Introduction
In April 1699, Guru Gobind Singh (r. 1675–1708), the last ‘living’ Sikh Guru,Footnote 1 invited Sikh congregations from across the subcontinent to celebrate the Baisakhi (Punjabi spring) festival. Many Sikhs happily accepted the offer and travelled to the Guru's temple town of Anandpur in the Punjabi hills. As the festivities reached their zenith, the congregation was finally addressed by the Guru. But the Guru was seething with intense rage: he exuded the same fearsome presence he displayed on the battlefield. He looked at the crowd of bemused congregants and he demanded the head of a Sikh. A shiver ran through the audience as they saw the Guru's gleaming sabre. They wondered: ‘Has the Guru gone insane?’ But the Guru was unperturbed by their confusion and he repeated his demand for a head. Then out of the throngs stood up Daya Ram, a Khatri from Lahore: he was willing to offer his head. Daya Ram was led by the Guru into his royal tent and then a thud was heard. The crowd were alarmed and when the Guru reappeared alone, with blood dripping off the edge of his sabre, alarm turned into terror. For all they knew, Daya Ram had been decapitated: his faith nothing more than folly. Still, there was hope that the madness was now over. But the Guru had only started his bloodbath, and he called out for another head. The rumblings of the crowd did not deter the Guru from his aim to acquire more heads. Then another Sikh, Dharam Das, a Jat from Hastinapur, stood up. Dharam Das was led into the tent by the Guru and another thud was heard. The Guru returned with a bloodier sabre and an unrelenting lust for murder as he called for another head. This time Himmat, a Brahmin cook (Jhivar) from Jagannath, arose, and after him Sahib Chand, a dhobi (Chhimba) from Dwarka, and, lastly, Muhakam Chand, a barber (Nai) from Bidar. As with those before them, they entered the tent never to return.
As the fifth thud was heard the audience was seized by fear: some ran away and others stood petrified. Then Guru Gobind Singh returned to address the crowd—along with all five men, dressed in martial attire. The Guru declared they were his ‘five beloved ones’ (panj piare). All had been willing to sacrifice their lives for the Guru even when his command had appeared to be incomprehensible, and they were to be the first members of his new order, the Khalsa Panth (way of the pure). He then proceeded to confirm their membership by performing a public initiation ceremony known as the khande di pahul (double-edged sword initiation). The Guru prepared a sacred drink comprising water that had been stirred with a double-edged sword and had been blessed by the recitation of specific scriptures. To the water, his second wife, Mata Jito, added sugar candies, thereby creating nectar (amrit). Each of the five beloved ones then drank the amrit and confirmed their allegiance to the Khalsa Panth. Their caste surnames were replaced by the surname Singh (lion). The Guru gave his Khalsa Sikhs a distinctive ‘code of conduct’ (rahit maryada), which detailed the correct etiquette for a Singh.Footnote 2 Important rules of comportment included having unshorn hair and beards, carrying arms, and avoiding certain reprobate groups such as ‘unorthodox’ Sikhs. The Guru then encouraged all his Sikhs to follow his beloved ones and join the Khalsa. He too showed his humility by receiving his initiation rites from the hands of his five beloved ones.
The Khalsa had been formed and, give or take a few details, the above narrative has been related by Sikhs to Sikhs since the early eighteenth century.Footnote 3 While historical research has queried many details of the narrative, for example, the date of the event, the nature of the ceremony, and details of the code of conduct, there is no doubt that the Khalsa was formed by the turn of the eighteenth century.
The making of the Khalsa marked a momentous event in the history of Sikhism and early modern India. The Khalsa Sikhs were not simply a new addition to Mughal India's rich religious landscape, they had overt political ambitions that ultimately challenged Mughal authority in the Punjab region. Khalsa Sikhism was embedded with distinct notions of sovereignty and soldierliness, which can be clearly detected in the Khalsa initiation ceremony. The process of becoming Khalsa was not simply a process of displaying faith in the Guru by adopting a particular dress code and wearing certain talismans, it was a complex process whereby the novice became a Kshatriya devoted to a monarch (i.e. Guru Gobind Singh). The nature of the ceremony has changed over the centuries and contemporary Sikh groups differ on the manner and meaning of becoming Khalsa. But early modern Sikhs and, more generally, non-Sikh observers of the era would have read the ceremony in the context of early modern Indic notions of sovereignty and courtesy. In particular, they would have been struck by the symbols that adorned the body of the Khalsa male following his metamorphosis after drinking the amrit. The Khalsa man was forbidden to cut his hair or beard, he was sworn to keep weaponry (usually a sword) on his person at all times, and he adopted the name Singh. For early modern Sikh savants, the courtesy referred to was that of the ancient Kshatriya tradition derived from the goddess Durga and embodied by Guru Gobind Singh.Footnote 4 A flavour of such an opinion on the Khalsa's origins can be discerned in the opening passages of the eighteenth century ‘code of conduct’ (rahitnama) text, allegedly composed by Daya Singh, the first of the five beloved ones. The Daya Singh Rahitnama opens with a discussion between Daya Singh and Guru Gobind Singh. The latter replies to Daya Singh's question about the ideal conduct of a Khalsa Sikh and starts by discussing the amrit ceremony:
When the goddess (devi) became manifest and the five beloved ones (panj pyare) stood attentively.
Then all the gods (devta) arrived.
The goddess (Shakti) recited Guru Nanak's formula (mantra) ‘One Om True Name’ (ek omkar satinam).
Mohan then recited the spell (jantar) ‘wonderful lord’ (Waheguru).
Varuna offered the charm (tantra) of undying water (jal amar) to strengthen the mind.
Indra offered sweets to keep the mind pleasant (mithi).
Yamaraj offered the steel bowl for making the amrit.
Death (kal, i.e. God) gave the steel sword (sarbloh ki kard) for war (yudh).
The goddess (Chandi) gave the unshorn hair (kes).
Hanuman gave the warrior breeches (kachh).Footnote 5
The amrit ceremony was invested with a doctrine of power similar to other Indic traditions.Footnote 6 Upon his initiation the gods bestowed directly upon the Khalsa male the royal gifts of a sword, unshorn hair, and military dress. Thus the process of an individual taking amrit resulted in ‘the transference of sovereignty to his own person’, similar to the way in which a Hindu king in medieval India would have consecrated his power by showing he had been granted divine favour.Footnote 7 In addition, certain early modern Sikh savants thought of the process of becoming a Khalsa member as being gifted a jama (royal robe) by Guru Gobind Singh.Footnote 8 The gift of jama is a reference to the ritual royal robe-giving (khil’at) associated with the Mughal court in particular and the medieval Indo-Islamic courts more generally.Footnote 9 So when a Sikh was initiated into the Khalsa fraternity, he pledged to serve God and the Guru before any other authority and agreed to abide by an ethical code that emphasized military service. This inclusive ethos of fellowship provided the Khalsa Sikhs with the internal unity to challenge first the Mughal and then the Indo-Afghan empires for control of the Punjab region in the eighteenth century.Footnote 10 By the late eighteenth century, Khalsa Sikh kingdoms dominated the Punjab region, and in the early nineteenth century the Sikh kingdom under Ranjit Singh (r. 1799–1839) would become the British East India Company's most competitive rival for control of North India.Footnote 11
Retrospective narratives of the Khalsa's creation tend to see the moment as glorious.Footnote 12 The Khalsa was created in the context of Aurangzeb's ‘intolerant’ milieu which prompted this martial turn of events. The traditional historiography states that Sikhs and other innocents were vulnerable to Aurangzeb's aggressive Islamist agenda and they had no other option but to resort to warfare. This narrative is not entirely without truth: in late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries Sikh sources, Aurangzeb is despised as a tyrant who justified his misrule by claiming he was a pious Muslim.Footnote 13 This opinion was lucidly expressed in the Zafarnama (letter of victory) composed by Guru Gobind Singh and addressed to Aurangzeb, but it is a matter of contention if Aurangzeb actually received this letter.Footnote 14 But the problem with saying that Aurangzeb was to blame for Sikh militancy in this era suggests the Khalsa only wanted to restructure the Mughal empire, when in reality they wanted to replace the Mughals, regardless of who was sitting on the throne in Delhi. The Khalsa Sikhs argued that the Mughal system, and in particular Mughal political culture, was corrupt and needed to be destroyed. Hence, for early eighteenth century Sikhs, the Khalsa's creation was not simply a straightforward question of faith, it was also a question of the validity of Mughal rule. These Sikh debates were similar, though not identical, to other contemporary movements such as the Marathas, Rajputs, and Dadupanth which also experienced growing tensions with Mughal authority.Footnote 15
Retrospective accounts often ignore this nuance—this is because Sikh sources from the early nineteenth century no longer had to deal with the question of the validity of Mughal rule. For nineteenth century Sikh savants, Sikh rule had an inevitable teleology to it. In the eyes of authors such as Rattan Singh Bhangu or Santokh Singh, Mughal rule became illegitimate because of Aurangzeb's tyranny and had to be replaced; the value of Mughal authority was not considered a contentious point.Footnote 16 From the 1720s onwards, when Mughal power in Punjab was disintegrating, the Khalsa was fully committed to warfare against any rivals. Mughal rule in Punjab suffered particularly due to the rise of Ahmad Shah Abdali (d. 1772) and his Indo-Afghan empire.
An early eighteenth century Sikh account of Guru Gobind Singh's life and times illuminates the public debate sparked by the Khalsa's formation for Sikhs living in Delhi. The account, Sri Gur Sobha (The Glory of the Guru), was composed by Sainapati in 1711.Footnote 17 It is the earliest account of the Khalsa's creation, but the dating of the text and the identity of the author has proved contentious.Footnote 18 In the Sri Gur Sobha Sainapati identifies himself as a Khalsa Sikh and his Braj poetic style is similar to Guru Gobind Singh's works in the Dasam Granth (Book of the Tenth King).Footnote 19 In the context of pre-colonial Sikh literature, the Sri Gur Sobha represents one of the earliest attempts by a writer to explore Guru Gobind Singh's life and mission. The Sri Gur Sobha is often viewed as a part of the gurbilas (play of the Guru) genre that became popular among Sikh writers in the eighteenth century. Unlike the earlier janamsakhi (life anecdotes) genre that focused on Guru Nanak's life and teachings, the gurbilas poets were concerned with expressing the majesty of Guru Gobind Singh's reign and explaining why the Guru had been born, in the context of the Kali Yuga (Dark Age). In the early eighteenth century Sainapati was not unique in his desire to write a biography of Guru Gobind Singh; other works included Bachitar Natak, Das Gur Katha, Jangnama Sri Guru Gobind Singh, and Parchhi Patshahi Dasvin Ki. The Sri Gur Sobha thus belonged to a wider trend in early modern Sikh literature to embed Guru Gobind Singh within an Indic narrative of dharma.
In this paper I will analyse the public debate on the Khalsa's creation which engrossed Delhi's Sikhs. I will then investigate how these various viewpoints reflected wider social and cultural processes in Mughal India.
The Khalsa's mandate of heaven
When Guru Gobind Singh created the Khalsa he did not trigger a public debate on the role of temporality in Sikhism. Ever since the early seventeenth century Guru Gobind Singh's lineage had operated imperial-style courts.Footnote 20 From the time of Guru Hargobind (r. 1606–1643) the Sikh Gurus had become gentrified and abided by the norms of a patrimonial feudal lord.Footnote 21 The Sikh community would have been accustomed to the image of the Guru as a warrior king. The Gurus already adhered to the etiquette of sporting unshorn hair and beards, carrying arms, practising martial arts, and not associating with disreputable characters. They not only subscribed to this code, but maintained a standing army as well. They also had a frosty relationship with the Mughal state: most prominently due to the executions of Guru Arjan (r. 1581–1606) on the orders of Jahangir (r. 1606–1627) and Guru Tegh Bahadur (r. 1663–1675) on the orders of Aurangzeb (r. 1657–1707).Footnote 22 Neither execution, however, directly resulted in the Sikh Gurus revolting against Mughal rule.
Guru Gobind Singh inherited his predecessors’ substantial financial base. In an early eighteenth century Persian history, Muhammad Qasim stated that Guru Gobind Singh had equivalent wealth to a mansabdar (Mughal officer) of 5,000 zat (rank).Footnote 23 Moreover, he possessed a considerable army and was an individual with enormous political power in the Bilaspur region. His political power eventually began to challenge the local hill kings; hostilities reached such a point that several local battles occurred between the Guru's forces and the local kings.Footnote 24 These battles attracted the attention of the Mughal officers in Lahore Province when the local kings asked for assistance in quelling Guru Gobind Singh's supposed threat to their power. There is no evidence to suggest that Guru Gobind Singh harboured any ambitions to conquer his local rivals or to establish his authority in the region. But undoubtedly the Guru's court was growing in stature and to the local kings a threat was implied by his growing eminence.
The clash between Guru Gobind Singh and the hill kings was an example of a small-scale zamindari conflict in the context of late seventeenth century Mughal India.Footnote 25 But the conflict did escalate to the extent that Guru Gobind Singh and his Sikhs felt they were being unjustly treated by the Mughal state. It appears Guru Gobind Singh was willing to settle this local dispute with the hill kings and the Mughals through arbitration. However, his opponents felt the Guru's threat was minimal and military action would eventually force him to concede to their terms. By underestimating Guru Gobind Singh's military capabilities, this local dispute was transformed into a conflict that spread across the Punjab region.
It was in this atmosphere of conflict with the hill kings and Mughals that Guru Gobind Singh created the Khalsa in April 1699. After the creation of the Khalsa the conflict with the Mughals grew in intensity as Guru Gobind Singh's armed forces became more resistant, ambitious, and vehemently anti-Mughal.
The formation of the Khalsa was not unique in the sense that it was a ‘militant’ organization added on to a ‘peaceful’ religious community—the Sikh Gurus already had warriors under their command. The Khalsa was unique for two reasons: first, Khalsa Sikhism encouraged all Sikhs to join the fraternity regardless of their background, and second, Khalsa Sikhism had a coherent vision of sovereignty and soldierliness. By contrast, the pre-Khalsa Sikh army was recruited from the military labour market and its main duty was to protect the Guru. Now all Sikhs were encouraged to become warriors engaged in a struggle against Mughal tyranny.
In the Sri Gur Sobha Sainapati contextualized the role of the Khalsa as the warriors of righteousness (dharma) created by Guru Gobind Singh in order to establish justice in a society that was becoming increasingly unjust. In Sainapati's narrative the history of humanity had been a tale of good and evil wherein men with power such as kings regularly violated the universal laws of justice and consequently God sent divine agents (avatars) to destroy the unrighteous and re-establish justice. Sainapati was without any doubt that Guru Gobind Singh was an avatar sent by God to restore righteousness. His opinion was not unusual since this image of the Guru as an avatar was widely accepted in pre-colonial Sikh literature.Footnote 26 Sainapati related how God had called Guru Gobind Singh into his court prior to the Guru's birth and specifically assigned him the task of forming a panth (spiritual way) dedicated to spreading goodness (sumatt).Footnote 27 In a later verse Sainapati says: ‘The Guru is Gobind [i.e. God] and Gobind is the Guru: the Lord of Action; The Guru has come to this world to save it and the entire world knows this truth.’Footnote 28 The Khalsa thus had a mandate from heaven to rule and for Sainapati their triumph was only a matter of time.
The Khalsa's unique status as an army of righteousness destined for sovereignty was not simply based on their military skill but also on their ethical code. For Sainapati the Khalsa Singh was unlike any other contemporary warrior because he was virtuous and accordingly engaged only in just war. When discussing the creation of the Khalsa, Sainapati tells us that the Guru told his Sikhs: ‘Cleanse the senses (man), speak (bach) truthfully and act (karm) justly, then the goddess (Bhavani) will protect you and you will reside in an ocean of happiness (sukh sar).’Footnote 29 The Khalsa Singh would receive the protection of the Guru and goddess if he acted ethically and morally, but if he faltered in his conduct, this divine protection would cease and he would have to seek repentance (tanakhah) from his brothers-in-arms. Indeed, in the early modern era Khalsa Sikhs spent much of their time debating their conduct and in their normative literature they often referred to their adab (Persianate civility) and their adhikara (Hindu social rights).Footnote 30 Sainapati was one of the first authors of the period who clarified the ideal conduct of a Khalsa Singh. In his text he set out that a Khalsa should keep his hair and beard unshorn; never associate with people who shave their hair (sir-gum); avoid five reprobate groups, although Sainapati does not make it clear who comprises these groups; no longer make offerings to the masands (Sikh officers tasked with collecting donations from Sikh communities); not consume tobacco (hukka); and not perform the tonsure rites (bhaddar) after death.Footnote 31 In addition, Sainapati explains that a Khalsa Singh must continue to practise spiritual activities such as nam jap (meditation).Footnote 32
Sainapati gives particular emphasis to two injunctions, namely the hukka and bhaddar. He makes an ardent plea for Sikhs to give up these customs:
The stress placed on these customs is intriguing. Sainapati was well aware that certain sections of the Sikh community were strongly attached to such customs and they would abandon them reluctantly, if at all. This is all the more fascinating because Sainapati did not make the same effort to convince his audience of the other injunctions which suggests that those were uncontroversial. Sainapati continues his narrative of events with an explanation of exactly why the hukka and bhaddar were so controversial in Sikh society.
Sainapati then goes on to discuss how Delhi's Sikh community began a public discourse on the formation of the Khalsa and its implications for their everyday lives.
Sikh public philosophy: early eighteenth century Delhi (circa 1700)
After the dramatic events of that historic Baisakhi day, Sikh missionaries and congregants returned home with news that the Khalsa had been formed. Sikhs who had not witnessed the events with their own eyes would have been eager to hear first-hand accounts. The news that Khalsa membership required the adoption of a new civil code, different from earlier Sikh practices, must have spread quickly among Sikhs across India. Sainapati describes how Delhi's Sikh congregation reacted to the innovation with mixed feelings:
The Khalsa's creation seems to have divided Delhi's Sikh community along caste lines. It appears that the congregation gathered in a Sikh temple to collectively discuss the issues they had with Khalsa Sikhism. A section of the congregation appears to have readily accepted the Khalsa's code of conduct and was initiated into the fraternity there and then. But Sainapati specifically says that the Khatri and Brahman Sikhs of the congregation were troubled by this new development because of the implications Khalsa membership would have for their ancestral traditions (kula karm). They complained among themselves that they would suffer social and religious dishonour if they were not able to perform the tonsure rites. While they were willing to keep their hair uncut at all other times, at times of death they felt it was necessary to cut their hair. Moreover, Sainapati informs us that many Sikhs abandoned their families to join the Khalsa; possibly this might indicate that certain Khatri and Brahman Sikhs acted against the wishes of their relatives and were initiated. However, according to Sainapati's narrative, this first meeting led to a division into ‘pro-Khalsa’ and ‘anti-Khalsa’ factions.
The conflict between pro-Khalsa and anti-Khalsa factions grew more intense in following meetings as the rival Sikhs began fiercely debating with each other, even physically assaulting one another. For instance, Sainapati describes how a Khatri man was forcefully ejected from a temple by Khalsa Sikhs because of his anti-Khalsa sentiments:
The Khatri man was clearly perplexed by the strong emotions the Khalsa had evoked in his fellow Sikhs. Sainapati further informs us that the Khatri Sikh continued to talk with a Khalsa Sikh he had met, afterwards going to the Khalsa Sikh's home for a meal.Footnote 36 By the end of the meal the Khatri Sikh was fully convinced by the Khalsa Sikh's reasoning and became a Khalsa believer. This incident highlights how the Khatri community was not inherently anti-Khalsa and that many Khatris were open to joining the Khalsa. It also shows how not all Khalsa Sikhs were opposed to conversing and dining with non-Khalsa Sikhs.
Sainapati continues his narrative by discussing how the abovementioned Khalsa Sikh was chastised by his Khalsa brothers for breaking his code of conduct by socializing with the ‘shaven head’ (sir-gum) Khatri man:
Clearly a significant section of the Khalsa Sikhs had a fundamentalist belief in maintaining their code of conduct—but perhaps this incident simply reflects the zeal of recent converts.
The conflict between the two factions continued to concern Delhi's Sikhs and another meeting was convened at a Sikh temple:
The two factions seem to have reached a stalemate as both sides were unable to successfully resolve their dispute. The conflict was growing in hatred.
The party of Sikhs which had stormed out of the last meeting then decided that the factional dispute had to be resolved. They decided to hold another meeting at Darapur market; the choice of a bazaar instead of a temple is interesting and possibly reflects the mercantile interests of the anti-Khalsa faction. Indeed, the anti-Khalsa party was led by two wealthy Khatris who proposed a truce of sorts:
The meeting concluded with a consensus that the two factions would let their differences stand until further evidence about the finer points of the Khalsa's ethical code was obtained from the Guru's court. There seems to have been a general desire that local relationships should not be disrupted. But it is important to note that the two wealthy Khatri leaders had raised objections in particular to the injunctions against hukka and bhaddar.
The dispute continued to preoccupy Sikh minds. Sainapati informs us that the anti-Khalsa party held a private meeting:
For at least some sections of the anti-Khalsa faction the Khalsa's ethical code was nonsense and they had no intention of abiding by it, regardless of the fact that it was Guru Gobind Singh who had prohibited bhaddar and hukka. Sainapati described these Sikhs as empiricists (khulasa).Footnote 41
The early debates among Delhi's Sikhs appear to have been largely confined to theoretical debates regarding conduct. But as the rival factions hardened into parties that either accepted or rejected the Khalsa, the debates began to impinge upon the everyday lives of Delhi's Sikhs. At the meeting at Darapur market, the community had been eager to avoid the disintegration of local relationships, but it appears these local ties immediately came under pressure as the divide between Khalsa and non-Khalsa became distinct. Sainapati describes how the death of a Khatri Sikh sparked a backlash by certain sections of the Khatri community against Delhi's Khalsa Sikhs:
The worst fears of the Khatri panchayat were confirmed when their fellow Khatris decided to abandon the tonsure rites. At the outset of this public debate certain Khatri leaders had feared exactly this outcome: that the Khatris would abandon their caste rituals and consequently in the long run the Khatris would become extinct. The Khatri leadership in Delhi decided to avoid any future incidents of Khatris abandoning bhaddar by eliminating Delhi's Khalsa Sikhs or at least impoverishing them to such an extent that no Sikh would remain Khalsa nor would any Khatri see the Khalsa as honourable. The financial assault planned by the Khatri leadership reveals the dominant economic position held by the Khatri elite in Delhi. It is likely that many Khalsa Sikhs had business relationships with Khatri Sikhs and were dependent upon these relationships to support their livelihoods. The Khatri elite appear to have had the capacity to disrupt their business relationships with Khalsa Sikhs, in the short term at least, in order to assert their supremacy.
Sainapati informs us that, true to their word, the Khatri leadership ‘closed all the markets’ (sab bajar band kari dina) to Khalsa Sikhs.Footnote 43 In response the Khalsa Sikhs petitioned the local commander (hakam) to reopen them.Footnote 44 The Khatri panchayat then attempted to dissuade the hakam from helping the Khalsa Sikhs by telling him that Khalsa Sikhism was inherently anti-Mughal and that it was not in his best interests to encourage the Khalsa:
The Khatri leadership highlighted how Khalsa Sikhism was unique and unlike early Sikhism: the Khalsa Sikhs were devoted to their Guru and did not submit to the Mughal emperor; they even audaciously called themselves Khalsa, a possible play on the Mughal administrative term khalisa (crown lands). They argued that while the Khalsa was not subordinate to Mughal authority, but the Khatri elite certainly were.
The Khatri panchayat, uncertain about the effectiveness of their intervention, then decided to bribe the hakam by giving him his ‘expenses’ (kharch).Footnote 46 The local authorities accepted the bribe and began verbal and physical assaults on the Khalsa Sikhs.Footnote 47 Moreover, the Khatri leadership hired factionalists (dharie), highwaymen (bat parie), and local people (nagar ko apar log) to inflict further injuries on the Khalsa Sikhs.Footnote 48
Eventually, however, the local authorities changed their policy and reversed the Khatri trading ban. For Sainapati the explanation for this period of persecution coming to an end was due to the grace of God.Footnote 49 It is unclear why exactly the local authorities felt the ban was no longer enforceable, but it is most likely that it was unsustainable and had a negative effect on local commerce and tax collection.
The Sikh community in Delhi seems to have settled down following the cessation of the trading ban. Sainapati informs us that Delhi's Sikhs began a process of reconciliation; he states that the Sikhs gathered once again in the congregation (sangat) and ‘many came to have their sins (gunah) pardoned (bakhshaee)’.Footnote 50 The reunified Sikh community then even proceeded to Anandpur to do Guru Gobind Singh's darshan (homage).Footnote 51 But it is interesting to note that Sainapati only says that ‘many’ (ketan) sought forgiveness for their gunah (sins), meaning that a faction of the anti-Khalsa party no longer wanted to be part of Delhi's Sikh community. As Sainapati's account illustrated, the division between the two parties was not always clear-cut and friendships between Khalsa and non-Khalsa Sikhs did exist. And it appears that those anti-Khalsa Sikhs who sought forgiveness were those who had ties of affection both with the Khalsa Sikhs and, more generally, the Sikh religion—Sainapati emphasizes the het (love) between the Sikhs and their desire to do Guru Gobind Singh's darshan.Footnote 52
That said, there was still a social boundary between the two sides. The non-Khalsa Sikhs comprised mainly the Khatris and a smaller Brahman contingent, which, as we have seen, had a prominent and powerful influence over Delhi's commerce. By contrast, the Khalsa Sikhs, while not specifically identified with caste titles, were composed of those who were detrimentally affected by the Khatri trading ban which indicates that they probably came from a range of caste groups that were professionally connected to Delhi's commercial markets.
An important question is: why was there such sharp social division in the early eighteenth century Delhi Sikh community? In order to answer this we must understand the social composition of this community and explore the extent to which the Mughal system impinged upon the lives and aspirations of Delhi's Sikhs.
Sikh society in early eighteenth century Delhi
Sainapati identifies two major caste groups in Delhi's Sikh community—the Khatris (who also had a small Brahmin contingent within their ranks) and the ‘others’. It appears that prior to the creation of the Khalsa all these caste groups were part of a Sikh commercial society in Delhi.Footnote 53 The various caste groups had an established routine of gathering together in a Sikh temple, undoubtedly praying together, and consequently forming professional networks. Even at the height of the dispute between the rival parties, it was generally desired that the long-established socio-economic relationships between the two should be maintained. Sikhism, it seems, helped both to create a moral community and to facilitate business transactions in Delhi. The role of Sikhism in creating social and/or professional assemblies (sabha) does not appear to be unusual—in late eighteenth century Benares, Khatris and Punjabi Saraswat Brahmins had similar assemblies to deliberate on matters of morality and business, and both parties were partly bound together by a deep attachment to Sikhism.Footnote 54 It is possible that this Benares sabha emerged in the seventeenth century and that other Sikh sabhas existed in this period in towns and cities where Sikhs resided in large numbers such as Patna and Lahore.
The reason why it was specifically in Delhi that this debate erupted along caste lines, rather than in, for instance, Benares or Patna, is because Delhi's Sikh community probably had greater caste diversity and disparities in comparison to other urban Sikh sangats (congregations). While no detailed study has been conducted on the early caste composition of the Sikh community from the early sixteenth century onwards, it is generally agreed that the early Sikh community in Punjab was largely composed of Khatris and Jats, with a notable artisanal contingent.Footnote 55 It is reasonable to suggest that Sikhism spread to major cities outside of Punjab along the Khatri trading networks because the key cities in which Sikh sangats emerged during the time of the Sikh Gurus were Delhi, Mirzapur, Benares, and Patna.Footnote 56 These sangats were concentrated in essentially Uttar Pradesh and follow the Gangetic trade route. It appears that the Khatris established Sikhism as the religion of their merchant culture.
The Sikh Gurus, as discussed below, established a system of masands (administrative officers) in the mid-sixteenth century to act as preachers and charity collectors to sangats across North India. The masands outside of Punjab were the points of contact between the Guru and his Sikhs; the masands would usually communicate messages from both sides and collect donations from the sangats. The masands, it seems, were not encouraged to convert new Sikhs in these various cities; instead they were employed to assist the existing sangats. Accordingly, in these cities sangats remained largely composed of Khatris. A telling example of this Khatri dominance is found in Guru Tegh Bahadur's Hukumnama (letter of command) to his Benares sangat in which he says, ‘The Guru shall protect (guru rakhega) [the congregation] in the province of Benares; your businesses shall prosper (karbar hove).’Footnote 57 The emphasis on karbar (business; trade) indicates a Khatri base.
Unlike the other Sikh cities mentioned above, Delhi appears to have been different because it had a substantial non-Khatri melange of castes that belonged to the sangat. It is likely that in more populous Delhi the Sikh sangat attracted other mercantile and artisanal castes and therefore the socio-economic spectrum within the Khatri community itself was wider, thus creating internal differences. (The reason why other mercantile and artisanal castes joined the Delhi sangat is considered below.) In contrast, in Benares, for example, the contemporary Sikh community remains predominately Khatri, with a very small minority of other castes.Footnote 58 This suggests that aside from Delhi in this period, the sangats in other cities undoubtedly experienced similar challenges when learning of Guru Gobind Singh's innovation, but the potential for communal discord was limited.
Sainapati portrays Delhi's Khatri community in general as being well-connected, organized, with political and economic clout. The Khatris are shown as having a strong attachment to the practice of bhaddar and use of hukka, and largely justified their dislike of the Khalsa's ethical code because of its implications for Khatri caste practices. It must be noted though that while Sainapati often identifies the Khatri community as a monolithic group, he does on occasion show how some Khatris did abide by the Khalsa code of conduct. In particular, Sainapati says it was the Khatri panchayat that orchestrated the attack against Delhi's Khalsa Sikhs, indicating that it was the elites of the Khatri community who most disliked the Khalsa.
By contrast, the ‘other’ Sikhs appear to be a collective of caste groups that seemed to have little power in the region and were unable to resist or reverse the Khatri trading ban. These ‘other’ Sikhs clearly were professionally dependent upon the business and cooperation of the Khatri elites. It is most probable these ‘other’ Sikhs included mercantile castes such as poor Khatris, Aroras, and possibly Alhuwalias as well as artisanal castes such as Tarkhans (carpenters), Lohars (blacksmiths), and various other artisans. It is possible that Jat Sikhs were also represented among the ranks of the ‘other’ Sikhs.
From Sainapati we learn that the Sikh temples of Delhi were a lively arena for debate. The temple offered a place where Sikhs could not only discuss spiritual matters, but also foster professional networks. While the social disparities among them would not have been completely eliminated by the influence of Sikhism, they certainly would have been diminished to an appreciable extent. The creation of the Khalsa caused a severe rupture to these existing commercial relationships. But why did this Sikh commercial society allow itself to disintegrate rather than pull together and protect its commercial interests? An important reason must have been because of differing economic priorities and cultural associations.
What is certain about the ‘other’ Sikhs was their sincere devotion to the Khalsa's ethical code; they had no qualms whatsoever about joining the Khalsa and were willing to endure a campaign of persecution for their beliefs. If we contrast the situation in Delhi with the reaction to the Khalsa in Punjab, we can possibly detect the reason why the ‘other’ Sikhs joined the Khalsa. In the Punjab region the main converts to Khalsa Sikhism were from Jat zamindars and the Jat peasantry, as well as other lower caste groups amenable to military service, such as Tarkhans. In the context of rural Punjab it seems clear that the Jat community joined the Khalsa for a mixture of reasons, including religious faith, social mobility, and the belief that the Khalsa would offer them a zamindari confederation.Footnote 59 It is likely that the motivation for Delhi's ‘other’ Sikhs to join the Khalsa reflect these concerns. It is possible Delhi's ‘other’ Sikhs formed a Punjabi diaspora in Delhi with strong socio-economic and cultural ties with rural Punjab. Mercantile groups may have been motivated by a pressing need to maintain local trading networks, whereas artisanal groups needed to maintain kinship ties.
But the Khalsa did not prove as popular among Punjab's urbanites and revenue farmers (ijaradars), which were largely dominated by the Khatri community.Footnote 60 It is important to note with regard to caste groups such as the Khatris that the internal diversity in their kinship system made matrimonial alliances a fraught issue and, despite being a monolithic caste group, they were deeply divided with respect to kinship.Footnote 61 Thus it is possible that certain sections of the Khatri community were more influenced by their Khatri relations in rural Punjab than by their Khatri neighbours in Delhi. It is pertinent to point out that the first of five beloved ones, Daya Singh, was a Khatri from Lahore.
There may be another reason why Delhi's pro-Khalsa Sikhs accepted the Khalsa's code. This may have been the result of their dependency on Sikh institutions for education. Sikhism's written culture and egalitarian principles seems to have fostered Sikh schools in certain parts of Mughal India. The Sikh literati were certainly educated in Sikh temple towns in Punjab, where they would at least have studied Sikh scriptures. By the early eighteenth century the Sikh community had produced several outstanding savants writing mainly in Punjabi and Braj, using the Gurmukhi script.Footnote 62 Aside from savants, Guru Amar Das (r. 1552–1574) created the masand (administrative officers) system during his tenure. The masands were of vital importance to the functioning of early Sikh society and they were appointed on the grounds of their piety and literacy. As touched upon above, their primary duty was to assist existing sangats rather than to convert new Sikhs. It is also likely that the masands and other literate Sikhs would have been encouraged by the Gurus to found Sikh schools, known as both taksal (treasury) and dharamsala (temple), in local sangats.Footnote 63 Sikh boys would have been sent to the dharamasala, similar to the madrasas of that era, to study Sikh scriptures. Interestingly, in the Dabistan-i Mazahib the author states that by the mid-seventeenth century the vast majority of masands were Jats, replacing the earlier masands who were mainly Khatris and Brahmans: ‘they have made Khatris subordinate to the Jatts, who are the lowest caste of the Bais [Vaishyas]. Thus most of the leading masands (commanders/officers) of the Guru are Jatts, and the Brahmans and Khatris (comprise the) . . . disciples and followers of the Guru.’Footnote 64 From this we can infer that many Jat Sikhs became literate and numerate through the education they received at Sikh schools.
Delhi's Khalsa Sikhs probably were dependent on these Sikh schools, where it is unlikely that their children studied alongside elite Khatri and Brahman children, for a free education. While Sikh schools did not offer a Persian education, in order to assist in the recitation of Sikh texts they must have provided schooling in the Hindavi vernacular and basic numeracy, and such language and mathematical skills would have been important to their future daily lives. However, in other urban Sikh sangats, for example, in Benares, it is probable that Sikh schools were not a significant attraction for the local Sikh population because they were in predominantly Khatri areas; accordingly children would have been educated along more traditional lines. It is possible that Delhi's Khalsa adherents became pro-Khalsa because their teachers were from lowly backgrounds such as Jat masands.
The Khatri community in medieval India rose to a position of prominence as a munshi class of merchants and scribes comparable to the Kayasths.Footnote 65 That said, the hierarchical nature of the Khatri community shows that they were not a homogenous group.Footnote 66 Nonetheless, as a whole, the Khatris enjoyed a privileged position as a result of the vast trading network stretching from the Caspian port of Astrakhan down to southern India that had been created by Khatri merchant families.Footnote 67 In particular, they had a mercantile presence in Punjab and the Ganges valleyFootnote 68 and, as we have seen, in Delhi they formed a major commercial bloc.Footnote 69 The Khatris’ success was principally due to their early adoption of Persian, the lingua franca of the Indo-Islamic world and their caste structure which enabled them to create a network of communities.Footnote 70 Many Khatris also served with distinction in the Mughal system as scribes and political advisers, and many more were bureaucrats.Footnote 71 The elites of Khatri society were politically and culturally embedded within the Persianate world of the Mughal empire.
Prior to the making of the Khalsa, the Khatri community had supported the temporality of the Sikh Gurus. Why then did they, especially the elite, react so vehemently against the Khalsa's ethical code? In the Khatris’ negotiations with the hakam they had expressed the view that Khalsa Sikhism inherently challenged the Mughal system, which was something that did not sit well with them. In their various meetings they raised the following further objections to the Khalsa: the permanent suspension of bhaddar (tonsure rites), the permanent ban on hukka (tobacco consumption) as well as the implicit challenge to Mughal authority. Let us explore these three issues in more depth.
First, the Khatris objected to the ban on bhaddar (tonsure rites) on the grounds that it was of central importance to Khatri ancestral purity and identity. As Olivelle remarks, shaving is the most widespread practice found in Hindu rituals around hair.Footnote 72 As such, the meaning of the ritual shaving of hair is complex and within the complexities there are contradictions. Usually, in the Punjab region, before a cremation all the sons and grandsons of the deceased are shaved.Footnote 73 But in Punjab the tonsure rites are not confined to times of death: the first tonsure of a young boy is also an important rite of passage.Footnote 74 The ritual of bhaddar represents a temporary separation from society and is seen as an act of rebirth. The removal of the hair represents also a separation from life and as the hair grows back, the person gradually merges back into his life. The performance of the act purifies the self and removes pollution. Ibbetson explained that the act of tonsure provides an opportunity ‘to swear lasting friendships’ with kinsmen and friends: it is an act that reinforces real kinship and forms fictive kinship.Footnote 75
The Khatri community had two main reasons to maintain the practice of bhaddar: to nurture a connection to Brahmanical society and to maintain a sense of Khatri homogeneity. The practice of bhaddar, like the taking of the ‘scared thread’ (jeneu), was a Brahmanical rite.Footnote 76 Pre-Khalsa Sikh practices critiqued such Brahmanical rites, but it appears that this did not prevent Sikhs from engaging in them, and they were socially tolerated within the Sikh community. Had the Khatri community abandoned the tonsure rites, they would have been socially stigmatized in Brahmanical circles and been illegible for any other Brahmanical ritual. The pervasive belief in the pollution and sin that would be incurred by Khatris if they abandoned bhaddar would have been coupled with more pragmatic concerns regarding trade. The Khatri community's commercial success, similar to other merchant castes in the period, was dependent upon the caste-based fellowship of other Khatris across their trading network. These trading networks would have operated on trustFootnote 77—but trust could only be maintained if Khatri society possessed a homogenous culture of kinship. If Delhi's Khatris were ostracized from the Khatri trading network, it would have been disastrous for their businesses. And, as noted above, aside from Delhi, the other urban Sikh sangats along the Gangetic route were predominantly composed of Khatris. Therefore, from the Khatri perspective the permanent suspension of bhaddar could potentially destroy their caste structure and with it their prosperous livelihoods.Footnote 78
Second, the Khatris objected to the ban on tobacco consumption (hukka). The ban on hukka must not be narrowly construed. Although tobacco had no role in either kinship or social rituals, it could have been seen as being symbolic of wider cultural norms of behaviour associated with Mughal courtly culture. The development of a distinctive Mughal adab (civility) has been well documented,Footnote 79 but as O’Hanlon points out, in late seventeenth century Delhi and other North Indian centres there was ‘a complexly stratified urban elite, of greater and lesser amirs, lower ranking mansabdars and merchant households’.Footnote 80 The great households of Delhi were the main consumers of luxury commodities and building projects in the area and therefore they would have had personal relationships with merchant houses and bought goods directly from them. Merchant houses consequently would have competed fiercely for clients from Delhi's upper echelons and would have offered a wide spectrum of professional services to elite clients, from the sale of goods to banking and asset management. Accordingly the merchant could not appear uncouth in the presence of an elite customer and would have adopted the habits of their client who, perhaps, considered the smoking of tobacco to be refined. In popular stories of the period two images of the merchant emerge: the ‘frugal merchant’ and the lavish ‘great sahu’. Unlike the ‘frugal merchant’, the ‘great sahu’ was associated with indulgent Mughal behaviour such as smoking the hukka and keeping concubines, and occasionally he was depicted as a Khatri.Footnote 81 Hence for Khatri merchants the ban on tobacco might have appeared as the first prohibition of many to come that would ultimately destabilize their client relationships.
Third, the Khatris objected to the challenge to Mughal authority implicit in the Khalsa code of conduct. While political change can be positive for commercial enterprises, at the turn of the eighteenth century to any Mughal insider the Khalsa represented another local zamindari movement that would eventually dissipate into nothingness because the Mughal empire would bring them under control. It was easy therefore to regard the Khalsa as nothing more than upstarts largely composed of the Punjabi peasantry. Only in the hearts of adherents such as Sainapati was it believed that the Khalsa's triumph was inevitable. Many elite Khatri families had invested heavily in the Mughal empire by establishing client and courtly relationships over many decades. They had hustled in the marketplaces and sent their sons to learn Persian and the etiquette of a Mughal gentleman—now suddenly the Khalsa Sikhs were criticizing their Mughal dispositions. As Alam and Subrahmanyam inform us, after 1700 there was a ‘veritable explosion’ in the Mughal administrative system of Khatris and other high-caste Hindu scribes.Footnote 82 Thus, at the turn of the eighteenth century the Khatri community would have comprised a generation of parents and children embarking on new and exciting professional careers,Footnote 83 and the Khalsa's prohibitions would have undermined both parental and communal aspirations that had been fermenting for several generations.
In addition, we cannot ignore the snobbery that would have existed in elite Khatri society towards the lowly Khalsa Sikhs in Delhi. Many Khatris would have seen themselves as Mughal gentlemen, who were fluent in Persian. Adepts of Persian were known as farsiyat (those with Persian) and the uneducated as bifarsiyat (those without Persian).Footnote 84 It is likely that when Khalsa Sikhs spoke, certain members of their society might have commented on their lack of manners and discernment. In turn, many Khalsa Sikhs would have no doubt seen the elite Khatris as snobs. These prejudices would obviously have hindered social discourse on the Khalsa's formation.
Against these contrasting social backgrounds, it is unsurprising that Delhi's Sikh society was so divided after the Khalsa's formation. The main adherents of the Khalsa movement came from lower caste backgrounds with a narrow regional view of the Mughal empire. In stark contrast, the elite Khatris had a comprehensive view of the Mughal empire. The latter simply could not make calculations based on faith alone—they had to weigh up how their actions would affect their vast trading and services network. The Khatris also could not forget that their most significant clientele were from elite Mughal society. Khalsa Sikhs, on the other hand, were often dependent on Sikh institutions for economic and social support and could clearly see the benefits of a Sikh kingdom in Punjab and even Delhi region for them.
In the first half of the eighteenth century the elite Khatri Sikh community demonstrated their loyalties by actively supporting the Mughals against the Khalsa insurgency. Khatri Sikhs financed military campaigns and worked as diplomats and administrators for the Mughal empire.Footnote 85 That said, many of these same Khatri Sikhs did attempt to help the Khalsa as well, such as Diwan Hardyal, who in 1710 apparently attempted to help the Khalsa obtain provisions during the siege of Lohgarh, despite being a prominent member of the royal camp.Footnote 86 In fact, in August 1710, Emperor Bahadur Shah ordered all Hindus in imperial service to shave off their beards in order to weed out any Khatris with Khalsa sympathies.Footnote 87
But the endeavours of those elite Khatris opposed to the Khalsa bore no fruit in the longer term because by the late eighteenth century Sikh kingdoms effectively ruled the Punjab region. With the change in circumstances Khalsa Sikhs began to express a general disdain for elite Khatri Sikhs in their code of conduct texts, much of which centres on the Khatris’ reaction to the Khalsa in Delhi. Moreover, Khatri narratives seem to respond to this disdain by retrospectively emphasizing their meekness at the moment when the Khalsa was formed and the fact that they were unable to challenge the Mughal empire because of their social standing.
The Musaddi Sikhs in eighteenth century Khalsa Sikh literature
Following the episode in Delhi recorded by Sainapati, the Khalsa Singhs spent the rest of the eighteenth century engaged in warfare and political conquest.Footnote 88 By contrast, due to the political insecurity of Punjab after 1710, the Khatri trading community witnessed the movement of trade from the northwest route eastwards to the benefit of the Gangetic route.Footnote 89 The markets of Delhi and Panipat experienced a decline at the expense of growing principalities such as Rohilkhand and Awadh. Nevertheless, despite the general economic decline in Delhi, it appears Delhi's elite Khatris continued to prosper as a result of their international trading networks—the old capital marked the starting point of a chain of trading settlements which flowed up into Central Asia and as far as the Caspian entrepôt city of Astrakhan. In addition, the Khatris and their fellow merchant castes coped with these fluctuations in state power by seeking mercantile alliances with each other and thereby creating ‘a unified merchant class’.Footnote 90
Throughout this transitional era the Khalsa literati began reflecting on the conduct befitting a Singh and cultivating an image of the Singh as a righteous warrior. Rahitnama (code of conduct) literature became a genre popular among the Khalsa Sikh literati in the pre-colonial period. The rahitnamas of the eighteenth century often discussed the Khalsa Singh's relationship with the musaddi (clerk, scribe, civil servant) Sikhs who represented the elite Khatri Sikh without it being explicitly stated that they were Khatris. The distinguishing characteristic of the musaddi was fluency in Persian and, by extension, fondness for Mughal Persianate civility and employment (naukari) in Indo-Islamic (Turk) courts. The Khalsa Singhs were encouraged to feel antipathy towards the musaddi.
The Chaupa Singh Rahitnama advised Khalsa Sikhs not to forgive certain transgressions of musaddi Sikhs: ‘With respect to the Guru's musaddi Sikhs, they who are employed in Indo-Islamic courts (sarkar Turkan), forgive them for all their transgressions (kurahitan) with the exception of the following three: first, daughter killing; second, tonsure rites (bhaddan), and third, consumption of tobacco (bikhiaa).’Footnote 91 This seems a rather harsh line as the elite Khatris had opted not to join the Khalsa in order to be able to practise bhaddar and use hukka. Yet under this injunction even non-Khalsa Sikhs were prohibited from bhaddar and hukka. The Chaupa Singh Rahitnama also contains a revealing anecdote:
In Sambat 1759 [1702 c.e.] the festival of Vaisakhi (Punjabi spring) had finished, the commander (nakib) was ordered to—‘tell all the congregants it is time to return home’. So the commander loudly commanded, ‘The order as come from the Guru that it is now time for all the congregants to go home.’
Hearing this all the congregations began on their journeys home. The commander gave the order and all the congregations left. But one Rai Singh [a Khatri] remained from the departed congregations, he was told: ‘Hey Sikh, if you want to keep your Sikhi [i.e. religion] then go home.’ He [Rai Singh] then spoke, ‘True Lord (Sache Patshah), I have taken all my household hopes (asan) [i.e. left his household duties] to come and remain here. How will my Sikhi then remain if I go home?’ The Guru replied: ‘Your Sikhi can only remain at home and not here. You are fluent in Persian (pariaa hoya farsi) and we are going to war (judhdh). People like you need advice (salah) and plans (mansube), we only have commotion (roula). You will see this commotion and ask due to your learning (tatvijan), notice all the things we are doing wrong, saying ‘here the Lord (sahib) was mistaken’. You will sit down, conduct discourses and meticulously count the details. But we are solely causing commotion. Because there is commotion in the community (panth) that is why war is occurring, but if there was not any commotion, then right now we would return home and get engrossed in our children, property and wealth. Because right now it is a period of commotion there is no attachment (moh) in our minds.’Footnote 92
The Khatri Sikhs were considered inadequate for military service principally because they were familiar with Persian. It was believed that being of a Persianate disposition meant that Khatris were familiar with analysing and debating ideas, but did not have the disposition to be warriors. By contrast, Khalsa Singhs were soldiers who followed the commands of their Guru with unwavering faith and were prepared to kill and be killed without a second thought. Unlike the Khatris, the Khalsa warriors did not take calculated risks about life and death.
In several rahitnamas Khalsa Singhs were advised to avoid Persian speakers and even the Persian language. In the Daya Singh Rahitnama the author told the Singhs to avoid Persian speakers:
Those I have named above do not eat their food; do not offer them any patronage (dhan); he who smokes tobacco, he who is learned in Persian, he is not mine nor am I his, never drink water from that Sikh's hands. Never trust one learned in Persian, never eat any grain (ann) off him, he who gets married by Brahmanical rites. Fine him who does not follows the Guru's customs. Fine him who learns Persian.Footnote 93
The author was clearly attacking the Khatris and other Persianate elites. He reiterated this point by stating ‘only hire Khalsa Sikhs for the positions of warrior (fauj), clerk (musaddi), minister (wazir) and treasurer (diwan), it will increase the faith (dharm)’.Footnote 94 The Rahitnama of Bhai Sahib Singh advised: ‘Never learn Arabic and Persian; my Sikh does not do the service (naukari) [of Indo-Islamic court].’Footnote 95 The Khalsa Singhs were forbidden to do the naukari of any lord other than the Khalsa Panth: in the Desa Singh Rahitnama it states a ‘[a Khalsa Singh] is a naukar only to the Khalsa’.Footnote 96 Of course, this order to avoid Persian was not meant to be taken literally because many Khalsa Sikhs were learned in Persian, but it does show the disdain the Singhs had for Persianate civility and those elite Khatris who belonged to that Mughal world.
The Saraswat Brahman Khalsa Sikh litterateur, Kesar Singh Chhibbar, in his eighteenth century verse narrative of the Sikh Gurus and their families, Bansavalinama Dasan Patshahian Ka (Genealogy of the Ten Kings), explained that Guru Gobind Singh created the Khalsa identity with the intention that it would be separate from the Mughal (Turk) and, interestingly, Khatri identities:
The first order (adi bachan) was regarding the [abolition] of the tonsure rights (bhaddan).
And all the Sikhs accepted this [order from Guru Gobind Singh].
[The Guru] wished to make his Khalsa distinct (nikheriee) and thus separate (juda) from the world.
[The Guru] made a third path next to the existing two paths;
That path was placed in contestation (chheriee) with the Mughals (Turkan). (291)
[The Guru said] ‘Let us make our appearance (nishani) separate from the Turks (tatiaan) and Khatris (khatriaan).
Let us do this by making our heads into our distinctive symbol (sis nishani).’
This was established as the primary foundation (phile muniaadi) of the Khalsa;
It was unequivocally affirmed (thhiri pakki) that bhaddan (tonsure rights) must not be performed. (292)Footnote 97
Despite being a Brahman, Chhibbar condemned the practice of the tonsure rites, which he associates with the Khatris. In his opinion the Khatris, exactly like the Mughals, were separate from the Khalsa's nishani (appearance; symbol). Chhibbar, like the rest of the Khalsa literati of the period, knew of, either directly or indirectly, Sainapati's narrative regarding the Khatris’ reaction to the Khalsa in Delhi. As a result of that episode, the issue of bhaddar Footnote 98 became centrally important for the eighteenth century Khalsa intelligentsia when explaining the uniqueness of their identity and their disassociation from Indo-Islamic civility and Brahmanical practices. In eighteenth century Khalsa literature the musaddi Sikhs became almost an enemy within the Sikh sangat; even though they were not a true reprobate group, as result of their early eighteenth century political loyalties, there was a lingering suspicion that they hated the Khalsa's distinctive nishani and political objectives.
The musaddi Khatris did not respond to these Khalsa accusations of meekness and untrustworthiness by objecting to the characterization. In Ganesh Das Vadhera's nineteenth century Persian history, Char Bagh-i Panjab, completed in 1849, he reflects upon the reasons why the Khatris rejected the Khalsa. This is particularly significant because Vadhera was from a family of Khatri administrators and had spent his career working as an administrator in his native Punjab. Importantly, Vadhera's account was partly composed of family reminiscences and arguably reflects a more general Khatri opinion on their caste's reaction to the Khalsa's formation in Punjab and Delhi. Vadhera wrote:
When Guru Gobind Singh gave pahul to the Sikhs and made them the Khalsa, he asked the Khatris, in the first instance, to wear arms and to fight against the armies of the Muslim rulers to establish their own rule. They submitted, in reply, that they were extremely weak and could not afford to incur the enmity of their rulers. They requested to be left alone.Footnote 99
Vadhera refers to those Khatris employed in Mughal service. The Khatris’ emphasis on their ‘weakness’ and lack of courage can possibly be read from the perspective of any pragmatic retailer who might say ‘the customer is always right’. The Khatri community did not want to harm their goodwill with the Khalsa Sikhs—and here it should be reiterated that Vadhera had worked for Sikh states. However, read in the context of the changes experienced by the Khatri community after the decline of the Mughal empire it may reflect how the Khatris had re-examined their identity as the eighteenth century progressed. There was perhaps a conscious effort to move away from the Mughal-oriented culture of the ‘great sahu’ that had once featured prominently in the aspirations of elite Khatris; instead they might have begun to embrace a more frugal merchant culture. Bayly notes how the Khatris in late eighteenth century Benares partitioned their lives into Persian and Punjabi realms: ‘“Punjabi” dialect was used in the home, Persian outside; Persian court dress was exchanged for the dhoti at home; the outward magnificence of the haveli palace contrasted with the severity of its inner rooms; “Khattri” jewellery was kept separately from “Mughal” jewellery.’Footnote 100 The separation of Punjabi and Persian perhaps reflected how the Khatris began to feel that Mughal civility was artificial, and that Punjabi or (more likely) a desi (native) Khatri culture was natural. It is possible that the emergence of Khalsa political power gradually felt more desi to eighteenth century elite Khatri sensibilities because Sikhism had continued to play an important role in Khatri bhakti practices—and after all the Sikh Gurus were Khatris.
The public debate that occurred in early eighteenth century Delhi shaped the Sikh community in a profound way for the rest of the century. It created a boundary between the Khalsa Singhs and the musaddi Sikhs. This boundary reflected the real transition experienced by ordinary Sikhs in the early eighteenth century as Sikhism became a coherent political bhakti tradition. The musaddi Sikhs were unable to move with the times, and the elite Khatri community subsequently had to reassess their relationship with Sikhism as the Khalsa grew in popularity and power. In addition, the decline of the Mughal empire resulted in Mughal civility losing its glamour in a marketplace occupied by the nouveau riche Khalsa Singhs. Accordingly the distinction between the Khalsa Singh and the musaddi Sikh gradually disappeared from nineteenth century Khalsa literature. So for the Sikhs of the late eighteenth century onwards, the public debate and persecution in Delhi, as recorded in the Sri Gur Sobha, became irrelevant and was remembered only in the text. And for the Khalsa literati the importance of bhaddar as a marker of the identity of a Singh lost its meaning, although the significance of having kes (unshorn hair) never disappeared.
Conclusion
Studies on early Sikhism typically show the Khalsa's formation as a turning point that was somehow inevitable, given the supposedly ‘intolerant’ milieu created by Aurangzeb. Members of the Sikh community are depicted as having homogenous visions of Sikhism and the Mughal empire. But the Sri Gur Sobha displays a more complex perspective on early Sikh society in which the heterogeneous sangat was divided by caste as well as by alternative opinions on Sikh bhakti and the legitimacy of the Mughal empire. These complexities were captured in early eighteenth century Delhi as the Sikh community was confronted with new issues around faith and lifestyle caused by the Khalsa's formation. For some, the Khalsa's ethical code was perfectly reasonable. But for others, the Khalsa's injunctions against, in particular, bhaddar and hukka were dangerous and had the potential to undermine the very fabric of their society. The Sikhs of Delhi were thus not only being asked to take a leap of faith, they were being asked to reject the validity of Mughal rule and publically pledge themselves to serve the Khalsa's army. The rejection of Mughal sovereignty went beyond mere questions of religious devotion and instead asked Sikhs to potentially sacrifice the lives they had become accustomed to. For Delhi's elite Khatri Sikhs becoming Khalsa would have undoubtedly damaged their prosperous livelihoods as they attracted unfriendly Mughal attention and abandoned their ancestral traditions. But for many of their fellow Sikhs the dismantling of the Mughal system was greeted with feelings of optimism and hope. For adherents like Sainapati, the Mughal empire was corrupt and the Khalsa had a mandate of heaven to rule.
The legacy of the Delhi dispute was a change in the relationship between elite Khatri society and Sikhism. In the view of the Khalsa literati the musaddi Sikhs became enemies within the sangat. And in the opinion of elite Khatri society, Khalsa Sikhism marginalized their social role in the sangat and further moved Sikhism from an outwardly mercantile bhakti religious tradition to a political bhakti religious tradition. Despite this divergence, state formation and commercial realities fostered new and productive socio-economic relationships as the Khalsa gradually obtained political power in the eighteenth century and as the Khatri merchant network adapted to a post-Mughal era in which the darbars and bazaars had less need for the ‘great sahu’ merchant culture. The difference between Khalsa Sikhs and non-Khalsa Sikhs (or sahajdhari [slow adopter] Sikhs) remained. But the differences between Khalsa and musaddi or Persianate Sikhs lost all meaning as the Mughal empire became a memory.
While the focus of this paper has been on the immediate impact of the Khalsa and its legacy for eighteenth century Sikh society, the issues raised here highlight the possibility of exploring the history of trade and Sikhism in medieval and early modern India. Up to now the main interest in the study of Sikhism during this period has been focused on its military aspects which have overshadowed the importance of Sikhism in influencing the merchant networks of the era, notably the Khatri network. Sikhism emerged as a mercantile bhakti religion and the early Sikh Gurus were interested in the culture and activities of the medieval merchant. It was due to this interest that trading castes, such as the Khatris, were drawn to Sikhism and why the Khatris in early eighteenth century Delhi felt at such odds with the creation of the Khalsa. The elite Khatris disliked the Khalsa's impingement on established Sikh practices which were so much part of their lives that they could not merely abandon Sikhism. Owing to the fact that Sikhism had such a profound impact on a major Indian merchant caste, it is likely to prove fruitful for historians of business in South Asia to explore more generally how Sikhism shaped merchant culture, including related subjects like contract law in pre-modern India, and how Sikh mercantilism interacted with other merchant religions such as Jainism.
In the context of early modern India this episode of Sikh public philosophy demonstrates how different strands of society were talking to each other about important issues that affected their lives. It is within these communal dialectics, which gripped the hearts and minds of both the intelligentsia and organic intellectuals, that more complex cultural, political, and socio-economic processes in medieval and early modern India are revealed. In the eighteenth century the Khalsa Sikhs—like the Marathas, Jats, Rajputs, and Bhumihar Brahmins—would form the major ‘Hindu’ kingdoms in India by gradually seizing power from the Mughal empire. These new kingdoms were moulded by the discourses that had occurred within their communities. The Khalsa, for example, saw themselves as anti-Mughal in their conduct and politics, primarily due to the memory of Guru Gobind Singh's relationship with Aurangzeb. The musaddi Sikhs were hated by the Khalsa because they reeked of Mughal civility and were thus considered to be untrustworthy. It is more than likely that the other ‘Hindu’ kingdoms had similar cultural histories that imbibed their conduct and politics. While it is possible to dismiss these cultural histories as unimportant, for these military brotherhoods bonded by caste or religion, communal memories were fundamental in forming their attitudes towards a range of subjects, from battlefield strategies to policies on trade and agriculture. In order to better understand the political and military history of post-Mughal India it is necessary to tease out from our sources on these various communities the events that sculpted their perceptions of the world. For the Khalsa, the discourse in Delhi, as told by Sainapati, had a noticeable legacy on their identity and political relationships with the Mughals and elite Khatris. The medievalist and early modernist must continue to uncover those visions of politics and war because they had an appreciable influence on state formation in eighteenth century South Asia.