In the world of politics, accountability often seems like a far-off mirage. Power corrupts, and impunity, as enjoyed by a serving governor, seals the deal. Rarely does the nation witness politicians paying a price for their actions — be it under colonial relics like the Indian Penal Code or the shiny new legal framework titled the Bharatiya Nyay Samhita. However, in an extraordinary twist, Amritsar in Punjab bore witness to a kind of justice last Tuesday that no politician could escape: the moral reckoning enforced by the Akal Takht, the supreme temporal authority of the Sikhs.
Sukhbir Singh Badal, once Deputy Chief Minister and the face of Punjab’s political aristocracy, found himself at the receiving end of this reckoning. The Akal Takht declared him a Tankhaiya (transgressor) and sentenced him to a very public and humbling, if not humiliating, punishment. For the next ten days, Badal will stand outside five specified gurdwaras dressed as a sewadar, scrubbing utensils and washing toilets for two hours each. Adding insult to injury, he must wear a plaque advertising his penance — a curious twist on the classic “kick me” sign. The charges against Badal are grave. During his tenure from 2007 to 2017, he allegedly showed undue leniency to Gurmeet Ram Rahim, the controversial Dera Sacha Sauda chief, whose actions sparked clashes in Punjab and Haryana. As if that weren’t enough, the appointment of Sumedh Singh Saini — a man infamous for human rights abuses during Punjab’s militancy era — as police chief further tarnished the Akali Dal’s credibility.
The judgment wasn’t limited to the living. In a posthumous blow, Sukhbir Badal’s father and former Chief Minister, Parkash Singh Badal, was stripped of the honorific Fakhar-e-Qaum (Pride of the Community). One wonders about the logic of punishing the deceased, though it serves as a stark reminder that legacy, too, can be a casualty of moral scrutiny. Critics argue the spectacle is just that — a spectacle. After all, scrubbing toilets hardly compensates for years of systemic failures and abuses. But symbolism matters. In a nation where politicians brazenly flout laws, the sight of Badal donning a sewadar’s garb sends a strong message: even the powerful must answer to a higher authority, be it religious, public, or karmic. As Sukhbir Singh Badal and Co polish utensils, he will, perhaps, reflect on his tarnished legacy. For the rest of the nation, it’s a timely reminder: no loophole can protect against the court of conscience or public opinion.
