The Sikhs' principled adherence to racial and religious tolerance was cited recently by Tony Blair when he addressed a Sikh conference in Birmingham following the racist and homophobic nail-bombing attacks in London. He chose his moment well. The religion is this year celebrating its half-millennium, its 500-year survival being marked not only in Amristar and Lahore, but in towns and cities throughout the world. Dublin is now part of the diaspora and has its own Sikh mosque at Clonskea. Earlier this year the Prince of Wales, opening an exhibition of Sikh art in London, spoke of the distinguished military contribution made by Sikhs to the British army this century. It was a reminder of another facet of Sikh history. He might also have mentioned the Sikhs' bitter and uneven struggle against the British army during most of the last century or the appalling massacre of Sikh dissidents at Jallianwala Bagh, a market place in Amristar, carried out at the command of Brig-Gen R.E.H. Dyer on April 13th, 1919. (Interestingly, Dyer had dropped out of Dublin's College of Surgeons some years before because of a distaste for the sight of blood).
Alternatively Prince Charles might have mentioned that his uncle, Lord Mountbatten, ignoring advisers in his haste to be shut of the Indian problem, in 1947 abandoned 40 per cent of the Sikh population to the new Muslim state of Pakistan and to the inevitable genocidal slaughter that followed.
Ironically, Sikhism was conceived by its founders as an attempt to reconcile the two warring religious populations of northern India. It was a spiritual response to the turbulence of 15th century Muslim-ruled Hindustan. The word "sikh" evolved from the Sanskrit word for "disciple". There is no Hindu : There is no Mussalman (Muslim) the founder, Guru Nanak, wrote in the late 1400s. However, his call for a new allegiance based on tolerance and equality were seen as a threat to Hindus and "Mussalmen" alike - and more particularly, to the Brahmin social class which had successfully stamped both religions with its caste ideology. Since the end of the 17th century, when the and last guru, Gobind Singh, created the brotherhood of Sikhs known as the Khalsa, Sikhism has not been seen as a reform movement compatible with adherence to other faiths, but a third religion ready to defend its existence by the sword if necessary. The disciples have borne the title Singh or lion, and out of respect for their God-given nature, banned the cutting of hair or beards - a practice that led in time to the wearing of the distinctive turban.
In the words of Sikh historian Patwant Singh, religion is the ordering mechanism of Indian society. And within that mechanism the Brahmins - originally the priestly class of an invading Aryan race - have played a controlling role in the sub-continent for more than 2,000 years. Their sometimes overt, sometimes behind-the-scenes influence has been a feature of Hindu, Mogul, British and even independent rule, defying many stabs at reforming legislation.
The extremes of the Brahmin caste system are well-known: in some regions the untouchables were kept indoors during the day for fear their shadows might fall on the highborn. In most regions it was enough that they keep a distance of 50 to 100 paces between themselves and their betters. Even today they are so despised and abused that low-caste peasant women in the state of Bihar have started carrying guns for their protection.
By contrast to the Brahmins, the monotheistic Sikhs espoused good deeds rather than birth as the path towards nobility and advocated private prayer rather than outer ritual. To Nanak - as to his European contemporary, Martin Luther - God was an amalgam of truth, integrity, courage and enlightened thinking, Patwant writes. As early as the end of the 16th century the Sikhs had begun work on the Golden Temple at Amristar, the focus of their faith and the shrine for Granth Sahib, the sacred writings of the early gurus. The magnificent temple, with its four entrances signifying openness to the four traditional castes, has repeatedly been the object of attack by hostile armies, many of them Brahmin-inspired.
The most recent violation was in 1984 when Indira Gandhi sent in troops to end a minority Sikh separatist campaign aimed at achieving independence for the Punjabi state. It was an ill-conceived move that was to lead within months to her own death at the hands of two Sikh guards and, arising from her assassination, to a bloody spate of reprisal killings of Sikh civilians unconnected with separatism, mainly in New Delhi. Patwant Singh's account of the Sikhs is unashamedly partisan and passionate, but scholarly and well worth the challenge. A light from an unusual angle, it illuminates more than its immediate subject area and casts some interesting shadows as well.
Declan Burke-Kennedy is an Assistant Foreign Desk Editor with The Irish Times