How Pro-India Actors Undermined The Concept of Langar & Fractured Sikhs

The asinine "tables and chairs issue" of the 90s was engineered to poison Sikh institutions, fracture the community, and bolster pro-India propaganda in Metro Vancouver and beyond.

Harjote Singh
September 12, 2024 | 12 min. read | Analysis

“Why are those people sitting on the ground in that room?”

That was the question my Christian friend asked the three of us, all Sikhs, as we sat at tables in an interior British Columbia gurdwara’s langar hall.

She was asking about someone who had taken her langar past the tables and chairs and instead sat on floor mats in a closet-sized enclave. Before I could formulate a response, my Sikh friend responded, “Some people are weird,” and that was that.

The response did not seem ill-intentioned - it was likely that was the only explanation she herself had ever received about people who ate langar on the ground. Not wanting to offend our other friend whose family was sincerely engaged in the langar seva, I stayed silent.

At the bare minimum, I should have clarified that if I was to partake in langar, I, too, would only eat on the ground. I should have blurted the short answer to my friend’s question, that furniture in langar halls is antithetical to Sikh philosophy and its continued presence is arguably one result of India’s foreign interference.

The longer answer, which I often struggle to articulate in situations like these, is as follows.

What is Langar - the History and Purpose of the Hallowed Institution

The origins of langar trace back to an adolescent Guru Nanak’s sacha sauda, where the first Guru repurposed their father’s business seed capital to feed starving people near modern-day Lahore. Guru Angad Dev Ji would then institutionalize langar at all Sikh gurdwaray, making it organized, permanent, and accessible. Guru Amar Das Ji famously refused to meet with the Mughal Emperor Akbar until he physically sat on the ground with the general congregation to partake in langar. Further, the third Guru refused Akbar’s generous offers of endowment, choosing to operate langar with only the sangat’s spiritually-imbued offerings. Today, Guru Ram Das Ji’s darbar continues to serve hundreds of thousands of people daily in the heart of Amritsar.

Though langar is commonly translated to mean “free kitchen,” it is much more significant than free food.

Langar is, first and foremost, a spiritual practice that can only begin with an ardaas before the Guru. Its raw components are sourced from the sangat’s donations and prepared into meals by sevadaars in the presence of sacred bani. Once prepared, langar cannot be served until sevadaars obtain the Guru’s permission through ardaas and bhog. The distribution of langar usually occurs by the gurdwara entrance so that any person may eat without embarrassment. All those who are able to lower both their bodies and egos to the ground to partake in the Guru’s langar so that not only is the sangat equal in stature, but it is also in a state of spiritual humility.

Finally, langar itself is a revolution. At the time of its institution, the hierarchical Hindu caste system reigned supreme in India, as “lower-caste” Dalits faced oppression from “upper-caste” Brahmins. By merging the principles of equality and humility, langar exalted the downtrodden and humbled the extravagant by having them sit side by side and accept food from the same cauldron. In this way, langar rebuked false, hypocritical social hierarchies in practice, creating space for the development of new social relations.

The Origins of Furniture in Langar Halls, Western Encroachment, and Reform

The introduction of tables and chairs in gurdwara langar halls is strictly a diasporic phenomenon.

The first instance of furniture in a langar hall, as per Dr. Mahinder Singh Dhillon’s “A History Book of the Sikhs in Canada and California,” traces back to the January 19, 1908 inauguration of the first North American gurdwara located at West 2nd Avenue, Vancouver, BC. At the time, Sikhs reportedly included special arrangements to supply tables and chairs, forks and knives, and other necessary material to host invited whites and non-Sikhs. Whether the Sikhs initially intended the furniture be temporary is unclear, but many newly-constructed North American gurdwaray followed suit and furnished their langar halls.

The furniture is but one example of Western influences that Sikhs of the 20th century combatted.

In the first half of the 20th century, the thinly-populated but tight-knit Canadian Sikh community held each other strictly accountable, meaning gurdwara management was primarily of interest only to observant Sikhs. For example, the West 2nd Avenue gurdwara adopted early resolutions barring Sikhs that cut their hair (sehajdharis) or those partaking in intoxicants from holding gurdwara management positions.

However, two major events compromised the disciplinary vigilance that had generally prevailed in Canada. First, the final push for Indian independence drew groups of adherent Sikhs back to India under the Ghadar and Babbar Akali movements. Second, the post-British Raj era saw a relaxation of immigration laws in the Commonwealth, leading to an influx of Sikh immigrants to Canada.

The resulting leadership vacuum attracted community members to gurdwara management positions for their political influence and social exposure.

In the late 1960s and the 1970s, Dr. Dhillon records, visitors began regularly attending gurdwaray bare-headed and under the influence of alcohol, gurdwara management-elects with communist persuasions distributed atheistic literature, and committee members that regularly consumed alcohol and tobacco became common. In at least one extraordinary instance, gurdwara management in Yuba City installed furniture in the darbar hall, a move that was eventually rejected. Still, furniture in langar halls remained.

In the 1970s, Canadian Sikh activism mirrored the resurgence of Sikhi emerging in Panjab. The Shromani Akali Dal Association of Canada (“SADAC”) was an early Sikh sangat advocacy body in the diaspora independent of any gurdwara, the precursor to later organizations like the Federation of Sikh Societies and the World Sikh Organization. Instead of establishing its own gurdwara, as had become the trend, SADAC sought accountability from incumbent Canadian gurdwara management committees that were becoming increasingly detached from Sikhi.

SADAC’s reform objectives included eliminating alcohol and drugs in the possession of gurdwara management and sangat alike, protecting the sanctity of the darbar hall by ensuring covered heads and empowering Sikh speakers, and reintroducing pangat by removing furniture from langar halls.

While the reform measures were largely successful on other grounds, incumbent management resisted langar reform for reasons alien to Sikhi.

Mistakenly Rationalizing Furniture in Langar Halls

The primary rationale proffered in support of tables and chairs in langar halls was that the furniture is more comfortable and convenient, especially in the context of weddings, while retaining the principle of equality as everyone is seated equally. It is trite to say that comfort and convenience hold no spiritual weight in Sikh traditions (or any other faith, for that matter). Sikh tradition is replete with sacrifices to uphold the sanctity of gurdwaray.

The attempt to justify tables and chairs by arguing those seated are still equal not only dilutes the spirit of langar to mere food, but also misunderstands Sikh philosophy as a whole.

One of the five fundamental evils that Sikhi combats is the evil of egotism. Langar seating is not a matter of abstract positionality or seat height. Turning a blind eye to ego would justify installing thrones, extravagant silverware, or any other measure of pomp. The object of langar is not to equally inflate egos so that the sangat can dine feeling like self-important dignitaries. Guru Amar Das Ji did not conjure a throne to sit equal to Akbar. Instead, the Mughal emperor was made to sit on the floor among people he considered his subjects. One of the most important spiritual goals of langar is to demolish the partaker’s ego.

A rationale invoking physical accessibility, especially for seniors, also emerged, arguing furniture was necessary to accommodate those who could not sit on the ground. However, there was never a prohibition on sangat members using physical aids to participate in langar where necessary. For centuries, people with varying levels of physical ability all partook in langar without institutionalizing the installation of furniture.

This particular argument became increasingly disingenuous in the conflict outlined below, especially given that langar itself was precedential in addressing accessibility issues. Regardless, Sikh authority would later clarify the obvious - gurdwara management was to provide reasonable accommodation to anyone who needed it.

The tenuous strength of the above rationales was becoming increasingly apparent to the Canadian Sikh sangat, and reform measures gained traction. The tables and chairs debate would have been a non-issue if not, in part, for India’s interference in the affairs of Sikhs.

Sowing Division and Reaping Conflict in Sikh Communities

Nearly 50 years ago, Canadian intelligence identified that India regularly interfered with the Sikh community by influencing gurdwara elections in order to secure friendly pro-India committees, funding media outlets, pressuring Canadian politicians, and deploying local spies. However, measuring the actual consequences of this interference has been elusive until recently when the National Security of Intelligence Committee of Parliamentarians’ Special Report on Foreign Interference publicly confirmed much of this, citing India’s clandestine networks and use of proxies in Canada.

In the 1980s, India’s existing foreign interference underwent an aggressive evolution. While Sikh sensitivities in Canada mirrored those in Panjab, India’s retaliatory repression also correspondingly intensified in the diaspora.

Through the Canadian media, forces friendly to India declared there were two types of Canadian Sikhs: “moderates” and “fundamentalists.” News articles painted so-called “moderates” as pacifist and progressive model minorities while describing so-called “fundamentalists” as traditional hard-liners and extremists.

In Metro Vancouver, pro-India actors would effectively use those labels to fracture Sikh leadership at Khalsa Diwan Society Vancouver (“KDSV”) and Guru Nanak Sikh Gurdwara (“GNSG”), the two largest public gurdwaray in BC.

The most prominent fault line that would be used to divide the community? The so-called “tables and chairs issue.”

In 1995, a self-proclaimed “moderate” slate contested and won the GNSG election, which received unprecedented media coverage as pro-India provocateurs latched on to the “tables and chairs issue.” Immediately after the election, the media repeatedly expressed the “moderates’” concerns about Sikh “extremism” and “militarism” in BC. When a faction of Sikhs removed the furniture from GNSG’s langar hall in 1996 without “executive authorization,” the incumbent “moderates” described the incident as a criminal “assault” on gurdwara property and seniors. In contrast, the “fundamentalists” said the furniture was peacefully removed at the behest of the majority of gurdwara members. RCMP attended but arrested no one. Predictably, the media harped on the non-event for months.

The Akaal Takht’s Intervention

Any rationales justifying furniture in gurdwaray, whether innocuous or not, became irrelevant at the turn of the 20th century.

On April 25, 1998, the Sikh panth’s supreme temporal authority, the Akaal Takht, issued a hukamnama ordering the removal of tables and chairs from langar halls on pain of excommunication. When Sikhs raised concerns about accessibility for sangat members who were physically unable to sit on the ground, the Akaal Takht issued a supplementary clarification on October 24, 2000, ordering gurdwara committees to provide reasonable accommodations for such individuals. As such, the hukamnama should have effectively eliminated the most prominent ground of political posturing in gurdwara elections.

Instead, pro-India actors jumped on an opportunity to further inflame tensions within the community.

Through the Canadian media, “moderate” voices launched a direct assault on the authority of the Akaal Takht. Canadian journalists incorrectly described the hukamnama as an edict of “high priest” Ranjit Singh. Ranjit Singh, then serving as the Akaal Takht Jathedar, drew the Indian government’s animosity because he had in the past assassinated Gurbachan, head of the government-sponsored Nirankari sect responsible for the 1978 Vaisakhi slaughter of Sikhs.

The Canadian media described Ranjit Singh as a “hardliner,” undermined the hukamnama as his lone “edict,” and concluded Canadian adherents of that “edict” were, therefore, “fundamentalists.” The reporting ignored the fact that Ranjit Singh enjoyed popular support among Sikhs as a hero who exacted justice from a murderer that the Indian government was actively protecting. In addition to their erroneous reporting of the Akaal Takht’s role, the Sikh decision-making process, the role of a Jathedar, and the basic dynamics of India’s political and judicial climate, Canadian media outlets created a false dichotomy that Canadian Sikhs were either supportive of incumbent “moderates” or, otherwise, they were “hard-liners,” “extremists,” or “fundamentalists”.

Pro-India “moderates” also fueled legal disputes to fracture Sikh leadership. In 1996, KDSV management was initially split on the issue of tables and chairs, indicating there was less factional infighting than the media suggested. When two members of the KDSV committee were excommunicated in 1998 for openly opposing the hukamnama, the committee president attempted to unilaterally remove them from office. However, the majority of the KDSV committee (nine of 17 members) sided with the excommunicates and utilized BC’s Society Act to maintain control of KDSV. Having seized control, the faction lead by the excommunicates removed any dissidents from power and would later win the KDSV election as the “moderate” slate. In Surrey, the “moderate” president of GNSG was excommunicated at the same time as the two KDSV executives.

After the hukamnama, incumbent “moderate” executives and the Canadian media took every opportunity to broadly paint Sikhs as violent “extremists” and “fundamentalists.” For example, when a GNSG caretaker was murdered in 1998, GNSG’s “moderate” president baselessly cast suspicions on “fundamentalists,” suspicions the media used to sensationalize gurdwara conflicts. Five white supremacists were eventually charged with the caretaker’s tragic murder soon after.

Later that same year, the KDSV committee enlisted the Vancouver Police Department to preemptively close gurdwara access to the sangat that protested the excommunicated members, citing a “safety risk.” No clash materialized, though the media openly reported that violence was likely. Predictably, there was no corresponding reparation of the Sikh community’s reputation for either barrage of negative media coverage.

For the next ten years, “moderate” Sikh leadership and Canadian media weaved a tale of Sikh extremism, linking disparate topics such as the Air India bombing, BC gurdwara elections, Sant Jarnail Singh Bhindranwale, and Sikh activism in India and beyond. The stories were often riddled with falsities and exaggerations, while any criticism was subjected to accusations of extremist sympathies. When a progressive (yet “fundamentalist”) Sikh youth slate successfully contested the 2008 GNSG elections, “moderates” once again weaponized BC’s legal system to argue the youth slate was not duly nominated in accordance with GNSG’s procedural bylaws. Undeterred, the replacement Sikh youth slate decisively won the 2009 elections, ousting the “moderate” leadership despite a sustained smear campaign stoking fears of violence and an oppressive, rigid fundamentalist regime.

The defining election issue throughout it all remained the “tables and chairs” issue.

Sikh Acquiescence to the Ongoing Erosion of Langar

As long as tables and chairs in langar halls persist, India continues to effectively sow division within Canadian Sikhs. A slew of gurdwaray in Metro Vancouver, including KDSV, remain in violation of the 1998 hukamnama. These institutions continue to be “soft targets” or worse for Indian interference.

KDSV, for example, hosted Prime Minister Modi in 2015 despite broad backlash from the Sikh (and global) community.

However, the campaign of undermining the concept of langar had, and continues to have, devastating implications for Sikhs beyond any single gurdwara.

First, the “tables and chairs” red herring alienated at least three generations of Canadian Sikhs from their local gurdwaray. Rather than serving as the artistic, educational, and spiritual institutions they were designed to be, BC gurdwaray often represented strife and in-fighting for local Sikhs. Dismayed by confrontational politics, Sikhs found it more peaceful to simply not engage with gurdwaray at all.

Second, the Sikhs that did engage with compromised gurdwaray were fed misinformation and propaganda. In particular, pro-India “moderates” distorted the discourse surrounding the Sikh struggle against Indian oppression in Panjab. The pain Canadian Sikhs felt regarding the ongoing Sikh genocide in India was redirected towards Sikh activism itself. Even now, many Canadian Sikhs unknowingly parrot debunked Indian talking points regarding Sikh activism past and present, while a great deal more confess they feel only confusion and ignorance of the last 70 years of Sikh history.

Third, the distortion of langar has become a self-sustaining phenomenon. In an apparent effort to capture a portion of the lavish anand karaj market, even “panthic” gurdwara committees routinely install permanent or temporary furniture in or around their langar halls, often in gurdwara parking lots. This strange invention of parking lot tent seating bizarrely incentivizes lavish dining at gurdwaray, while discussions of langar spirituality die in empty langar halls. These measures are a superficial circumvention of the 1998 hukamnama and antithetical to Sikh philosophy generally. Would we next justify hosting banquets just outside Harimandar Sahib’s parikarma for “special guests” and doing away with Guru Ram Das Ji’s langar entirely? Note that the spiritual source of reverence for Harimandar Sahib - the Guru and the Guru panth - is the same for any gurdwara around the world.

Conclusion

While India’s assassination of Hardeep Singh Nijjar spotlighted their foreign interference, many Canadians, including Sikhs, fail to grasp the true toll extracted by pro-India actors and proxies over the past 50 years.

The slow poisoning of Sikh institutions has largely gone unnoticed and unchallenged. As a result, multiple generations of Canadian Sikhs were raised in a fog of misinformation and distrust as certain individuals compromised a core institution of Sikh philosophy - the langar.

Langar was designed to satiate a spiritual hunger and forge new social relations, but it is being diluted to something less. In order to reverse the erosion of Sikhi, we must embrace the humility and spirituality imbued in langar.

For the sangat’s consideration - please forgive my arrogance and any transgressions.

Harjote Singh hails from Surrey, BC, and has served various Metro Vancouver Sikh organizations for over 15 years. Harjote is a lawyer by profession, and all opinions expressed are his own.

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