Though they form a very small percentage of the Indian population, Sikhs live large in the Indian consciousness.

From their resistance against the British in the eighteenth century to the events preceding and following the assassination of Indira Gandhis, Sikhs have factored prominently in the mind of the subcontinent, be it in representations on India to the world or to Indians themselves. What becomes interesting about Sikhs is that though ideologically prominent, they are almost entirely absent from the Indian literary cannon in English. Our concern here is literary representation of Sikhs. Thus it is of some import to recognise that Sikh authors of English are themselves quite few. Most prominent is Khushwant Singh, whose novel Train to Pakistan was one of the definitive descriptions of Partition. Kattar Singh Duggal and Rajinder Singh Bedi are perhaps the only other writers of the older generation. Currently, a few diaspora writers, such as Amjer Rode, Shauna Singh Baldwin write about Sikhs and the experience of the Sikh religion. This does raise the important point about what constitutes a Sikh and writing about Sikhs since, as McLeod suggests in Who is a Sikh?, even within the relatively strict doctrines of Sikhism, Sikh identity is nonetheless quite fluid. We will, therefore, limit ourselves to characters explicitly labelled as Sikh within the texts, and will not try to make inferences. An acknowledged problem of this paper is the inability to deal with non-English, specifically Punjabi, texts; however, although there are inherent dangers in limiting oneself to English authors from India, I do not believe it is a handicap here. Rather, this is a study specifically of how Sikhs are represented and marginalised in Anglo-Indian texts, and thus our purpose becomes a critique of these representations within a English-speaking academic context.

The relational socio-historical position of Sikhs is not a topic for discussion here, as it would be impossible to do it any justice. In order to provide some frame of reference for Sikh representation however, some mention of context is necessary. Sikhs are by and large not an economically depressed minority. Far from it, the strong agriculture based economy of Punjab has resulted in many Sikhs being land-owners and business men. However, Sikhs are by the very definition of their faith, most notably in the Five Ks as prescribed by Guru Gobind Singh, a visible minority, and have suffered as such. Post-Partition Punjab left the Sikhs at a severe disadvantage, as a primarily agricultural community had been deprived of its land. As Keppley notes in her Faith and Nation, abuses against Sikhs are numerous and [r]eports of Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch are replete with them (10). Thus it must be stressed that the purpose of this paper is not simply literary, but is a politically-motivated analysis of the manner in which Sikhs are represented in literature. I cannot claim this to be an exhaustive survey of Sikhs in Indian literature in English. Indeed, it is not an attempt. Rather than attempt to critique all representations of Sikhs, it is instead intended as a preliminary analysis with the primary motive of delineating the literary and narrative mechanisms by which Sikhs are marginalised in texts. I do this not only with the intention of exposing the methods of Othering to which Sikhs are subjected but also as a first step in a line of academic work that takes up and challenges the representation of Sikhs. What becomes challenging about such an analysis, however, is the general dearth of specific theoretical tools at ones disposal. Even a thorough search of the Modern Languages Association results in no articles pertaining to the representation or position of Sikhs within literature and indeed, while a very tiny selection of secular critical work about Sikhs in literature exists, it is in the New Critical model and unhelpful here. Thus, we must formulate a basic theoretical approach, pilfering and adapting other theoretical modes and schools so

that such an analysis may be thorough and fruitful, taking into account the unique hierarchies at work in literature from the subcontinent. Perhaps most useful to us in understanding the nature of representation of others in an unequal power context is Edward Said. Although the concept text as simply mimetic action is now thoroughly deconstructed, Saids analysis of such an approach bears repeating here. In The Text, The World, The Critic, Said warns against allowing too free an approach to interpretation. Rather, texts are themselves expressions of socio-ideological forces and an exclusivist conception of the text. ignores the ethnocentrism and the erratic will to power from which texts can spring (184, my italics). Thus, we must remain conscious of not only how representations are manifested but also the context they take place in, notably here, a lack of any real critical work in English about Sikhs in literature. As Said suggests in Representing the Colonised: Anthropologys Interlocutors, in such a context representation becomes significant, not just as an academic or theoretical quandary but as a political choice (224). Said, of course, speaks to imperial power dynamics, one that we cannot neatly transpose to the majority/minority dynamics of the Sikh position. However, the widespread lack of Sikh voice and thus the representation of Sikhs means that a critical stance of some kind must be taken. To unpack the relevance of Said to this discussion, it is useful to look at sociologist Himani Bannerji. In Inventing Subjects, Bannerji points to the lived implications of hegemonic representation in the British academic construction of India. Rather than mere academic truth or falsity Bannerji suggests that the cultural-moral construction of India as a category can never be underestimated, especially with regard to mediating knowledge relationships between knower an known (26). Thus representations are not merely about narratives constricted to the literary as such but are involved in the intellectual and

sociological process of constructing Other and Self. Though the focus of this essay is and indeed, by the nature of the material, must be the literary processes by which Sikhs are marginalised, clearly, it is such theoretical discourses that ground the paper as a whole. I wish to examine the representation of Sikhs in following texts: the short stories Desecration and Passion fromb Out of India by Ruth Prawer Jabhvala; Bharati Mukherjees Jasmine; A Fine Balance by Rohinton Mistry; Cracking India by Bapsi Sidhwa. Of these texts, Cracking India is the only one to deal with Sikhs in any explicit way, and will therefore be largely dealt with separately. What I wish to suggest is that Sikhs are marginalised primarily by four literary mechanisms: silencing, whether that be literal or narrative; constructing the Sikh as a body, inherently physical in nature in all that that entails, namely sexuality, violence and primitiveness; the most concrete occurs through an invocation and narratological manifestation of the warrior-saint Sikh stereotype violent, unthinking, inherently masculine, reactionary and ultimately, inhuman; and the final mechanism occurs through the construction of Sikh as mere symbolic agents of historical or narrative function, and thus, negates personal and subjective agency. Fundamentally, I wish to posit that the Sikh representations are constructed as a strategic Other against which protagonists can define and oppose themselves, denying Sikh characters the most basic of narrative needs: subjectivity. As Sikhs are both silent and silenced in these texts, it often becomes necessary to approach them with an analysis of negation, an examination of what is not said as much as what is presented. Jhabvalas Out of India is perhaps most pertinent here, as the Sikh characters in two short stories Desecration and Passion are largely mute. In Passion, the Sikh character Manny would seem to be educated and thus it is not surprising that Betty talked to him about India Indian philosophy, or music, or about the current

political situation (Jhabvala 89). However, that Manny never made any kind of remark that could be construed as a comment on (89) the discussion leads us to believe that Manny is being spoken at rather than spoken to. Indeed, he hardly [says] anything at all (89) suggesting that Manny is simply an object to facilitate and justify to discussion, rather than being an active participant. Further to this, his entirely speechless act of sexual aggression, where literally he jumped on [Betty] (91), seems to suggest an unspoken, and potentially primitive passion. Indeed, the title of the story seems to be personified by the Sikh character. It is here that the problematic notion of this representation becomes clear, since Manny then is not a character as such, but a mere symbol, an actant who moves the plot along. Mannys silence can also thus be read as a generalised stereotype, both primal and quintessentially male a Sikh trait that will emerge more clearly in Cracking India. This present absence of Sikh silence also exists in Jasmine. The Khalsa Lions are always described but barely speak themselves. The narrative consequence of such silence becomes clear in the flippant remark of the protagonists father that in Lahore even the Sikhs were men of culture (Mukherjee 50). Though not much by itself it elucidates two points: while invocations of stereotypes are often used to point out the foibles of characters, in the face of no opposing narrative voices the reader cannot question representations of Sikhs without the aid extra-textual knowledge; secondly that the only positively represented Sikh character who is educated and peaceful is thus presented as a Lahori anomaly. Indeed, the one time a Khalsa Lion does speak, the suggestion that the medieval Islamic presence in India were Moghuls, not Muslims (66) is a descent into nonsense and a deliberate suggestion of mindless dogmatism. But in Jasmine what becomes significant is that this silence and refusal of common sense is intimately tied up with threat. The Khalsa Lions prove to be viciously violent when

they murder Masterji, despite his logical protestations (64). Subsequently, the suggestion that one must look out for Sikh terrorists who can covertly look like you and me (89-90) suggests an odd sense of paranoia. However, the reappearance of Sukkhie in New York most clearly delineates the manner in which Sikhs are used as symbolic actors in the text, since it is here that we the Sikh as representing an ominous, looming force of evil in the text. The protagonist is not only hunted, observed, tracked by Sukkhie but is also afraid that he will kill [Taylor] or Duff to get to her (189). Despite Sukkhie obviously being a terrorist, there is little textual evidence to justify why Sukkhie is so intent on killing Jasmine, save an unrepentant evil force. The Sikh character is constructed as a site of evil that acts as the narratives negative opposition against the forward, progressive protagonist, reducing to Sukkhie as a mere Sikh symbol of evil and violence within the text rather than a character. What must also be noted here is the question of historical accuracy. It is clear that Sikh terrorism and violence did occur in the time-frame of the novel, and thus, the representation of Sikhs in this manner is not inaccurate as such. What it does do though, is negatively construct the Sikh as a site of violence, threat and masculine dominance, with nothing to suggest that any other representations of Sikhs do exist. From a strictly literary standpoint, the ignorant reader is presented with only one textual reality and is given no narrative tools to question it. Thus in Jasmine, A Fine Balance and Cracking India, historical verisimilitude is not the issue it is the manner in which Sikhs are positioned and constructed within meta-historical narratives. This notion of Sikh characters positioned as symbolic actors, subject to history but with no agency of their own, is interesting to examine the Epilogue of A Fine Balance. The novel itself is extremely sensitive to the nuance of representation, as it is among the most sympathetic and urgent representations of the depressed castes in modern India. The

Epilogue of the text points to the massacring of Sikhs after the assassination of Indira Gandhi interestingly, one of the very historical facts often quoted when describing the historical oppression of Sikhs. However, even though we cannot criticise the representation outright and do not want to we can point to the manner in which Sikhs are portrayed as helpless participants in history. That the driver is a happy prisoner (676) illuminates both the cycle of oppression and violence in India, and also his literary position in the novel: a symbolic character whose function is to elucidate a point of the plot. That is not to say one should condemn Mistry; however, it does aid our discussion here in that highlights how position in a literary narrative can often have political ramifications as regards representation. In this case, the Sikhs are represented as a long line of oppressed: Today it is the Sikhs. Last year it was the Muslims, before that, the Harijans (676). The Sikh driver is also presented as being ignorant in comparison to Maneck, who patronises the Sikhs attempts at analysis as poignant understatement (676), as if the Sikh does not have the capacity to comprehend what is going on. Again, it is not an outright criticism of Mistry (though it is not a ringing endorsement either) but a delineation of the literary process by which the unique subject position Sikh can be marginalised within a text. Here, the Sikh is positioned as a character whose literary function is to suggest a cycle of oppression. Denied any agency, the only Sikh character in the text becomes a cardboard cut-out, not only unable to change his circumstances, but also not able to fully understand them. The notion of an un-agencied subject becomes especially important when considered in light of the very physical nature of the descriptions given to Sikhs. Indeed, Jhabvala is quite explicit about this, as in Passion, Mannys tongue becomes personified as strong, pulsing, muscled like an animal alive in its own right (90). Further to this, in the silent, potentially primitivist reading of Mannys advance, beneath his shirt, [Betty] could

feel his chest and his ribs strong as steel focussing clearly on the explicitly physical nature of the Sikh. Later in the story, when Manny again seems to transgress social boundaries with no regard for convention or modesty, the protagonist looks up to see Mannys red, moist mouth, smiling inside his black beard again personifying a part of Mannys body, in this case almost certainly in a sexual manner. In the compartmentalisation and personification of Mannys body, the Sikh character of the text becomes indicative of primal urges and sexuality, dehumanising him. Mannys silent intimidation of Har Gopal done without offering resistance (104) seems to further emphasise this purely functional and primitive narrative aspect of his character. Bakhtawar Singh in Desecration fairs little better. As in Jasmine, the Sikh character exists as primarily violent and sexual, essentially male, where his rise to power stems from killing a dacoit he had himself trapped in a ravine and shot in the head (271). Physicality is again at the forefront, not only in his dark, muscular, naked back (278) but also in the manner in which he treats Sofia as he strikes her playfully but quite hard, with the flat of his hand (279). Bakhtawar Singh seems to revel in the masochistically sensual, the coarse, hot lentils that he forces into Sofias mouth as if he deliberately wanted to violate her decency (278). This sense of masochism and power-play only continues in the disturbing image of the Sikhs sexual coercion and dominance, as he mounts Sofia from behind while she is knelt in prayer. Thus we see a pattern of literary representation beginning to emerge. First is that of silence, the negation of the Sikh narrative voice so that Sikh characters may be then constructed as the opposition in the text. The result of this, as is clear in Jasmine, Desecration and Passion is the construction of Sikh as negative Other, upon which the destructive aspects of the narrative are placed in the aforementioned examples, primarily

that of male brutality, sexuality and primal nature. Secondly, is the inherently physical and thus I argue primal and natural description of Sikhs, emphasising the body above all else. Thirdly, existing in all the texts, but primarily in A Fine Balance, is the Sikh as site of historic and narratalogical function, existing within a narrative solely to function as a plot device, thus denying Sikh characters subjectivity. All four texts also have in common the singularity of their Sikh narrative voices, which is to say that the reader is not exposed to a plurality of Sikh voices, and thus, in the face of no other knowledge, can only take the representations s/he is given. It is Cracking India that is probably the most relevant text to our discussion here, as it combines all of the aforementioned mechanisms to marginalise Sikh characters. More importantly, rather than an analysis of negation, the more abundant use of Sikh characters allows us more leeway in our analysis of the literary processes by which Sikhs are marginalised. The existence of a contextual prejudice against Sikhs is casually evinced in the text in the traditional form of jokes and stereotypes. The Parsees fear God help us if [they are] stuck with the Sikhs! (Sidhwa 46) while childrens jokes that Sikhs become mentally deficient at noon (103) are shown in the pre-Partition tension. Important for my reading of the novel, though Lenny notes that there were jokes for all groups, only the joke about Sikhs is actually written in the text. In this novel, the physicality of Sikhs becomes intimately bound-up with the physical/sexual threat that they pose, as the value-laden nature of the descriptions are explicit. At the Baisakhi mela, we are shown fierce-looking Sikhs wielding long swords and staves extolling the virtues of ancient Sikh warriors (114). More important though, are the physical descriptions of the mobs, where Sikh warriors are sensually described as tall men with streaming hair and thick biceps and thighs, waving full-size swords and sten guns,

roaring (211). The descriptions are not clearly not neutral as Sikhs are depicted as among them like hairy vengeful demons (213), their long hair and beards rampant, large fevered eyes glowing in fanatic faces (144) with their carelessly knotted hair snaking down their backs (215, my emphasis) . It would not belabour the point to examine other adjectives and phrases used to describe Sikhs: like a swarm of locusts (209); engaged in savage banging and kicking of doors (217); perpetrating a threatening gesture (219); murderous Sikh mobs (219); even in Lennys encounter with a small Sikh boy we are reminded The Sikhs are fearless. The Sikhs are warriors (104). Thus a clear pattern emerges of the demonisation of Sikh characters as violent and primal. What is significant about the physical descriptions of Sikhs is apparent when considered in light of the atrocious violence committed by Sikhs in the text. The first Sikh character we see, Mr. Singh, though upper-class and educated, is described as inherently coarse, one who acts more like a coarse Jat [sic] in a village (69). Our introduction to his character is that of an irrational and potentially violent confrontation with General Rogers. The representation of Sikhs as violent continues where the Sikh procession of warriors, displaying a naked child twitching on a spear stuck between her soldiers (144) is representationally offset only mildly by a mention of Muslim goondas (145). The Sikh violence takes on an irrational, inhuman form as the Sikh mobs decapitate Dost Mohammed (213), rape the Mullahs daughter in direct transgression of all social law (211), and in the vicious statement to a Muslim woman stop whimpering or Ill bugger you again (214). The indescribably horrific nature of the violence occurs in direct contradiction of all common sense, despite Dost Mohammeds reasonable requests and the womens cries for mercy: For Gods sake, dont torture me! (211). The Sikhs in the novel arent merely described as being evil, they are Evil. Indeed, the main mention of Sikhs in the novel is in the section Rannas

story, the most violent section of the novel. Most importantly to this analysis, the violence of Partition in this novel is committed primarily by Sikhs, representing Sikhs as the major perpetrators of violence, mayhem and brutality. As with A Fine Balance and Jasmine, what is central is not a will to neglect historical accuracy, but the position and manner in which Sikhs are injected into meta-historical narratives and it is this that is most relevant to the deconstruction of this text as marginalising Sikhs. That there were atrocities committed by Sikhs during Partition is historically welldocumented. However, that the sectarian violence was perpetrated by all sides is also as historically clear. Thus, what become crucial to the question of marginalised Sikh representation are two things: first, the subjectivity of Rannas perspective, for it is through his eyes we see the immense Partition violence acted out by Sikhs ; and second, the gender of the Sikh perpetrators in the polemically feminist narrative of Sidhwas text. Ranna is given subjectivity without being a primary character, which in itself can be used to comparatively critique the lack of voice for Sikh characters. More importantly however, Rannas perspective is constructed in particular ways, as an objective outsider who watches with the boundless acceptance and curiosity of a child (218) as a woman is brutally burned alive. Rannas story can then be seen to function as a narrative device, a differing perspective to give the reader the untainted curiosity of child in relating the violence of Partition. We can assume, therefore, that Rannas story is to be read as an unmediated relation of events. It is here that the argument for the narrative marginalisation of Sikhs in the text becomes clear. For in portraying Sikhs as the perpetrators of violence under a rubric of objective description Sikhs in the text are demonised as violent, brutal, inhuman. Dissenting voices are silenced by the narrative positioning of the Sikh characters where the almost

exclusive representation of violence in the text as Sikh violence occurs in a meta-historical text that, as shown, depicts Sikhs as primal creatures of violence. Unlike the other texts studied here, Sikhs are given more than one narrative voice in Sher Singh and Jagjeet Singh . However, if we continue our reading of Sikhs as agents of histories but not individual subjectivities, a pattern again emerges. Sher Singh is presented to us as a thin, stuttering Sikh (97) and Jagjeet Singh is a man bound by the fact that [The Akalis] were in control of the village (207). We again see the presence of the anomaly and agent of history. Both characters are cannot overcome their narrative positions and thus their dissenting voices are negated, merely being anomalous or powerless to effect change. The second point - which can also be easily adapted to Jasmine and Desecration and Passion concerns considering the complete lack of Sikh women in Cracking India in light of the novels feminist polemic. The brutal violence by men against women is only explicitly described in relation to Sikhs (Elsewhere there is only allusion). Though Sidhwa is to be commended for her delineation of woman as a site of power exchange in Partition violence, one must ask why no Sikh women are represented. In presenting Sikhs as only male within a text that explicitly critiques male violence and domination, one is left to read Sikhs as symbolic and representative of male violence. Sikhs are thus constructed as inherently patriarchal and essentially and quintessentially male, which, in the light of the fiercely feminist tone of the text, only serves to further demonise Sikhs and more importantly, deny them subjectivity. The crux of the argument therefore lies here. In Cracking India and in all the preceding texts, Sikhs are constructed as narrative objects and not subjects, sites of violence, primitivism, male dominance and evil, but never full subjectivities, and thus, never fully human. The representation of Sikhs in the texts studied here begs certain hard questions to be

asked. Why are the Sikhs constructed as the primary perpetrators of violence? Why are Sikhs and the threat of (male) violence linked here? Why is no Sikh given a voice or if is, presented as a helpless anomaly? In all the aforementioned texts, Sikhs are constructed not as subjectivities, but as functional agents of either history or narrative. In concluding, it is useful to invoke Derridas suggestion that all logocentric epistemologies must have an opposition of the logos against which the centre is defined. In this vein, and quite pertinent to this discussion, Kobena Mercer in Welcome to the Jungle suggests that the rearticulation of Black as a positive, active (as opposed to passive) subject position, first entailed understanding the ideological and epistemological process of subjugation: the existence of an absolute division between the West and the rest in which the identity of the black subject was negated as Other, ugly and ultimately unhuman (271) whereby the hegemonic, white, male, bourgeois subject whose sovereign, centred identity depended on the othering of subordinate class, racial, gendered and sexual subjects who were thereby excluded from the category human (271). Thus I would argue that in a similar light, in the texts examined, Sikhs are constructed as a site of emptiness, the void against which the centre of the present subject must have as its Other in order to define itself. Into this lack of subjecthood, the needs of the narrative are negatively projected, be that a representation of violence, otherness, evil or masculinity. The emptiness is representational violence, or a form of what Spivak calls epistemic violence, through which, inverted characteristics and emotions of the Centre can be placed, in order to subjugate and negate the subjectivity of the Other. In doing so, Sikhs are representationally marginalised in texts, reduced to irrational bodies and historical actors. Inescapably, questions of how subalterns are represented, especially within in the domination of the postcolonial in the institution, Spivak must somehow factor into the

discussion. In her article Can the Subaltern Speak?, fundamentally Spivak suggests that self-representation and Subjectivity are intricately linked that the vertreten and darstellen forms of representation are both involved in a removal of subjecthood. We cannot argue exactly the same thing here, that the very representation of Sikhs itself denies subjectivity. We can, however, argue by degrees, in that the denial of narrative voice and positioning of Sikhs within narratives as devoid of agency or humanity does indeed remove, erase and negate Sikh subjectivity, primarily due to a lack of narrative voice and subjective representation. Thus, the texts studied here subjugate the representation of Sikhs through a denial of narrative voice and a process of othering by which the negative character traits being critiqued within the given narratives are cast upon Sikhs, demonising and dehumanising them. Jabhvala silences her Sikh characters, endowing them with explicitly physical, sinister and masculine traits, emptying out their subjectivity to function as male threat. Similarly, the brief use of Sikhs in Jasmine portrays Sikhs as inherently violent and as indicative of patriarchal violence. Mistrys text is able to illuminate the politics of narrative position, through which the Sikh character of his book is reduced to a mere symbolic function. Through this, we can see the manner in which Sidhwa position Sikhs in her narrative either as agents of history or personifications of the violence of Partition in her male Sikh characters. The question of patterns must then be raised, for we clearly see them develop here. While it is clear that Sikh subjectivity is negated, it must also be noted that negation occurs through the invocation of specific traits, specifically: violence; dominant patriarchy; lack of historical or personal agency; and fundamentally, a lack of rounded, complex subjectivity.

Disturbingly, the representations in the texts examined in this paper seem to reflect widely held prejudices and beliefs of the Sardar as mindless and prone to brutality. What becomes critical here are two related points. First is that of voice: more positive Sikh voices, in all the irony and diversity such a term entails, must step to the forefront to challenge these representations. Second is that these voices must be both textual/authorial and critical that is to say, the task of deconstructing negative representations of Sikhs falls to those with either the personal investment or academically curiosity and rigour to both write and critique such narratives and that they are still waiting to be done. We also cannot entirely escape context, be it literary/academic or social/historical. As post September 11th hate attacks on Sikhs demonstrate (see www.sikhcoalition.org), mainstream western knowledge of Sikhs and their practice is incomplete and rife with stereotypes and thus, Western reception of such representations of Sikhs as violent, mindless and ultimately inhuman, must be challenged. Works Cited Bannerji, Himani. Inventing Subjects: Studies in Hegemony, Patriarchy and Colinialism. Tulika Books, 2001. Jabhvala, Ruth Prawer. Out of India. Counterpoint, 2000. Mahmood, Cynthia Keppley. Faith and Nation: Dialogues with Sikh Militants. University of Pennsylvania Press, 1996. McLeod, W.H. Who is a Sikh?. Clarendon Press, 1989. Mercer, Kobena. Welcome to the Jungle: New Positions in Black Cultural Studies. Routledge, 1994. Mistry, Rohinton. A Fine Balance. McLelland & Stewart, 1995. Mukherjee, Bharati. Jasmine. Grove Press, 1989. Said, Edward. The Text, the World, the Critic in Textual Strategies in Post-Structuralist Criticism. Cornell University Press, 1979.

Said, Edward. Representing the Colonised: Anthropologys Interlocutors in Critical Inquiry. University of Chicago, Winter 1989. Sidhwa, Bapsi. Cracking India. Milkweed Editions, 1991. Spivak, Gayatri Chakravorty. Can the Subaltern Speak? in Marxism and the Interpretation of Culture. University of Illinois Press, 1998. http://www.bbc.co.uk/religion/religions/sikhism/sikh_history4.shtml

Turbaned Demons: The Subjugation of Sikh Subjectivity in selected Anglo-Indian Fiction.

Navneet Alang Student # 202023018 Professor Birbalsingh South Asian Literature.