the mighty Sutlej River glistening under the sun, and the proud Sikh Khalsa army standing

tall, disciplined, and feared across India. This was the Sikh Empire, forged and held together

by the legendary Maharaja Ranjit Singh — a ruler known as the “Lion of Punjab.”

Under his leadership, Punjab was strong, united, and respected. The British East India

Company, which had already swallowed large parts of India, kept a cautious distance. They

knew the Sikh army was no ordinary force — it was modern, well-trained, and fiercely loyal

to its Maharaja.

But as history often shows, the fate of kingdoms can change in the blink of an eye.

In 1839, Maharaja Ranjit Singh passed away. His death was like removing the keystone from

members fought for influence, and the army, once disciplined, became restless and

Meanwhile, across the Sutlej River, the British East India Company watched like a hawk.

They had already expanded deep into India and now eyed Punjab — the last major

independent kingdom in the north.

The British had stationed their forces along the Sutlej, officially to “protect” their territories,

Singh, agreeing not to cross the Sutlej into Punjab. But after his death, they began

strengthening their military presence near the border, sensing an opportunity.

Inside Punjab, the Khalsa army had grown in size and power. Soldiers were proud but also

restless. Without a strong ruler to guide them, they began interfering in politics, sometimes

believed that a show of strength — even war — might unite the kingdom again.

By late 1845, tensions had reached boiling point. The British had moved more troops to the

frontier, building bridges and fortifications. To the Sikhs, this looked like preparation for

invasion.

In December 1845, parts of the Khalsa army crossed the Sutlej River into British territory.

Whether this was a calculated decision by the Sikh leadership or the result of pressure from

the army is still debated by historians. But to the British, it was the perfect excuse — they

declared war.

courage of both armies.

The British eventually emerged victorious, but it was no easy win. The war ended with the

accept a British Resident in Lahore — a clear sign that independence was slipping away.

The First Anglo-Sikh War wasn’t just about two armies clashing. It was about how internal

weakness can invite external threats, how mistrust can turn neighbors into enemies, and

how the fate of a nation can hinge on a few critical decisions.

For Punjab, it marked the beginning of the end of its sovereignty. For the British, it was

another step in their march toward controlling the entire subcontinent.

But here’s the twist — instead of handing Punjab over to a single governor, the British tried

tasked with running this vast, newly conquered land.

Think of it like a three-headed captain steering one ship:

Montgomery)2.

Their mission? To bring order to a land still brimming with pride, resentment, and unrest.

Punjab in 1849 was no easy posting. The Khalsa army had been disbanded, but weapons

were everywhere. Aristocrats were bitter about losing power. Villages were restless. Law

Justice under the Sikh Darbar had been a mix of custom, religion, and royal decree. The

• Civil and criminal cases were handled at district and tehsil levels.

• British legal principles were blended with local customs to make the system more

acceptable to the people.

This gave Punjab, for the first time, a uniform judicial framework.

In just four years (1849–1853), the Board of Administration managed to:

Raj.

Of course, not everything was perfect. The Board’s reforms were designed to serve British

interests first — securing revenue, ensuring loyalty, and preventing uprisings. Many Punjabis

saw them as foreign rulers tightening their grip. Yet, even critics admit that the Board’s

efficiency and organisation were remarkable for the time.

By 1853, the Board was dissolved, and John Lawrence became the sole Chief Commissioner.

But the foundations laid in those four years shaped Punjab’s governance for decades.

The British quickly realised that Punjab’s greatest treasure wasn’t gold or gems — it was

land, but much of their bounty was untapped.

brought under cultivation by diverting river water through engineered channels.

into green fields.

major exporter.

The movement’s objectives were both spiritual and practical:

religious instruction.

educate the masses.

As the movement grew, it developed two main centres:

confrontation with other faiths.

modern education, and a clear assertion that Sikhs were a distinct community, not a

sect of Hinduism.

This healthy diversity of approach allowed the movement to appeal to both conservative

and progressive Sikhs.

• Produced accessible translations and commentaries on Sikh scriptures.

• Preserved Sikh history through research and publications.

• This identity consciousness later played a role in political representation and the

to other parts of India and abroad — from Burma to East Africa to Canada. Wherever Sikhs

• Stemmed the tide of conversions out of Sikhism.

flag flutters in the breeze. Children in neat uniforms recite verses from the Guru Granth

Sahib, then switch to reading geography in Punjabi. Elders discuss the latest issue of Khalsa

Akhbar. There’s a sense of purpose in the air — a community that has looked into the mirror

That’s the legacy of the Singh Sabha Movement — not just an organisation, but a

renaissance of the Sikh spirit.

windows read “Indians and dogs not allowed”. Immigration laws are stacked against them.

They are treated as outsiders in a land they help build.

troubles. They realise that the discrimination they face abroad is tied to the fact that their

homeland is under British rule. And slowly, a dangerous idea takes root: If India were free,

In 1913, in a meeting at Astoria, Oregon, and later in San Francisco, a group of expatriate

published a fiery weekly newspaper called Ghadar, printed in Urdu and Gurmukhi, carrying

The planned February 1915 uprising fizzled out before it began. Leaders were hunted down.

— the diaspora could be a powerful force.

were under the control of mahants (custodians) who often lived lavishly, misused offerings,

and allowed practices contrary to Sikh tenets, such as idol worship. Many of these mahants

But winds of change were blowing. Inspired by the Singh Sabha reform spirit and the rising

tide of Indian nationalism, Sikhs began demanding that their places of worship be returned

to the Panth (the Sikh community) and managed according to the teachings of the Gurus.

It began with a symbolic but powerful act. The British Deputy Commissioner of Amritsar

authority.

The Akalis launched a peaceful protest. Baba Kharak Singh, then SGPC president, refused to

unrest, returned the keys in January 1922.

colonial government yield.

Nankana Sahib, the birthplace of Guru Nanak, was under Mahant Narain Das, notorious for

immoral behaviour and corruption. When reformers announced they would take control,

the moral bankruptcy of corrupt mahants.

Near Amritsar, the SGPC-managed Guru-ka-Bagh gurdwara had land cultivated by Sikhs. The

mahant, backed by the British, denied them access.

When Akalis tried to work the land, they were arrested. Day after day, peaceful volunteers

walked forward, only to be beaten mercilessly by police with lathis. The discipline was

extraordinary — no retaliation, only hymns on their lips.

The protest drew national attention; even British journalists condemned the brutality.

Eventually, the government relented.

growing clout.

mahant control.

Guru Granth Sahib.

freedom movement.

Picture a column of Akali volunteers in blue robes and saffron turbans, walking calmly

towards a line of armed police. In their hands — not weapons, but the Nishan Sahib (Sikh

flag). In their hearts — the words of the Gurus. They know they may be beaten, jailed, even

killed. But they also know that every step they take is reclaiming not just bricks and mortar,

but the soul of their community.

That is the story of the Gurdwara Reform Morchas — a saga where faith met fearlessness,

allowing detention without trial — has already convinced many that the colonial

government has no intention of granting justice.

Punjab, once called the “sword arm” of the British Empire for its loyalty during wars, now

simmers with resentment. Farmers, students, shopkeepers, and religious leaders are all

asking the same question: If peaceful petitions bring only bullets, what next?

revolutionary:

• Boycott British goods, schools, courts, and titles.

• Refuse to pay certain taxes.

with Non-Cooperation.

urban centres like Lahore, Amritsar, and Jalandhar.

to British approval.

became common, often accompanied by patriotic songs.