023 IFA World Armwrestling Championship from Sept 25 to Oct 1, 2023 in Kuala Lumpur. The event was organised by the International Federation of Armwrestling (IFA).
“Proud to be able to present our country Malaysia,” she said in a social media entry.
The Malaysian team collected a total of 10 golds, eight silvers and 12 bronzes to finish fifth in the seven-day competition which was participated by some 500 athletes from 31 countries.
In 2022, Navinder took part for the first time Malaysian National Armwrestling Championship, emerging the first runner-up for two categories: left-hand female below 65kg and right-hand female below 65kg.
ASIA SAMACHAR is an online newspaper for Sikhs / Punjabis in Southeast Asia and beyond. When you leave a comment at the bottom of this article, it takes time to appear as it is moderated by human being. Unless it is offensive or libelous, it should appear. You can also comment at Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. You can reach us via WhatsApp +6017-335-1399 or email: asia.samachar@gmail.com. For obituary announcements, click here
UNITED SIKHS – Langar 2012: On 21st July 2012 the eyes of the global community were on Fauja Singh, the 101 year-old marathon runner, the oldest torch bearer at London 2012, who carried the Torch on the 64th day of the Olympics Torch Relay. To celebrate the wonderful achievements of this under-spoken treasure of the Sikh community, UNITED SIKHS, alongside Gurdwaras and Sikhs from around the world participated in an unprecedented celebration of how Sikhs embrace diversity.
ByJagdesh Singh | Opinion |
The Darbar Sahib had an airy ambiance. I had swallowed my degh in one attempt. It wasn’t much but it was fulfilling, I thought to myself as I bowed down to head towards the Langgar Hall downstairs. But I couldn’t find her on my way out. My youngest daughter was the only company I had today for my weekly sojourn at the local Gurdwara. Curiously, I rushed downstairs to see if she had found some acquaintances her age to hang out with. It is a huge hall but empty still, with the crowd lingering around in the Darbar Sahib upstairs. Yet, she was not to be seen within my line of sight. Before I could step out as the solo search party, I hear her familiar “Pa!” and then she was right in front of me, sandwiched between 5 men, all lined up as the servers of lunch – buffet style.
Growing up in a small typical Malaysian town in the 80s, our small Sikh community was really close knitted. Saturday breakfasts and lunches were typically at the local Gurdwaras, by default, and we then quickly settled at home sometime before tea time to catch some obscure Bollywood movie that the local national tv channel would broadcast. Designed as the central social nerve center by our forefathers in India, families came together at our local Gurdwara for food, gossip, entertainment, and meaningful social interaction. As kids, helping with the kitchen, serving food, and cleaning up afterwards was really an activity that we naturally had to do. You come to Gurdwara, you either sit in the Darbar Sahib quietly or you go downstairs to play with your friends. Quite often, that playing with your friends organically became doing some seva together. When it was time to serve food to the congregation, we literally filled up the food into steel pails, and walked around dishing the food out onto waiting steel plates while loudly announcing what the food was.
“Dhaal ji! Dhaal ji!”
“Sabji ji! Sabji ji”
“Kheer ji! Kheer ji!”
“Chaol ji! Chaol ji!”
We were boisterous, and I personally enjoyed getting acknowledgement from the adults being served with the food. The simple nod, or a smile, even better the vocal “Thank you, beta!” was the positive affirmation I liked very much. It made us kids all feel that doing service without expecting any returns, serving people was fun. Especially when the rest of the gang of friends were also as noisy, as rambunctious. Mind you, I wasn’t the biggest fan of the spicy vegetarian food, but it was the smallest of issues compared to the fun we were having doing all that work. When the crowd subsided, some of us stayed back to clean up, even more fun!
Later in life, equipped with more knowledge of our heritage and our foundational Sikh principles, I began to be conscious on why doing service like this in the Gurudwara was important to us in life. I know I wasn’t the only one with this realization, with some of the closer friends also sharing the same appreciation. I won’t bore you with my interpretation of what this all meant, but I’ll say that it created an obligatory sense of trying to be in service to people around us. First as Sikhs, then as humans. There were times later in my life where I credited this part of my upbringing to being as helpful and humane as possible. As a Sikh, and as a human.
As I ate my last morsel of the chapati drenched with the dhaal, she was still busy serving piping hot vegetable curry to a long line of people from the Darbar Sahib upstairs. She was the only one in the below 25 age brackets, merely half the age of the rest of sevadars. It was obvious that they gave out a welcoming vibe to her that encouraged her to join their camaraderie. Mind you, like me at her age, her grasp of Punjabi was close to none. So, along with the age barrier there was the language barrier. Yet, there she was literally smiling with joy getting the same nod or ‘Thank you’ from those being served. I could already guess the feeling, if not remember it clearly from when I was her age. I did wonder what compelled her to join them in the first place. Then I remembered that during our previous visit to the same Gurdwara, along with her mother, she had wandered deep into the kitchen where the utensils and plates were being washed. She was drenched with soap and water but had the same smile. There were nods and smiles from the adults also washing the plates and utensils together with her. It looked like she belonged there.
Her mother and I are grateful that she’s naturally attracted to doing such service like this at her age. We’re still a little bemused but certainly patted ourselves in our backs even though we don’t really know what we did right. We’ll take the credit and run for now.
But long may it last. It will all come good for our baby girl, that we’re very sure.
Jagdesh Singh, a Kuala Lumpur-based executive with a US multinational company, is a father of three girls who are as opinionated as their mother
* This is the opinion of the writer, organisation or publication and does not necessarily represent the views of Asia Samachar.
ASIA SAMACHAR is an online newspaper for Sikhs / Punjabis in Southeast Asia and beyond. When you leave a comment at the bottom of this article, it takes time to appear as it is moderated by human being. Unless it is offensive or libelous, it should appear. You can also comment at Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. You can reach us via WhatsApp +6017-335-1399 or email: asia.samachar@gmail.com. For obituary announcements, click here.
Sister & Brother in law: Dr. Sachinder Kaur & Dr. Jagjit Singh Khaira
Uncles, aunties, cousins and relatives, friends and colleagues.
FUNERAL PROGRAMME: 7th October 2023 (Saturday)
Last respects on 7th October 2023 (Saturday), from 11 am to 1 pm, at their residence at no 4921-C Jalan Cempaka, Klebang Besar, 75200 Melaka
Sukhmani Sahib Path will start at 11 am. Cortège will leave their residence at 1 pm
Saskar / Cremation: 2pm, 7th October 2023 (Saturday), at Jelutong Crematorium, Melaka
Path da Bhog: 15th October 2023 (Sunday), from 10 am to 12 pm, at Gurdwara Sahib Melaka
A loving Son, Brother, Brother-in-law, Mama and a caring, dedicated Doctor, who will be fondly remembered for all the lives he has touched with his generosity, kindness & charm.
His loss has left a void in the lives of those who knew him.
Sandeep was a true blessing and gift to all who knew him… our lives are richer for knowing him.
“The most painful goodbyes are the ones that are never said or explained.”
Contact persons: Dr Jagjit Singh Khaira – 016 889 6082 Dr Amarjit Singh – 016 651 7740
| Entry: 6 Oct 2023 | Source: Family
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The ‘great professionalism and dedication’ of the police forces was the motivating factor for a Sikh lady to join the Singapore Police Force (SPF). Sergeant (Sgt) Balpreet Kaur is today a Ground Response Force (GRF) officer with Bukit Merah West Neighbourhood Police Centre (NPC).
The GFRs are the police force’s dedicated frontliners, serving as first responders to “999” emergency calls, patrolling neighbourhoods, supporting victims of crime and providing security for major public events.
“In my teens, I witnessed a loanshark harassment incident at my neighbour’s unit involving paint splashing with “‘O$P$’” markings. The officers who investigated and handled the case demonstrated great professionalism and dedication, and this piqued my interest in Police work. I was drawn to the dynamic nature of the job and how it constantly brings new challenges!,” she says in an interview published by the SPF website.
She joined the force in November 2016 and had a two-month attachment at Queenstown NPC, followed by six months of training at the Home Team Academy. She was then stationed at Bukit Merah West NPC since July 2017.
ASIA SAMACHAR is an online newspaper for Sikhs / Punjabis in Southeast Asia and beyond. When you leave a comment at the bottom of this article, it takes time to appear as it is moderated by human being. Unless it is offensive or libelous, it should appear. You can also comment at Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. You can reach us via WhatsApp +6017-335-1399 or email: asia.samachar@gmail.com. For obituary announcements, click here
Karting enthusiast Kareen Kaur, who turned 13 five months ago, has been burning the race tracks for some four years now, to emerge as the fastest female racer in Singapore.
She leaves for Italy tomorrow (Oct 6) to compete in the ROK Cup Super Finals in Lonato, Italy. This is a huge achievement as you don’t get to show up for this event, a major annual calendar event in the karting universe.
In March, Kareen emerged as the fastest female Singapore Kart Driver after achieving a personal best of 44.9 seconds with full race weights. The icing on the cake then was Kareen taking home the Fastest Lap Driver trophy in the junior category in Rok Cup Singapore.
On Sept 11, she came out second in the Club Race (Enduro), Singapore (KF1). “Kaur wins again. There were 28 male drivers, and she was the only female,” her dad Kuldeep Singh told Asia Samachar in a message after the race.
He said this makes her the first Singapore female Sikh who has reached this level in Karting Finals championship and in Motor Sports in the world.
“She trains almost daily. I believe she is the first female Sikh in the world who has ever reached this level,” he said.
Kareen began learning karting in June 2019 at the age of nine. Two years later, she joined club races in the cadet category. In June 2022, at 12, she entered the International ROK Cup Race in the junior category. She has since completed two full series in Singapore’s ROK CUP and has also taken part three times in the Sepang International karting track race events.
She now has been given a chance to represent Singapore in the ROK Cup Super Finals which will be held at the Lonato Del Garda Karting Circuit from Oct 11-14, 2023. Some 114 rokkers, the best from around the world, will be competing in the same category.
Kareen holds an International G competition license valid for kart issued by the Motor Sports Singapore (MSS), according to a document sighted by Asia Samachar, authorising her to take part in the Italian event.
This is just the start. Kareen’s dream is to be the fastest female Singaporean and to represent the country in the W series.
ASIA SAMACHAR is an online newspaper for Sikhs / Punjabis in Southeast Asia and beyond. When you leave a comment at the bottom of this article, it takes time to appear as it is moderated by human being. Unless it is offensive or libelous, it should appear. You can also comment at Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. You can reach us via WhatsApp +6017-335-1399 or email: asia.samachar@gmail.com. For obituary announcements, click here
For British-born Sikhs like me, the journey of navigating between traditions can be a challenging experience, but it also allows you to develop a unique perspective on life. From childhood, we experienced living a double life. One life was at school with white, black and Indian friends, speaking mostly in English, and the other at home, where Punjabi language and traditions dominated. This journey is a delicate balance between preserving our ancestral roots and the rich heritage passed down by our parents, whilst at the same time learning to navigate the British culture and taking the best bits of it.
Being born into a practising Sikh family also meant carrying the legacy of Sikhi, which involved a strict routine of daily Nitnem (Sikh prayers), attending kirtan programmes, and a strict vegetarian diet. Though in such a traditional home, expressing individuality, especially for women and girls was generally discouraged, the positive side was that we felt secure and part of a large extended family.
One of the ways you can make sense of this experience of growing up between different traditions in a rapidly changing world is through the notion of ‘being’ and ‘becoming’. We all have a sense of ‘being’ something and somebody. It is related to our sense of our origins and represents our stable, core identity. This often relates to the instinctive sense of identity or the labels that one feels most comfortable with. And for me, there is no doubt, in this regard ‘being’ has always meant Punjabi Sikh and female.
So being represents my core inner self, which is rooted in my cultural, religious, linguistic and social identity. However, this does not mean our identity is fixed and never changing; it is also about ‘becoming’. Our identity is like a flowing river, ‘being’ is represented by the solid riverside, and ‘becoming’ by the constantly flowing water, sometimes fast and sometimes slow, but never static.
Over the years, as I have become more conscious of this double aspect of identity, and I have come to embrace both sides; feeling proud of my past heritage, but, as I wrote in the previous article ‘not living in the past’, and excited about my future journey. Individuals should not be confined to a fixed identity. Instead, we need to realise that life is about growth and that means constantly moving with the times.
In practice, navigating traditions can be challenging, especially for women and girls like me who are expected to follow men and obey their instructions. Though it is important to take good advice from anybody, ultimately you must develop the confidence to make your own choices, even if occasionally they are not the best ones. You see learning is about making mistakes, and lifelong learning is about stepping outside your comfort zone and taking risks.
Feeling insecure and allowing others to tell you how you should be or live is perhaps the greatest barrier to achieving your full potential. There are many reasons why we may feel insecure, but perhaps the most significant one is when you allow others to control you. This reflects a mindset where you are constantly looking to others for permission and approval.
In truth constantly seeking approval from others is a sign of weakness and the only solution is to be your own leader, to tell your story, and to stop looking to others for answers. This is not an easy task, but ultimately it means taking control of your life and making your own choices. That doesn’t mean one becomes selfish or egotistic; it does mean stopping being dragged along by others and to do this you have to develop your own mind.
Comparing oneself to others is toxic and can lead to diminishing your own achievements. Recognizing and appreciating one’s unique qualities and successes is crucial for developing a positive self-image. So, without being egotistic, it is important that we celebrate our personal achievements, no matter how small they may seem. You see, sometimes it is the small steps that lead to healthy and sustained growth. It also means not feeling threatened when others achieve but celebrating together.
On a personal level, I have realised the importance of calmness and kindness, which is not a sign of weakness, as some may think. While shouting and swearing may give you a quick release of emotional energy, it is not going to benefit your relationships. And there is a lot of research that says the key to a happy life is positive relationships with those around you.
If I am honest, in the early part of my life, I did feel very much like a victim with little power. However, as my awareness and confidence grew, I realised being sorry for yourself and playing the victim is not helpful. That means seeing yourself not as powerless but as a strong intelligent person, a survivor, and yes, a fighter! And when you begin to stand up for yourself, respect will come automatically.
Whilst it is important to have a strong sense of your being or roots, it is also important, like the branches of a tree, to grow upwards and outwards, to become the person you can be and to realise your full potential. Connecting with other people and learning from them is important, but ultimately, you can only fully realise your potential by overcoming insecurity and shaping your own future.
Manjit Kaur, a UK-based therapist and counsellor, is a presenter at the 1 Show Live at Panjab Broadcasting Channel, UK. She can be contacted via email at manjitkaur1show@gmail.com
ASIA SAMACHAR is an online newspaper for Sikhs / Punjabis in Southeast Asia and beyond. When you leave a comment at the bottom of this article, it takes time to appear as it is moderated by human being. Unless it is offensive or libelous, it should appear. You can also comment at Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. You can reach us via WhatsApp +6017-335-1399 or email: asia.samachar@gmail.com. For obituary announcements, click here
Maharaja Ranjit Singh was one of India’s most powerful kings who united the warring chieftains of Punjab and unified the mighty Sikh empire. Maharaja Ranjit Singh was renowned for his excellent military prowess and administrative skills. He is also known in history for being the master of the Kohinoor diamond and for covering Sri Harmandir Sahib with sheets of gold.
But Maharaja Ranjit Singh’s social reforms have received little attention, especially the progressive steps he took in the area of education. The Maharaja cared deeply for his people and wanted to use education as a means to elevate their quality of life.
It was a seemingly impossible task as the Maharaja had to build an education system from the ground up. Moreover, Maharaja Ranjit Singh himself had received little formal education as he chose the path of a warrior and a leader while still in his teens.
The empire he founded lacked a tradition in learning and education was limited to the royal class and the wealthy. The most prominent among the institutions that catered to these classes was the Mian Wadde da Madrasa, a traditional school attached to the mausoleum of religious leader Mian Wadda in Lahore. Opened centuries before Sikh rule began, it was meant only for the sons of royals, aristocrats and the wealthy, and imparted a Quranic education.
Much of what we know of the Maharaja’s educational reforms comes from the work of British scholar and traveller, Gottlieb Wilhelm Leitner, author of History of Indigenous Education in the Punjab: Since Annexation And in 1882. In his work, Leitner says there was no dearth of money to set up schools and other institutions of learning in Punjab. Leitner writes, “Punjab has this tradition whereby the most unscrupulous chief, the avaricious money-lender, and even the freebooter, vied with the small land-owner in making peace with his conscience by founding schools and rewarding the learned. There is not a mosque, a temple, a dharmsala that had not a school attached to it.”
Funding came even from royal families and the Maharaja’s treasure. These grants were distributed to educational centres affiliated to various faiths across the empire. The Sikh rule was preceded by the centuries of Mughal rule in Punjab when the most famous schools set in the region were madrassas, where students of all faiths attained education. Thus, Ranjit Singh, despite being the Sikh ruler, didn’t change the popular setting, and many of the early schools set up by him were madrassas, which already had been quite a popular form of educational institutions in his reign. Ranjit Singh not only gave those generous donations, he even commissioned a few in Lahore.
It wasn’t only the Maharaja who patronised education. His family too was keen on promoting learning, including his wife, Moran Sarkar, who set up two madrasas in Lahore. The first was adjacent to her haveli or mansion, attached to the mosque built by her in the Papad Mandi area of the walled city. Although her haveli no longer exists, a modest girl’s training school runs in the premises of the mosque even today. The second madrasa built by her was attached to the shrine of 16th-century Sufi saint Madho Lal Hussain at Baghbanpura in Lahore.
Traditional gurukuls and Gurmukhi schools, too, were opened under Ranjit Singh’s reign and they focused on the Sanskrit and Gurmukhi (Punjabi) languages, respectively. There were also specialist Mahajani schools, which focused on bazaar, trading and economic activities that were crucial to the merchant classes.
Many of the Gurmukhi schools operated from the bungas or the large bungalows situated in the porikrama or circumambulation path of the Sri Harmandir Sahib or Golden Temple. Although these bungas were originally built to ensure the temple’s protection, once the threat to the shrine receded, their functions evolved with the changing times and education became a focus area.
Thanks to Ranjit Singh, vocational craft schools too were opened across the empire, and they taught in miniature painting, sketching, drafting, architecture and calligraphy. In a very progressive step for the mid-19th century, schools for girls were also opened in many places.
BEGINNINGS OF A SECULAR EDUCATION
While the early institutions were largely religious, the Maharaja recognised the need to expose the people of Punjab to secular education and contemporary trends in the field learning. Leitner in his work says that along with languages and religion, the study of grammar, literature, philosophy, rhetoric, astronomy, law, logic, philosophy, arithmetic and geometry, all which could be termed as the secular education in the existing religious schools of the kingdom. However, he fails to provide the exact timeline of these developments.
At the end of his rule in the 1830s, Ranjit Singh took another leap forward and started to encourage the learning of English in the schools of Lahore, including the royal Mian Wadde da Madrasa, for which he hired a Christian teacher. Unlike the religious freedom enjoyed by Hindus and Muslims in schools run by their respective communities, the Christian teacher, whose faith was alien to the majority of masses was barred from promoting Christianity in any way.
Not only was education promoted in a big way in the Sikh Empire, but it also fired the imagination of the people, who were hungry to learn. The Lahore District Report (1860) says that on the eve of the colonial control of Punjab (1849-50), the capital city Lahore alone had 576 schools with 4,225 students on their rolls. It adds that in all of Punjab, there were at least 3.3 lakh students “learning high-standard Oriental literature, Oriental law, logic, philosophy and medicine in Persian, Arabic and Sanskrit in various institutions”. Moreover, Lahore had 18 formal schools for girls besides specialist schools for technical training, languages, mathematics and logic affiliated to Hindu, Muslim and Sikh institutions.
QAIDA NOOR: A NOVEL METHOD
Although education had caught on in a big way in the Sikh Empire, Ranjit Singh wanted to make sure it did not flag in the rural areas in Punjab. He wanted to make sure that even if children here were not as inclined to attend school as were their urban counterparts, they should at least be able to read and write. To achieve this, he devised the novel ‘Qaida’ system.
According to Leitner, Ranjit Singh appointed his well-read general, Fakir Syed Nur-ud-Din, the younger brother of the empire’s Foreign Minister Fakir Aziz ud-Din, to design a course for this purpose. Fakir Nur-ud-Din prepared a Qaida or booklet titled Noor (light) that helped one learn the basic alphabets and elementary writing in the key languages of Gurmukhi, Shahmukhi, Urdu and Persian. The booklet also included a basic course in elementary and everyday mathematics.
About 5,000 copies of the booklet were prepared and distributed among the numberdars, or village heads, across Punjab. Each numberdar was directed to learn the Qaida Noor in three months, and then hand out five copies to five people in the village. He was further required to personally write a letter to Maharaja Ranjit Singh, stating that he had learnt to write and had distributed five copies of the Qaida Noor, as required.
This process was repeated with each of the five people who received a copy from the numberdar, who in turn repeated it with five other people. Thus, a chain reaction was started to educate the people of Punjab. In the beginning, many numberdars did not take the exercise seriously and failed to send letters to the Maharaja. These numberdars were removed from their positions, to set an example to the others.
THE ‘FALL’ OF PUNJAB’S EDUCATION SYSTEM
In the 38 years of his rule, Maharaja Ranjit Singh created a robust education system in Punjab but after his death in 1839, the fate of Punjab changed forever. Ranjit Singh’s successors were deposed and killed in quick succession due to several assassination plots carried out by the ambitious ministers, and also due to the internal dissatisfaction by the members of the royal family with each other. This led to a period of great instability. It was the chance the British East India Company was waiting for and it took control of the empire’s territories, assimilating them with the colonial territories after winning the two decisive Anglo-Sikh Wars, which concluded in 1849.
It was a death blow to the fabulous system of learning founded by Ranjit Singh. The new British government wanted to focus on a secular and modern system of education and did not allow classic languages: Persian and Sanskrit to be taught in Punjab’s schools. These were replaced with Urdu and English as the medium of instruction. The new political dispensation also halted all funding to traditional, religious schools. They called their teachings unscientific and claimed they were spreading old and outdated ways of thinking. Grants-in-aid was henceforth given only to schools and colleges run by European managements.
The quaint but effective Qaida system was also crushed. Government officials confiscated the few Qaidas they could find; most of them had been hidden away by the people of Punjab in their homes, in memory of their late king and lost kingdom. The rest was brutally wrenched from families during the Revolt of 1857, and burnt by the government, thus bringing the golden era of educational growth in Punjab to an end.
In the following decades of the 19th century, a new model of education was introduced in Punjab under the British. Critics say that although it produced many educated geniuses, education among the masses declined because the new system was out of the common man’s reach. Even as regions like the Bengal Presidency were making strides in education, Punjab was mourning its rich but forgotten legacy.
The first English school in Punjab was established in Lahore only a few months after the British took control of the Sikh Empire in March 1849. They allowed two American Presbyterian missionaries, Reverends John Newton and Charles Forman, to set it up in Lahore in December of the same year.
In the early 1860s, the British established numerous colleges, including Government College, Lahore; Glancy Medical College and Forman Christian College; Lawrence College, Murree; and King Edward Medical University. Gottlieb Wilhelm Leitner, who was earlier a professor of Arabic and Islamic Law at King’s College, London, was the driving force behind Government College (now university) and also instrumental in laying the foundation of another prominent institution in Lahore, the University of Panjab, to which the Government College was later, affiliated.
In 1882, Leitner published his detailed report titled History of Indigenous Education in the Punjab: Since Annexation and in 1882, in which he lamented the death of traditional, indigenous education in Punjab. An ardent supporter of a blend between traditional learning and modern, secular education, he claimed that the number of students enrolling for education in Punjab under the British had nearly halved from Maharaja Ranjit Singh’s time. He also claimed that the Sikh Empire had more scholars and intellectuals before the British took over.
Whether or not Leitner was biased, the fact remains that Maharaja Ranjit Singh, also populary known as the Sher-e-Punjab, led his people with great foresight. He gave them what is perhaps the greatest gift of all – the gift of learning and the means to build a good life.
Aashish Kochar is a history enthusiast from Amritsar who did his bachelor’s in History from Jamia Millia Islamia and is currently pursuing his Master’s from the Centre for Historical Studies, Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi. The article was first published at Peepul Tree
ASIA SAMACHAR is an online newspaper for Sikhs / Punjabis in Southeast Asia and beyond. When you leave a comment at the bottom of this article, it takes time to appear as it is moderated by human being. Unless it is offensive or libelous, it should appear. You can also comment at Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. You can reach us via WhatsApp +6017-335-1399 or email: asia.samachar@gmail.com. For obituary announcements, click here
Gurnam Singh in 1981 in Southall during his university days in West London.
By Gurnam Singh | Opinion |
The below picture captures a moment in 1981 in Southall during my university days in West London. I was at the tender, impressionable age of 21, and 43 years later, looking back on those times, all I can say is, “doesn’t time fly!” The swift passage of four decades marks my transformation from youthful exuberance to seasoned maturity. Though, in all honesty, I find myself occasionally regressing.
During those formative years in the UK, it wasn’t the norm for individuals, especially in my age group, to don the traditional Sikh warrior attire. I was among the few amritdhari Sikhs embracing the distinctive look. For me, this choice wasn’t merely a fashion statement; against the background radiation of racism, it represented a profound chapter in my journey to rediscover my hitherto largely discarded historical, linguistic, and cultural heritage.
The reminiscence of those days brings forth a tangible connection to the past, emphasizing the enduring significance of culture and identity in developing self-esteem. The traditional bana and weapons, once symbolic of a fervent embrace of Sikhi, now serve as poignant artifacts linking the vibrant and idealistic youth of 1981 to what I feel, though some may disagree, is the more reflective, pragmatic, and less impatient person I am today,
Despite the passage of time, my enduring love and respect for bana remain steadfast. However, a touch of melancholy creeps in when witnessing contemporary Sikhs, often dressed in warrior attire, expressing anger towards each other, be it on social media or in the precincts of Gurdwaras worldwide.
Sometimes these conflicts are over deep ideological rifts, notably in relation to the issue of Sikh nationalism and support for Khalistan. But more often, they are related to petty issues regarding daily religious routines, such as whether one can consume meat, the length of prayers, appearance, and also the status of secondary texts.
This observation prompts a deeper realization of the essence of true Sikhi, emphasizing the delicate equilibrium between the spirited energy of a warrior and the serene composure of a saint. I have come to realize that in order to transform the world, one also needs to transform oneself first. Over time, adopting a more reflective mode of thinking and acting, one realizes change is possible but cannot be forced; you have to convince others through reason and love.
In the twilight of my 64th year, officially stepping into the realm of old age, the occasional urge to wear traditional attire resurfaces. Yet, the focus has evolved. Rather than external appearances, my attention is now drawn to the spiritual, ethical, and philosophical dimensions of Sikhi. The bana and weapons, though cherished, remain important symbols of my transformative journey, reflecting the growth from seeking external approval to the internal pursuit of spiritual depth and understanding.
Gurnam Singh is an academic activist dedicated to human rights, liberty, equality, social and environmental justice. He is an Associate Professor of Sociology at University of Warwick, UK. He can be contacted at Gurnam.singh.1@warwick.ac.uk
* This is the opinion of the writer and does not necessarily represent the views of Asia Samachar.
ASIA SAMACHAR is an online newspaper for Sikhs / Punjabis in Southeast Asia and beyond. When you leave a comment at the bottom of this article, it takes time to appear as it is moderated by human being. Unless it is offensive or libelous, it should appear. You can also comment at Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. You can reach us via WhatsApp +6017-335-1399 or email: asia.samachar@gmail.com. For obituary announcements, click here
With profound grief and sorrow, we are deeply saddened to announce the demise of our beloved mother Mata Jeet Kaur w/o Late Sardar Jaswant Singh on 3rd October 2023
Sri Akhand Path will be held from 6th to 8th October 2023 (Friday to Sunday) at her residence (868B, Jalan Besar, Pandamaran 42000 Port Klang)
Antim Ardaas & Kirtan Darbar will be held on 8th October (Sunday) from 10.30 am to 12.00 noon, at Gudwara Sahib Port Klang.
For further details, please contact: Harnaik Singh – 016 323 1521 Tarlochn Singh (Torchie) – 017 881 7889 Dr. Avthar Singh – 012 311 1769
| Entry: 3 Oct 2023; Updated: 6 Oct 2023 | Source: Family
ASIA SAMACHAR is an online newspaper for Sikhs / Punjabis in Southeast Asia and beyond. When you leave a comment at the bottom of this article, it takes time to appear as it is moderated by human being. Unless it is offensive or libelous, it should appear. You can also comment at Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. You can reach us via WhatsApp +6017-335-1399 or email: asia.samachar@gmail.com. For obituary announcements, click here
