By Manjit Kaur (UK) | OPINION |

Mention the word ‘rebel’ and alarm bells start ringing. In most societies, those labelled as rebels are seen as a threat, as disruptive dangerous people who have no respect for the law or authority. And for this reason, often those who choose the path of being a rebel end up suffering; they may become insulted, imprisoned and, in some cases, executed by those in power.

Put in simple terms, to be a rebel is to be seen as a bad person, and because of this most people reject the path, though thankfully not all! Ironically, though people fear rebels, without rebels and rebel thinking, society cannot change and develop. If one looks at any society, nation, faith or even family, it is often those who were labelled as rebels that leave their mark and are sometime even remembered as heroes.

If we think about Sikh history, no other than the founder, Guru Nanak Ji was seen as a rebel of his times. Guru Nanak’s rejection of many aspects of the dominant social order, of the caste system, of religious hate, of ritual worship, of gender discrimination, of all kinds of superstitious beliefs, meant that he too was labelled as a dangerous rebel. As he records in his own words, “Some speak of poor Nanak as a ghost; some say he is a demon. Some call him a mere mortal; searching for the divine King, Nanak has gone insane. But I know of none other than the divine soul. Pause. He alone is known to be insane, when he goes insane with the Fear of the One supreme entity. He alone is known to be insane, if he works for the only the One” (Maroo Mehla First, SGGS P991)

When you think of Guru Nanak, what comes to mind? A priest, a musician, a singer, a poet, a holy man, a traveller! Yes, Guru Nanak was all these things, but how often do we think of him as a rebel? Though rebels are presented in negative terms, they are also people who call and fight for social change. In other words, rebels are those people who challenge traditional thinking, practices and power in any one society. And if you look at Guru Nanak’s life and teachings, perhaps above all, he was indeed a rebel in the truest sense.

For me to be a rebel is not to be a ‘sheep’ but to be a courageous person who speaks truth to power. But how many of us can truly and honestly claim to be following the path of Guru Nanak? How many of us are prepared to speak out and challenge those in power today, be that in our families, community or society? For many years, I learnt to keep quiet, to not question, and to please others. At the time, I thought this was the right way to behave, that a good person was somebody who simply obeyed the orders given by others. Yes, people should think about their behaviour, yes, we should be polite and civil, and yes, we should take advise from others, but not at the point where we lose own sense of power and self.

Looking back to those early days, from childhood to my late teens, I felt that I was a non-person, that I had nothing to contribute to this world. And in my lowest moments, I felt my life was pointless and I was simply just drifting along in other people’s shadows. I was going to the Gurdwara, I was listening to Gurbani, and I was going to Kirtan programmes across the country, so I guess I was a ‘good’ girl. But on reflection, I realise I was simply behaving like a sheep, like a non-person who was too frightened to step out of line. But something happened in my life that enabled me to begin to see myself differently and it was then that I realised I was a rebel, or at least, this was what others thought.

Life is difficult for all women, but especially for those, like me, growing up in traditional Punjab families, where there was a lot of gender discrimination. But even in those early years, perhaps because I was born in the UK and so was exposed to the wider culture, I was always challenging my parents, and as a result became labelled as the ‘difficult one, as the ‘black sheep’ in the family. I can recall my father often saying that “I was a hard one to handle.”

LIFE AFTER MARRIAGE

But things really began to change after my marriage. Thankfully, I was able to challenge the practice of forced arranged marriage, which was normal for my parents. Though there was plenty of emotional pressure put on me, I managed to have a say in my marriage partner. I didn’t have a love marriage, but I did exercise the right to decide who I wanted to marry. And after rejecting quite a few potential husbands over a 2-year period, I eventually settled with Gurnam Singh, from Bradford. I didn’t know him at the time, other than what I had heard, and a brief family get-together. It was only once the marriage was confirmed that we really got to know each other. Amazingly, it was after our marriage that I realised the person I had married, though different in many ways, was also like me, a rebel who fought to make his own choices in life. However, because he was a boy, as he readily acknowledges, confronting traditional attitudes was much easier for him.

An interesting question for me is, was I born to be a rebel or was this something I became in my adult life? Though I had never planned to be a rebel, as far back as I can remember, I know I had a personality where, even if it was only in my mind, I was somebody who questioned everything.

FAMILY LIFE

But as the youngest sibling of four in quite a traditional family, speaking out was a dangerous thing to do, particularly in those days where one had little support outside of the family. My relationship with my parents, especially my father, was one of being told how to be. My father never explained anything to me; he just told me to do things and I had to obey, for he was seen as the head of the household. As for my Mum, though she looked after me with love and care, like many others of her generation, she also came across as a passive housewife, so wasn’t really a role model for me. Sadly, I know my Mum was/is proud of my achievements; it’s just that she never really managed to communicate this to me.

On the outside, my family came across as open, progressive, educated and successful. We had a business, we spoke at home in Punjabi and English, we had relative wealth and we had, as far as the community was concerned, a modern lifestyle. But beneath the surface, like many other similar Punjab families, traditional attitudes still existed. There were clear gender roles, restrictions on what I could wear, who I could meet and where I could go.

But if I am honest, though I had to follow the rules, I did not accept them, and in my own small way I would question and rebel against them. When I got older and more powerful, the conflict became more intense and I became labelled as the ‘black sheep’ of the family. I don’t want to suggest that my childhood or adult family life has been all negative, but as a girl and then woman, I have had to struggle against gender oppression, and in doing so, being lambed a ‘black sheep’ was natural.

Being a rebel, because of the reaction of the majority, might sound like not very good thing, but for me it’s not a matter of choice; I believe it was my destiny. Being a rebel does not mean I don’t care about anything or anyone. This is far from the truth and my motivation for challenging traditional attitudes and oppression against women and girls, is inspired by love and compassion for others. Indeed, as a follower of Guru Nanak, I take much strength and learning to challenge and support others, to see the importance of not standing still, but of growing and developing, both as an individual, but also a member of society.

MOMENT OF CHANGE

Though I was always resisting in subtle ways daily, sometimes, like most families, there were moments in my life that changed everything. One such moment was around the age of 16 years, when I decided to wear a dastar, which in those days was not normal, even for Amritdhari Sikh girls. Given I was brought up in a strict Amridhari family, where all the women wore keski (small turbans on a head knot) this might seem ironic, but I was told to remove it because they thought it was masculine and therefore would affect my prospects of marriage. I am pleased to say I resisted and though my dad didn’t speak to me for two weeks, I won the right to wear a dastar.

In some sense I took strength from this victory as it further confirmed my belief that without challenge, without making a demand, nothing changes. Here I am reminded of the words of African America anti-slavery freedom fighter Frederik Douglas who said “If there is no struggle, there is no progress …Power concedes nothing without a demand. It never did and it never will.” One of the most important lessons I have learnt being a rebel is that this is not a part-time thing. Ones whole life become a struggle with and against power, and for this reason, you may not be that popular, though you will be respected.

A few years after the dastar incident, when I turned 20, my family became active in looking for a suitable marriage partner. My mum would show me pictures of people from both the UK and India, often with impressive credentials, but being the person I was, and with the growing confidence to exercise my own judgement, I resisted all their attempts to ‘arrange’ my marriage. To their frustration and sometimes anger, I would go along to please them, but then later disagree. This emphasis on personal choice, contradicted the traditional idea of an arranged marriage, where the feelings and wishes of the extended family were almost of more importance than the bride and groom. In an age and system where this was a normal expectation, perhaps it worked, but in today’s global society and human rights culture, forced marriages are simply not acceptable!

GENDER STEREOTYPES

As well as being a successful businessman, great Gursikh who did a lot for Sikhi and charity in Punjab, in some senses my dad was a perfect role model for me. However, because of his own upbringing, he did carry deep-rooted gender attitudes which, even after my marriage, were always a source of tension. I can remember of one occasion visiting my parents dressed in trousers but was told by my dad to change my clothes, which made me very sad and angry resulting in me breaking contact for a brief period, until my mum persuaded me to visit them. Eventually, my dad began to open-up and I did confront him about my feelings of mistreatment. To my pleasant surprise, he did apologise and from then on, we became very close, and our relationship was transformed; from seeing me as a rebel black sheep, he came to respect me for who I was and for my achievements.

While there can be no excuse for the oppressive attitudes from men I experienced growing up and still do, I think there is a general pattern of misogyny, especially amongst Punjabi men that needs understanding. Most, but thankfully not all, traditional Punjabi men will have experienced strict parenting, which would have included emotional and physical violence, and socialisation where they will have been exposed to stereotypes about a ‘proper man’ being somebody who is tough, who does not express their emotions. I know life for my dad was hard and I rarely saw him express his emotions, other than anger! So, for him to open-up to me and admit his failings must have been a great challenge and I suspect relief for him.

Though there has been massive change, sadly, and especially within the Punjab community, I feel gender stereotypes are still quite strong and a cause of much conflict within families. Being a rebel for me means constantly fighting for the rights and freedoms of individuals, even if this means going against cultural norms and traditions. After all, isn’t this the path that Guru Nanak travelled? The long walk to freedom is a journey of a lifetime and so the struggle for rebels like me becomes a way of life. Now that I am a mother and grandmother, I am having to think deeply about how I treat and teach my children, and what their expectations of me are. And let’s not forget my partner, who I must admit still holds onto some old-fashioned Punjabi male attitudes, though I must say, he is much changed.

For all societies and communities to progress, outdated and oppressive attitudes and rules will need to be broken. But there is no perfect arrangement or end point to the struggle for equality and justice. Being a free person does not mean that others should think and behave like you. Our humanity is based on our uniqueness and our similarities. This means we need to appreciate each other’s strengths and weaknesses, dreams and fears, and through a combination of love, kindness and determination, we can help each other to reach our full potential.

Every generation has its challenges, my parents had theirs; I had mine, and our children and grandchildren have theirs. The way forward is to make little changes, but occasionally also to make big changes that require radical action. Being labelled a ‘rebel’ is meant to be an insult, but history tells us otherwise. In truth, without rebels there would be no progress. And as for Sikhs and Sikhi, the lives and teachings of our great Gurus, saints and warriors are the embodiment of rebel thinking and acting. I must end by thanking Guru Granth Sahib ji who has been the greatest source of strength and guidance for me through my life, in good times and bad.

Manjit Kaur, a UK-based therapist and counsellor, is a presenter of the 1 Show on Akaal Channel. She can be contacted via email at manjitkaur1show@gmail.com

RELATED STORY:

Living in the ‘real’ world: Some personal reflections (Asia Samachar, 5 April 2022)

ASIA SAMACHAR is an online newspaper for Sikhs / Punjabis in Southeast Asia and beyond.Facebook | WhatsApp +6017-335-1399 | Email: editor@asiasamachar.com | Twitter | Instagram | Obituary announcements, click here |