THE MAN WHO HIJACKED A FAITH: INSIDE GURPATWANT SINGH PANNUN’S KHALISTANI WAR ON INDIA

In the heart of New York City, a man in a suit walks confidently between courtrooms and camera lenses. He speaks the language of international law and claims to represent human rights. But in India, Gurpatwant Singh Pannun is a name synonymous with digital extremism, separatist propaganda, and psychological warfare. To many, he is a man who hijacked a faith to wage a war not just on a country, but on truth itself.

A U.S. citizen of Indian origin, Pannun has emerged as the most vocal face of the Khalistani separatist movement from abroad. He is the founder of Sikhs for Justice (SFJ), an outfit banned in India and accused of using legal activism as a cover for anti-India propaganda and incitement to violence. Indian intelligence agencies regard him as a key asset in a transnational disinformation network, one allegedly bolstered by covert Pakistani support.

Born in 1967 in Khankot village near Amritsar, Punjab, Pannun pursued early studies at Guru Nanak Dev University before moving to the United States in the 1990s. He later obtained a law degree from Touro Law Center in New York and became a practicing attorney. But instead of representing clients, Pannun began representing a cause—the creation of Khalistan, a separate Sikh state carved out of India.

In 2007, Pannun founded Sikhs for Justice, initially described as a human rights advocacy group. Over time, SFJ's focus shifted sharply toward separatism, with Pannun at the helm of provocative campaigns including the so-called "Referendum 2020," a non-binding global vote that drew little traction.

Pannun’s digital content has since crossed into open incitement. His videos, circulated widely on Telegram and YouTube, have included calls to attack Indian embassies, disrupt Air India operations, and even target the Indian Parliament. In recent years, he has declared Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi a "legitimate target" and urged diaspora Sikhs to engage in acts of sabotage against Indian interests.

Despite these threats, Pannun has not visited India in over two decades. His operations are orchestrated from abroad, shielded by Western legal protections and digital platforms.

In 2020, the Government of India designated Pannun a terrorist under the Unlawful Activities (Prevention) Act. As of mid-2025, 22 FIRs have been registered against him across India. The National Investigation Agency (NIA) has carried out over 100 raids linked to SFJ operatives, and an Interpol Red Corner Notice remains pending.

While the U.S. and Canada have not yet designated Pannun a terrorist, citing domestic free speech laws, both governments are reported to be monitoring his activities closely.

Pannun's primary weapon is not firearms, but narratives. By invoking historical wounds like the 1984 anti-Sikh riots and selectively amplifying community grievances, he attempts to radicalize the diaspora. His rhetoric has evolved into a dangerous cocktail of myth, anger, and incitement, far removed from the lived realities and aspirations of Sikhs in India.

SFJ-linked operatives have been associated with acts of vandalism against Hindu temples in Canada, Australia, and the UK. In 2023, a group attempted to breach the Indian High Commission in London. Gurdwaras in parts of Canada have also been reportedly taken over by factions aligned with SFJ's ideology.

Back in India, the group’s influence remains marginal. Pannun’s calls for rebellion routinely fall flat. Pro-Khalistan events abroad often feature negligible participation from Indian Sikhs, underlining the disconnect between his agenda and ground reality.

Religious leaders, scholars, Sikh veterans, and the broader community in Punjab have consistently rejected SFJ's divisive rhetoric. Sikh soldiers continue to serve in the Indian Army with distinction. Sikh youth are building futures in civil services, research, and entrepreneurship, grounded in values of unity and progress.

What makes Pannun dangerous is not his distance, but his reach. He exploits grievance to sow alienation. His mission is not simply political separation—it is identity fragmentation. Through persistent digital messaging, he aims to convince a global audience that Sikh identity is inherently incompatible with the Indian state. But his message finds little resonance among those who live, work, and serve in India every day.

From his foreign base, he issues ultimatums and threats. Yet it is ordinary Indians—Sikhs included—who must bear the social tension and diplomatic strain that follows.

Gurpatwant Singh Pannun may claim to speak for an entire community. But it is increasingly clear that his voice echoes only in self-constructed chambers of extremism. His narrative does not reflect the sentiments of Sikhs in India, who continue to uphold peace, democracy, and pluralism.

In the end, his is not a movement of liberation, but a performance of disruption. And behind the slogans, what remains is a man far removed from the people he professes to represent.