Punjab Tourism Minister Raja Yasir Humayun Sarfraz, WCLA officials and visitors from Amritsar at the inauguration of the Maharaja Ranjit Singh statue in Lahore last week.—Photo via Press Information Department on Twitter
Punjabi sense of nationhood has been sublimated within the larger Pakistani nationalism conflating Islam, Muslim and Urdu. This made it frustratingly hard for Punjabi intellectuals, mostly affiliated with Marxists groups, to plead for or articulate an idea of Punjabi nationhood that could be rooted in its language and mobilised for a progressive polity addressing class issues.
In other words, the statist project of an Islam-based identity with Urdu as its flagship has made such massive inroads that the successive generation of Punjabi activists has found it difficult to counter it.
For them, the Ranjit Singh’s statue, therefore, is a breath of fresh air that could possibly become a precedent for similar steps to be followed. For them, it remains important that the act of recognition — whether for Dulla Bhatti or Bhagat Singh — should come from the state as it signifies a symbolic reversal of policy.
From the perspective of Pakistani liberals, it is a welcome step as it interrupts the singular telos of Muslim history that is taught at schools and rhetorically championed in the larger public sphere. There is a strong element of truth in this approach.
Also read: A forgotten shrine near Lahore stands witness to the havoc wreaked by Ahmed Shah Abdali
The inclusion of Ranjit Singh sits uneasily with a historical timeline which, simultaneously, champions the exploits of Ahmad Shah Abdali. Widely hailed as a saviour of the Muslims of Punjab from the excesses of Sikh and Maratha violence in the mid-18th century, Pakistani textbooks pay lavish tribute to his military campaigns and services to the 'glory of Islam' — so much so that one of Pakistan’s ballistic missiles is named after him.
Similarly, Pakistani textbooks pay glorious tributes to the jihad led by Sayyid Ahmad against the Sikh rule. This militaristic attempt was also aimed at ‘liberating’ the Muslims of Punjab.
Any historical representation for a statist project — whether as a museum artefact or textbook — is marked with erasures of some aspects of history that do not conform with the rest of the narrative. Historical narratives, therefore, and especially statist narratives, have seeds of subversion within. They are marked by silencing of voices and insist on a particular type of truth about a historical figure or event.
Up until now, it has been the erasure of Pakistan’s non-Muslim pasts and their richness. For once, there has been un-silencing of this past, so it counts as a welcome step for Pakistani liberals.
Languages of commemoration
What I find problematic, however, is the celebratory language used on this occasion rooted in the language of power, state and empire.
Tweets and comments ‘welcoming’ Ranjit Singh hailed him, not as the ruler of Punjab, but the founder of an empire whose boundaries stretched up to Afghanistan in the west and Kashmir and Ladakh in the north.
This valourising of the Maharaja, thus, is thinly veiled othering of the Afghan as savage — with a certain fear and appreciation for the adversary as well — whose savagery could only be matched by a noble savage who was able to give them a taste of their own medicine.
Now read: Remembering Dulla Bhatti, the landlord who stood up to the mighty Akbar
Regardless of what Punjabi nationalists think of their ‘son of the soil’ and reasons for honouring him, it cannot be overlooked that, in contemporary Pakistan, where Punjabi-dominated military and bureaucracy is seen responsible for the misery of every other ethnic group, such an act of state recognition — that, too, for a figure known for military exploits outside of Punjab — is interpreted as a celebration of Punjabi chauvinism.
People outside of Punjab may not be willing to understand the reasons for which Punjabi nationalists, a handful as they might be, are celebrating him, given what they have suffered at the hands of the same Punjabi-dominated state.
Counter histories and memories
This occasion of honouring Ranjit Singh has prompted other ethno-nationalist ideologues to demand similar recognition for their warrior-like figures. The most interesting is the case of Nawab Muzaffar Khan of Multan.
The afterlife of his battle with the Lahore Darbar can be aptly summed up using Agha Shahid Ali’s words: “My memory keeps getting in the way of your history”.
The expansion of Singh’s Lahore Darbar, brutal as it was like any other empire, brought him into conflict with the ruler of Multan. The war that followed was violent, where Nawab Muzaffar Khan died fighting along with his sons.
Later, as a Seraiki national identity coalesced in postcolonial Punjab, Muzaffar Khan was to assume the role of a ‘freedom fighter’ who resisted against the aggression of ‘Punjab’.
Taj Muhammad Langah, one of the leaders of Seraiki nationalism, tried to transform Muzaffar Khan’s final resting place into a mausoleum which he would visit every year with a handful of enthusiasts to lay down a floral wreath and chadar.
This shows how collective memories are formed, draw upon a peculiar version of the past that, in turn, itself, is subject to change under different political contexts.
The same holds true for Sindh where a section of hardcore nationalists glorifies Raja Dahir — the ruler of Sindh defeated by Muhammad bin Qasim — as a hero.
One could interpret these responses as an effective way of subverting statist narratives glorifying Muslim rulers and invaders. Such a reactionary approach, and the elusive search in the history of strong men as heroes, is the most unfortunate consequence of authoritarian state practices in Pakistan.
Ever since the notorious imposition of One Unit in 1955, much of progressive politics from smaller provinces have been tainted with ethnic chauvinism.
Explore: How old is Lahore? The clues lie in a blend of historical fact and expedient legend
In the end, coming back to the politics of commemoration, choosing Ranjit Singh among an ideological range of representations is a political act which aims at signalling a specific kind of historical narrative.
It replaces one set of state practices with another, though its supporters don’t think of it as replication and expect a different outcome from such practices.
It is as if all those celebrating Ranjit Singh — or those demanding recognition for Ahmad Shah Abdali for the Pashtuns, Nawab Muzaffar Khan for the Seraikis and Raja Dahir for the Sindhis — are vying for an imperial legacy under the regalia of a sovereign whose politics they agree with, who conforms to their present-day ethnic imaginary or whose religious beliefs they share.
They have convinced themselves that their imperialist treated everyone fairly, and thus ascribe to him such terms as ‘secular’ and ‘liberal’. This, unfortunately, means that their investment remains in the idea of state itself, conquest as state-making and the power that comes with it to establish and safeguard a singular idea of nationhood.
Their commitment to the idea — in this particular case — of Punjab and its history that addresses questions of caste oppression, gender violence and class dispossession should have taken precedence over everything else.
In endorsing the symbol that the state has chosen for them, the nationalists and the liberals have chosen unwisely.
Are you exploring history in Pakistan? Share your insights with us at prism@dawn.com