This past week marked the passing of the 175th anniversary of what I would probably classify as one of the most pivotal events in Sikh history — the Battle of Sobraon. This bloody clash, between the Khalsa Army and the forces of the East India Company, marked the end of the first Anglo-Sikh war, and the effective symbolic end of the sovereign Sikh kingdom realized by Maharaja Ranjit Singh. I’d like to first argue something unique about our perception of Sobraon - of it as a tragedy. Arguably, the entire Anglo-Sikh war was, as it was less a war that arose from natural hostilities or the Sikhs wishing to defend themselves from British expansion, and more of an engineered effort by both sides pulling the strings.
Also - for anyone interested in reading more about the first Anglo Sikh War and its battles, including Sobraon, the golden standard that I would recommend is Amarpal Singh Sidhu's phenomenal book, from which I’ve sourced much of this information)
Backdrop to the First Anglo-Sikh War
Decades of instability had created a major power imbalance between the rapidly expanding and ambitious Khalsa Army led directly by its soldiers, and the more conservative elites and nobles of the court who were interested in expanding their personal ambitions. The army was an uncontrollable force that elites were fearful of — elites who attracted the ire of the collective soldiers and were declared guilty of moral transgressions in the army’s Sarbat Khalsa were often immediately killed off regardless of their position or prestige.
Several members of this court recognized that the increasing territorial ambitions of their British neighbors might be a a useful tool not only to distract the Khalsa army, but to permanently weaken it so as to prevent it from swallowing up more of Lahore’s elites and nobles. The Khalsa army was eager and quite capable to go against a powerful foe, so it was as important for elites of the Lahore Darbar to intentionally design the war effort for failure. This was done primarily via the strategies taken by Lal Singh & Tej Singh, commanders of the army, by intentionally hampering their army’s movements, preventing strategic victories, and keeping British commanders in the loop as to their movements so that they would be able to predict them and fend off capably. The soldiers managed to subvert this to some extent even with their commanders working against them, but the prelude to Sobraon really exemplifies how the cards were impossibly stacked against them for a victory.
The Prelude to the Battle
After a long, weary, and bloody campaign, starved and exhausted soldiers on the main front were starting to wear thin from lack of basic supplies. The supply-line from Lahore, including rations as well as munitions was controlled by Gulab Singh Dogra, who was a major elite suspected by the army of treachery and collusion with the British. The army sent representatives to Lahore to voice the soldiers’ complaints directly to Rani Jindan Kaur, one of the few elites who was still a respected figure among army circles along with her son Duleep Singh, who was revered as the symbolic Maharaja and legitimate successor to Duleep Singh. Dispelling claims of treachery, Jind Kaur was adamant to the soldiers that Gulab Singh was to be trusted, all the supplies were coming in, and that the war effort was fully supported.
As the soldiers went back-and-forth with the queen, she suddenly went quiet and then went for a burst of dramatic flair. Taking off her veil, she threw it at the soldiers, and called them cowards saying that if they would not fight she would don arms and go fight herself. At this juncture, the inspired soldiers are said to roared approvingly that they would fight fiercely in the name of Maharaja Duleep Singh and the Khalsa (as depicted in the illustration below).
However, it’s worth noting that the soldiers’ concerns WERE valid - Gulab Singh was indeed purposefully withdrawing supplies to the soldiers as part of the the setup for the battle alongside Lal & Tej Singh that would make any amount of courageous fighting futile. This would be seen not only in how the soldiers didn’t receive adequate rations, but how gunners in battle would notice that some of the munitions sent by Gulab Singh were intentionally defective. So what to make of the above? It is theorized by many that Jind Kaur was among the cadre of elites in the Lahore Darbar, - alongside Lal, Tej, and Gulab - who had a vested interest in destroying the Khalsa army to secure her own political aims. In this light, this vivid scene perhaps reads less as a spark of inspiration, and more as a calculated betrayal by the one figure not at all suspected by the soldiers, Jind Kaur, to send them into their certain doom.
This becomes even more interesting when the role of Sham Singh Attariwala comes into play. A seasoned veteran who served under Ranjit Singh, Attariwala was wary of the army’s zeal for going into war with the British and disapproved of the Anglo-Sikh war from the onset. Yet a convoy by Jind Kaur who appealed for him to join the troops at Sobraon is what convinced him to leave his home to join the troops. Telling his wife he would certainly not return and to arrange his funeral rites, he set off for Sobraon to join his fellow soldiers. An optimistic reading may suggest that Jind Kaur asked for Attariwala’s aid to help boost soldier morale - whereas a cynical one suggests maybe she saw it as an opportunity to remove a potential thorn in her side, as someone beloved by the army that she [possibly] sought to weaken.
“Penned Up Like Sheep for Slaughter”
As Lal Singh & Tej Singh prepared for battle, they ensured that all the encampments would be to the British army’s liking, purposefully choosing overly defensive position at vulnerable points. Lal Singh provided a map of these encampments to the Company’s commanders as well. This was not lost to many soldiers, who were seen shouting at and even physically shoving their duplicitous generals in anger at what they had seen (it’s worth noting here that several times throughout the war, Akali-Nihangs and individual soldiers had made several assassination attempts on Lal & Tej). A particularly powerful quote of soldiers addressing their generals is recorded as such:
“We know that you have leagued with the court to send us against the British and to pen us up here like sheep for them to come and slaughter us at their convenience; but remember, that in thus acting, you play the part not only of traitors to your country, but of ruthless butchers and murderers. You destroy a whole army, which, whatever its faults and crimes may have been, has always been ready to obey the orders of the state and its officers.”
The implication here is powerful — it suggests that many soldiers, far from being naive bystanders unaware of what was to hit them, were in fact sharply aware and witness to the tragedy they were taking part in. As such, the battle commenced and was fought fiercely. The artillery (even with faulty munitions provided by Gulab Singh) fired, the cavalry made their charges into volleys of enemy gunfire, and the infantry fought brutally, taking no prisoners.
However, it was at this point that Tej Singh took the step that would seal the fate of their troops by suddenly fleeing from battle. In is flight, he took care to sabotage the bridge to prevent troops from retreating in the same direction, leaving thousands trapped with compromised encampments now swarmed by British forces and a compromised bridge. Thousands of Sikh troops, uncertain of what to do, climbed on the bridge, which broke and led them to fall into the rapids below where British and sepoy guns were trained on them and primed to fire.
And fire they did - the British troops and sepoys were told to show no mercy with cannon fire, and shoot all Sikhs they saw either swimming for safety or trapped on the banks. In the words of a British soldier, Arthur Hardinge:
“The river seemed alive with a struggling mass of men. The artillery now brought down to the water’s edge, completed the slaughter. Few escaped; none, it may be said, surrendered.”
This is where a large bulk of the battle’s casualties came from, and fulfilled the Lahore Darbar’s and generals’ intent of not just a military defeat for the Khalsa, but a massacre of the troops and a permanent dent in the power of the army.
Victory in Tragedy
The meaning of the defeat at Sobraon was enormous, with the end of the reign of the Khalsa army and the beginning of a British presence in the Sikh kingdom (which would hardly be independent from this point moving forward). The British were welcomed into Lahore by Jindan Kaur, Gulab Singh Dogra, Lal Singh, Tej Singh, and other members of the Darbar. The trap for the Khalsa army had been sprung by the very design of the war, the compromised encampments of Sobraon, and the sabotage of the bridge — and it was executed by the ruthless firing into the rivers.
It would say that this indeed has all the makings of a tragedy like I prefaced with saying. Yet I’d like to look at another angle — that of the individual soldiers and their motivations prior to the battle. I intentionally omitted the last lines in the quote above of what Sikh soldiers told their treacherous commanders prior to battle, but I’ve reproduced it in full here (with those omitted lines now bolded):
“We know that you have leagued with the court to send us against the British and to pen us up here like sheep for them to come and slaughter us at their convenience; but remember, that in thus acting, you play the part not only of traitors to your country, but of ruthless butchers and murderers. You destroy a whole army, which, whatever its faults and crimes may have been, has always been ready to obey the orders of the state and its officers. We might even now punish you as you deserve, but we will leave you to answer to your Gooroo and your God while we, deserted and betrayed as we are, will do what we can to preserve the independence of our country.”
This line stuck out to me as an extremely powerful one when I read it. It reveals that not only were many soldiers well aware of the precarious circumstances they were in, but that they willingly chose to fight in it anyway out of desire to see it through to the end. Perhaps Jindan Kaur’s bold proclamation struck a chord with some soldiers who thought that refusing to join even an unfair fight would be unbefitting and cowardly for the Khalsa, just like those here who were witness to their generals’ treacherous manipulations yet braced themselves for battle (and slaughter) accordingly.
One of the most poetic examples of this mentality comes in with the grizzled general Sham Singh Attariwala and how he handled the battle. From how he prepared for his death when he left his village, it seems as if he was aware that this battle was destined to be his last. It’s noted that throughout the day on February 10th of 1846, he was constantly encouraging troops to fight to their dying breath over turning their backs. When the position he was guarding seemed like it was destined to come into British hands, he rallied his men and led a final cavalry charge on his fateful horse, Shah Kabutar (the name amusingly means “King Pigeon”). This charge was right into soldiers armed with muskets, who responded with gunfire in kind killing all those involved including the general, who was found with several bullet wounds. In doing so, dressed in all white as if resembling a man who had already become a ghost, Sham Singh perhaps best exemplified the Sikh psyche seen in so many individuals that passed that fateful day, a legacy that transcends the tragedy of the battle itself — that death is nothing to someone who is willing to face it head-on.
Never knew this side of history.
Thank you for opening the back door of history (when I wasn't even aware where the front one is).
Great read. Thank you.