Addendum: A fair criticism of the column below might be that I cut Sikhs For Justice far too much slack.
Today, at a rally at the Kanishka- Air India Flight 182 Memorial site Toronto, SFJ’s Jatinder Singh Grewal fingered Indian intelligence agencies for the 1985 atrocity and further accused the Indian government of conjuring an “imaginary ghost of ‘Sikh terrorism'” as the culprit. One placard read: “India planned and executed Kanishka bombing.”
This is a fabulist conspiracy-theory concoction of the most sinister kind. I happen to know this because I happen to know who planned and executed the plot that succeeded in blowing the Kanishka out of the sky off the coast of Ireland that day. I was covering this stuff while Jatinder Singh Grewal was still in diapers. I first interviewed Babbar Khalsa’s Talwinder Singh Parmar when I was a kid reporter on Canada’s west coast, years before he came to prominence as a terrorist fugitive using Canada as a safe haven owing to Canada’s lack of an extradition treaty with India.
In a series for the Globe and Mail, I spent time inside the Golden Temple complex in Amritsar before the Khalistani fanatics were bombed out of there in Operation Bluestar. I interviewed the Khalistanis’ Osama bin Laden figure, Jarnail Singh Bhinderanwale, at length. I covered a speech he delivered to his generals, urging them to “fly through the air with their swords” in the slaughter of Hindus. I interrogated all the rest of those Taliban-like reprobates as well.
In his four-story fortress with sandbagged gun batteries on the roof and at each corner balcony on every floor, Parmar’s senior Babbar Khalsa general, Commander Sukhdev Singh, boasted about Babbar Khalsa’s atrocities and assassinations. “When we go to kill, we leave our pamphlets,” he said, bragging that he’d overseen at least 40 assassinations on Parmar’s orders, but that strictly speaking, he wasn’t certain, because he’d lost count.
Commander Sukhdev Singh was no “imaginary ghost of Sikh terrorism.” Neither was Bhinderanwale or Parmar. The Sikh people, in Punjab and abroad, in their overwhelming majority, passionately devout and casually observant, have been made to carry the burden of this toxic Khalistani propaganda for far too long. It should stop.
By the time the extravaganza touched down in Canada on Tuesday, the advance publicity for the whirlwind tour of India’s dazzling “rock star” Prime Minister Narendra Modi had already worked its crowd-wowing magic. After only small-venue gigs in France and Germany last week, Modi would be playing Ottawa, Toronto and Vancouver. Now he’s here. It’s all so very exciting.
Modi’s breakout show at New York’s Madison Square Garden last September drew about 18,000 fans. Even his performance at the Allphones Arena in Sydney last November pulled in about 15,000 Australians, while another 4,000 people watched his act on big screens outside the stadium. Now that he’s arrived in Canada, it’s like Bollywood. It’s Modimania, and we are all expected to make nice.
This makes the task of raining on Modi’s Canadian parade particularly thankless, but the job has been taken up without complaint by Toronto’s 36-year-old Jatinder Singh Grewal, international policy director for an outfit called Sikhs For Justice. “Regardless of what happens, you just do your best,” Grewal told me. “I just need to work hard to educate Canadians about who this person really is.”
It hasn’t made things any easier for Grewal that Prime Minister Stephen Harper was an ardent admirer of Modi’s long before most Canadians had even heard of him. Back in 2009, when Modi was just the chief minister of the state of Gujarat on India’s Arabian Sea coast, Harper cut the ribbon on a trade office in Ahmedabad, Gujarat’s thriving commercial hub. By then Gujarat’s ports were already moving most of India’s incoming cargo. Modi had been chief minister since 2001, and Gujarat had come to account for nearly seven per cent of the Indian economy. The guy was a firecracker.
Trade competition for Indian affections is a cutthroat business, and opening a Canadian trade office in Gujarat was a sharp move. At the time, Modi couldn’t even get a tourist visa to enter the United States. This is where the Sikhs For Justice case against Modi comes into it. Last Wednesday, SFJ filed an extensive legal brief with Justice Minister Peter MacKay in a formal request that Modi be charged upon his arrival in Canada with the crimes of torture and genocide. The case against Modi alleges that while he was Gujarat’s chief minister in 2002 he had not only failed to prevent but aided, abetted and counselled the massacre of thousands of Muslims.
That went nowhere fast, so a week later constitutional lawyer and Canadian Civil Liberties Association vice-president Marlys Edwardh was in a Toronto courtroom with a Sikhs For Justice petition to have Modi ordered to appear in court to face a private torture charge. I caught up with Grewal by telephone during a break in the closed proceedings. “Whatever happens, Canadians need to know the extent of Modi’s crimes,” he said. Fair enough.
There is a small problem: blame for the 2002 Gujarat atrocities can be apportioned quite fairly without being especially parsimonious. Muslims were massacred. Hindus were massacred. Eruptions of heartbreaking communalist mayhem break out in India with almost clockwork regularity.
The Bharatiya Janata Party’s cunning “rock star” re-branding exertions on Modi’s behalf have failed to completely expunge his unseemly record of shady Hindutva sectarianism, but by December, 2013, an extensive investigation ordered by India’s Supreme Court had wrapped up without nailing him, and hey presto, on May 26, 2014, the BJP swept the polls in elections to the Lok Sabha, and Modi was sworn in as India’s 15th prime minister.