Author: Omer Farooq Khan
Publication: The Times of India
Date: March 2, 2010
URL: timesofindia.indiatimes.com/india/Sikhs-in-Pakistan-Citizen-Alien/articleshow/5631542.cms
But for his blue turban and flowing beard
there's almost nothing to distinguish Charanjit Singh, 78, from other residents
of this northwestern Pakistani city. Dressed in a Pathan suit, he speaks fluent
Pashto. He might be the stereotypical Pathan. Except that he is Sikh. He is
the patriarch of a large Sikh family in nondescript Mohallah Jogan Shah here,
which made headlines recently when the Taliban beheaded a local, Jaspal Singh.
An estimated 380 Sikh families live in Mohallah Jogan Shah.
It is fair to say they live in exceedingly
difficult times. Charanjit and others like him are intertwined with the history
of Pakistan and Peshawar in particular, which they call 'home'. And yet, they're
Citizen 'Alien'.
REAL HOME: But Peshawar was not always home
to Charanjit. He migrated in 1997 from the Khyber Agency's Tirah Valley in
the tribal northwest. An estimated 80% of the Sikh families who migrated to
Peshawar came from three tribal regions - Orakzai, Kurram and Khyber.
The migration started in the mid-1980s at
the peak of the Afghan jihad. At the time, the area was the launchpad for
thousands of US-backed anti-Soviet fighters. But the fighters' presence didn't
change traditional life too much and the Sikhs lived in harmony with their
tribal neighbours. But when the region became a sanctuary for Taliban and
al-Qaida fugitives on the run from Afghanistan, the migration became a flood.
Charanjit says some Sikhs moved to Peshawar
after the historic shrine of Gurdwara Bhai Joga Singh re-opened in 1981. But
the main reason for leaving the volatile tribal regions was the Taliban's
rise to prominence. They made life unbearable for minorities. They found it
particularly difficult because till then, they had been part of a traditional
tribal set-up, which treated them as Dhimmis or a protected minority.
They had another reason to be bitter in the
1980s. Ten gurdwaras were under government control since Partition and an
anguished Charanjit recounts their fate since: "Some were turned into
schools and colleges and hired by non-Sikhs."
AURANGZEB'S HAND: How did these Sikhs end
up in Pakistan? Ironically, it was to escape the persecution unleashed by
Aurangzeb in the 17th century. Many migrated to the mountainous tribal areas
of what would later become Pakistan because Pashtun tribesmen offered them
sanctuary, says Jagat Singh, who lives in Peshawar. The region was always
known to have rigid Islamist views but the tribals were hospitable, he says.
It helped, he adds, that the Sikhs displayed "the ability to integrate
into the local culture.''
They spoke the local Pashto dialect and followed
local customs. Farhad Afridi of Tirah Valley says, "They were as illiterate
and strong-headed as the Afridis and the Orakzais, but like other Pathans,
were loyal. Their hospitality was proverbial -- every household kept separate
utensils for their Muslim friends.''
It helped the estimated 10,000 Sikhs living
in Pakistan's North West Frontier Province thrive over the years as traders,
shopkeepers and farmers. Often, they became the backbone of the middle classes.
Many were descended from families that stayed on after Partition, protected
by the ultra-secular volunteers of Frontier Gandhi, Khan Abdul Gaffar Khan's
Khudai Khidmatgar.
But the old order gave way to the new. Young
Sikhs were increasingly inclined towards getting an education. "They
not only went to secular schools, but also attended religious studies at Guru
Angadh Devjee's Khalsa Tharmak,'' says Jagat. This was a far cry from their
tribal forefathers who underwent only five years of religious schooling in
Gurmukhi.
A DIFFERENT WORLD: 9/11 changed everything.
For everyone, but it was especially nightmarish for local tribesmen who had
to face relentless American drone attacks and military operations by the Pakistan
army. "Hundreds of people died in the attacks,'' says Jagat.
But as fighting gripped Swat after Pakistan
launched an operation to oust the Taliban in April 2009, it was a Sikh doctor,
Gian Singh, who remained in the city hospital. The rest of its staff had fled.
"We lived with the local people like brothers. I even treated wounded
Taliban who were brought to my clinic,'' says Gian Singh.
But he admits that the arrival of Taliban
fighters, brandishing AK-47s steamrollered tolerance and it now became impossible
for Sikhs to stay on in these tribal areas. The Taliban offered three options
to non-Muslims: Embrace Islam; pay protection money or vacate the area.
"For the Taliban, it was collection of
protection money (Jizya) that helped them get funds for arms and ammunition,''
says Prakash Singh, a college student. His own family in Orakzai Agency refused
to pay up and left the area. "If ordinary Muslims live in fear of the
Taliban, what sort of future can we minorities hope for?'' he says.
TALIBAN DIKTAT: To make matters worse, Taliban
commander Hakimullah Mehsud, who died in a recent attack, ordered the demolition
of 11 Sikh houses in Orakzai Agency after these families refused to pay up.
Mehsud is believed to have declared: "Sharia has been enforced in the
area and every non-Muslim has to pay the protection money." But roughly
35 Sikh families found themselves unable to raise the Rs 150 million required.
They were forced to move from Feroze Khel to nearby Merozai in Lower Orakzai
Agency.
The Taliban occupied Sikh houses and took
charge of their businesses. Paying Jizya didn't guarantee security. Last month,
Tariq Afridi, a Taliban commander, abducted three Sikhs, including Jaspal
from Khyber Agency. The rest is history.
And yet, despite the harsh ground realities,
these Peshawari Sikhs long for their tribal homeland. "If the situation
returns to normal there, we'll go back. We have property there and above all,
we're nostalgic about the area,'' says Suraj Prakash Singh, a shopkeeper.
Home, even in Taliban heartland, is where
the heart is.
