I often wonder why a society facing so many visible problems spends so much time talking about its past greatness. Incomes are under pressure, landholdings are shrinking, education is poor, jobs are scarce and young people want to leave. Yet much of our public conversation remains centred on how superior we are.
A few days ago, I watched Manvir Kaur’s Social Post podcast with Sirdar Anant Bir Singh Attari, a descendant of Sardar Sham Singh Attariwala. His account of historical events drawn from his family legacy was worth hearing. The comments below were not. They were full of vulgar abuse, sweeping claims and astonishing ignorance.
I see the same under interviews with scholars such as Sardar Sardara Singh Johl. People who have studied history, economics or agriculture for decades are abused by youngsters who may not have read one serious book on the subject. WhatsApp forwards and reels have become their only source of knowledge, accepted without question.
At some point, pride stops being a strength and becomes an excuse for avoiding reality. Psychologists call this collective narcissism: a group considers itself exceptional and morally superior, yet believes the whole world is conspiring against it. It wants recognition but treats every question as an insult.
This gives us a comfortable explanation for failure. We did not fall behind because we neglected education, industry, discipline or honest leadership. Others kept us down. The ego is protected and reform is postponed.
We love the glamour of history, but facts that disturb our preferred version are unwelcome. A Sikh historian known to me spent years studying lakhs of pages of historical records. I urged him to write a book or record a podcast about his findings. His reply was blunt: “Main gaalan nahin khanian. Main Akal Takht te ja ke Panth vichon chhekia nahin jaana.” He feared abuse and excommunication merely for presenting what he had found. What kind of society frightens its own historians into silence?
We increasingly see life in black and white: either you are with us or you are our enemy. Real life is mostly grey. People can disagree without becoming enemies, and a person can be right on one issue and wrong on another.
We claim to follow Guru Nanak and Guru Gobind Singh and bow before the Guru Granth Sahib, but make little effort to understand its basic message. We repeat, “Hum nahi change, bura nahi koi” (ਹਮ ਨਹੀ ਚੰਗੇ ਬੁਰਾ ਨਹੀ ਕੋਇ), asking us to look within before judging others. In practice, we have adopted the opposite position: we alone are right and everyone else is wrong.
A loud section of the younger generation knows a few names and emotional incidents picked up from videos, but not their sequence or context. They behave as if history began when they were born. Patience and courtesy are mocked as weakness. When knowledge runs out, abuse begins. This is not bravery. It is ignorance trying to look powerful.
Such people are easy to mislead. Give them an enemy, an emotional video and a selective version of history, and they are ready for battle. Political and religious leaders understand this. They do not have to prove anything. They only have to speak loudly and repeat the same story.
Popular culture adds aggression to this insecurity. The admired man is armed, feared and above the law. The teacher, researcher, entrepreneur or honest officer receives little glamour. This model of masculinity leaves no room for fear, depression or failure. Suppressed fear returns as anger, and emotional pain may find an outlet in drugs, domestic violence, reckless behaviour or gangs.
Pride alone does not cause addiction, gangsterism or political militancy. Each has deeper social, political and historical causes. But a culture that glorifies weapons, revenge and victimhood makes all three easier to sell.
Politicians know this well. A calm citizen asks about schools, hospitals, drugs, corruption and jobs. An angry citizen can be distracted by a rumour, religious controversy or manufactured threat. I once heard a senior leader say, “Je eh lok padh likh gaye taan sanu vote kaun paauga? Ehna nu galiyan-naaliyan vich hi rakho.” If people become educated, who will vote for us? Keep them occupied with streets and drains.
A flattering past can comfort a declining society, but it cannot rescue it. Learning from the past and living in it are entirely different. Living in the past prevents a society from evolving and leads to educational, social, religious and economic decline.
Recovery will begin when questioning ourselves is no longer treated as betrayal. We must read, listen, verify and admit mistakes. Otherwise, pride will achieve what no external enemy could: keep us satisfied with our image while our future quietly slips away.