Yellow and blue smoke filled the air as protesters in Vancouver tried setting fire to a damp Indian flag. As the flame eventually took hold, people in the crowd waved Sikh separatist flags and chanted calls for the expulsion of India’s top diplomat in Canada.
Tuesday’s protest outside a heavily guarded Indian consulate came a week after Justin Trudeau, the prime minister, told parliament his government had seen “credible allegations” that India was responsible for the fatal shooting of Hardeep Singh Nijjar, a prominent Canadian Sikh leader.
Amid the pounding of drums and shouts from protesters, the activist Harkeerat Kaur told the crowd that Nijjar’s final words to temple worshippers had been a plea to participate in an upcoming vote calling for an independent Sikh homeland, Khalistan: “[He] stated … we should vow to participate in the peaceful Khalistan referendum. We believe in the ballot.”
Since his death in June, Nijjar has been praised by his community as a martyr – and labelled a terrorist by India. The feuding over his legacy, and mounting concern over what Canada’s government claims was an extrajudicial murder on its soil, has refocused attention on Canada’s Sikh diaspora, their longstanding grievances with India – and the Sikh separatist cause.
Canada is home to the largest Sikh community outside India. Despite a long and layered history in the country, many Canadian Sikhs identify with a sense of historical mistreatment at the hands of both British colonial and post-independence governments in India, said Satwinder Bains, the director of South Asian studies at the University of the Fraser Valley. “They’ve felt those frustrations have never been resolved through the justice system, nor through a parliamentary system. They feel like they’ve tried everything,” she said.
Over generations, some have cultivated hope that Sikhs might one day claim a portion of the Punjab region as their own.
That dream has a long – and violent – history. Beginning around partition in the 1940s, the movement transformed into an armed insurgency in the 1980s, under the leadership of Jarnail Singh Bhindranwale.
In 1984, the Sikh leader, who stood accused of orchestrating a series of attacks on Hindus in Punjab, sought refuge in Amritsar’s Golden Temple alongside other militants.
The Indian army ordered Operation Blue Star, an attack that led to the killing of 400 Sikhs in the temple, many of whom were pilgrims. In retaliation, the bodyguards for Indira Gandhi, the prime minister, shot her dead, triggering anti-Sikh pogroms that killed more than 3,000 people, with little consequence for the attackers.
“It was a horrific time. And in those moments, the idea of Khalistan, of a safe haven for Sikhs, really meant something,” said Neilesh Bose, an associate professor of history at the University of Victoria.
In 1985, Khalistani militants in Canada targeted two Air India flights, widely seen as revenge for Operation Blue Star. A bomb on Air India flight 182 exploded off the coast of Ireland, killing all 329 people onboard, including 268 Canadian citizens, 27 British citizens and 24 Indian citizens in the worst act of aviation terrorism before the September 11 attacks. The second bomb exploded in the Tokyo airport, killing two baggage handlers. The attacks led to discrimination against Sikh men, identifiable by their turbans, even though many had little interest in the Khalistan cause.
“Punjabi Sikhs in Canada were often seen as enemies of the state, targeted by police and seen as responsible for this attack,” said Bose, adding that both the bombings and public backlash changed how the Sikh diaspora saw itself in the broader Canadian public. “These events – 1984, the Air India bombing – they’re inescapable for so many in the Sikh community. Everybody lives in this context of these moments, and these inescapable legacies.”
The Khalistan movement is banned in India, but in Canada generations of Sikh activists have freely advocated for an independent homeland. While political leaders have emphasised the right to free speech and expression in Canada, they have also long courted the Sikh community as a powerful voting bloc.
That has prompted frustration in India, which has accused Canada of turning a blind eye to extremist Khalistani activity and refusing to act on information about potential threats. Before the Air India bombing, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) failed to act on intel from India about plots against airliners, and successive Canadian governments have refused extradition requests of Sikh activists from India.
Indian authorities allege Nijjar was among the Khalistani activists involved in terrorist activity on Canadian soil. They have accused him of organising an arms training camp for Sikh extremists in British Columbia in 2016, being involved in a plot to assassinate a Hindu priest and police officers in Punjab and heading a banned militant organisation, the Khalistani Tiger Force. The allegations, which he denied, were not investigated by the Canadian authorities and remain unproven.
It remains unclear how popular the Khalistan cause is within Canada’s Sikh population. For some, the movement is forever tainted by violence and the painful legacy of the Air India bombing. For others, it represents a powerful way to counter India’s Hindu nationalist government and the growing persecution of religious minorities.
Already this year, thousands in Ontario and British Columbia have cast ballots in a Khalistan referendum, a global diaspora effort as Sikh activists attempt to unify the disparate groups and co-ordinate pressure on the Indian government.
The ballots come as a younger generation has grown more emboldened and provocative. In June, a Sikh group in the city of Brampton prompted outrage with a parade float depicting the assassination of Indira Gandhi, which included a blood-splattered effigy of the murdered leader.
On posters for the referendum championed by leadership at the Guru Nanak gurdwara where Nijjar was shot dead, his image appears alongside a photo of the architect of the Air India bombing.
Such incidents have infuriated India. But the brazen murder of Nijjar – which reportedly involved at least six men who fired around 50 bullets – is only likely to sow further mistrust and resentment among a new generation of Sikhs.
“These are Canadian-born children. They may never have set foot in Punjab,” said Bains. “But through their parents’ or grandparents’ eyes, they have seen the pain, the anger and hurt. And those feelings have been exacerbated over the years because there has been no justice and no closure.”
Indervir Singh, 36, who attended Monday’s rally, said that Nijjar’s death in June and Trudeau’s subsequent allegations are only a reminder of the escalating human rights abuses in India.
“I’m born here. Ever since I was a kid you heard about the atrocity in 1984 when the government killed thousands of innocent people,” Singh said. “We’ve always been rallying against that, fighting against that, and trying to get justice for that.”
Singh said he joined protests in support of Sikh farmers in 2021, but had largely been ambivalent about the pro-separatist movement. “Personally I didn’t really think about it, nor was I supporting it,” he said. “But now that this happened, I think from a sovereignty perspective we’re demanding that.”
While he doubts independence could ever be achieved in India, he said: “As Sikhs we’re known to fight against injustice – whether it costs our lives or not.”
