“The campaign by the Sikh communities to maintain inappropriate customs in Britain is very unfortunate. Working in Britain, especially in the public services, they must be prepared to accept the terms and conditions of their employment. Claiming special communal rights… leads to a dangerous fragmentation within society. This communalism is a wicked disease, whether practiced by one color or another, it must be strongly condemned.”
Enoch Powell quoted these words from Labor minister John Stonehouse in his 1968 Rivers of Blood speech. At the time, Powell was MP for Wolverhampton South West, where a row over Sikh bus drivers wearing turbans had made international headlines. The dispute began in 1967 when Tarsem Singh Sandhu, a Wolverhampton bus driver, was fired for refusing to remove his turban. His sacking prompted a two-year campaign by Britain’s Sikh community for the right to wear turbans while working on public buses.
The campaign eventually succeeded, marking an important moment in the accommodation of religious identity within British public life. In the early post-war years, many Sikhs had felt compelled to abandon their turbans and beards in order to secure employment. By the late 1960s, a larger and more organized community was increasingly ready to assert its place in British society without giving up its religious identity. Their successful campaign marked an early example of Britain’s growing willingness to accommodate religious differences, reflecting a developing commitment to multiculturalism that would only strengthen in the decades that followed.
Yet more than half a century later, Britain is having the same debate. Nigel Farage recently claimed that the rights of white people are less important than those of ethnic minorities. The tragic murder of Henry Nowak by Vickrum Digwa has become the latest flashpoint, despite the clear wishes of Henry’s family. Nowak was stabbed five times by Digwa, who falsely claimed he had been racially abused. Police chose to believe Digwa and placed Nowak in handcuffs, despite him telling officers he had been stabbed and couldn’t breathe. The killing has rightly sparked outrage across Britain.
Speaking outside court last week, Henry’s father, Mark Nowak, urged against the politicization of his son’s death. “We do not want his death to be used to create further division, hatred or tension,” he said. “This is not a case of Sikhism. This is not a case of racism. This is a case of murder.”
Reform has done this for Sikhism anyway, vowing to ban the kirpan, the Sikh ceremonial knife. The Kirpan is a blade carried by Amritdhari Sikhs (baptized Sikhs who make up a minority of Sikhs) as part of the five K’s, which also include kesh (uncut hair), kangha (a wooden comb), kara (an iron or steel ring) and kachera (a specific type of inner garment).
More importantly, Vickrum Digwa did not kill Henry Nowak with a kirpan, but with a second, much larger blade. As we now know, he was a man obsessed with weapons and violence. But despite these facts, the British Sikh community as a whole is being tried for a crime they did not commit, with their religious freedoms being called into question.
The argument raised by critics is that no group should enjoy special exemptions from laws governing bladed articles. However, British law has long recognized that context matters. A chef may carry knives for work. A dealer may carry tools containing blades. A farmer or hunter may legally possess a firearm. A Scotsman wearing a kilt may carry a sgian-dubh (a small knife) in his stocking as part of cultural dress.
The kirpan exemption lies within the same legal tradition. Section 139 of the Criminal Justice Act 1988, reinforced by the Offensive Weapons Act 2019, allows Sikhs to wear a kirpan for religious reasons.
While many European countries such as France enforce strict secular laws banning the kirpan, Britain is relatively exceptional in protecting religious freedoms. Given this country’s long and often painful history of religious persecution, from the discrimination faced by Catholics and Protestants at various times to the centuries-old restrictions placed on Jews, this commitment to religious freedom should be considered one of Britain’s strengths rather than a weakness.
And instead of fostering a sense of collective identity and cohesion, France’s hardline approach has alienated religious minorities. There are many valid criticisms to be made of British multiculturalism, and more can and should be done to tackle racial division and tensions between communities, but clamping down on religious freedoms does nothing to build trust between them. It will only damage the cohesion further. This is not about favoring one community over another. The consequences of using a kirpan, kitchen knife or any other object as a weapon do not depend on a person’s religion, ethnicity or background. They depend on their actions and intentions. The purpose of carrying a kirpan is religious in nature. For observant Sikhs, it is an article of faith, not an instrument of violence.
Of course, there is a need to strike a balance between religious freedom and public safety. But this must be guided by the facts. There are no cases of this nature involving the kirpan in Britain, and the British Sikh community has always co-operated with the authorities where concerns have arisen. As Jas Singh, chief counsel of the Sikh Federation, told me: “When it comes to the Olympics and the courts, sensitivity and practice come into play. Baptized Sikhs having a religious exemption doesn’t stop you from getting a knife. The law is very clear. The terms around it are very clear. You’re only allowed to use it if you use it, if you use it. offensive weapon like anything else The focus should be on the police, the authorities and education about knife crime.
Singh raises an important point. Knife crime is a serious issue, but there is no evidence that religious exemptions are driving it. Young people from all backgrounds can easily obtain illegal knives through social media and other online channels and, on average, two school-age children die every month from stab wounds in England.
The Cleveland Police Area, which covers parts of the less diverse parts of the country, records the second highest rate serious knife crime in England. However, this will hardly be mentioned by right-wing commentators, who instead focus on “Sadiq Khan’s London” and implicitly link diversity with crime.
This selective framing distorts what should be a serious, evidence-based debate about knife crime, which is driven by much wider social and systemic factors than religion or ethnicity. Instead of a referendum on religious freedom, we should focus on early intervention and education to prevent violent crime.
Just as Enoch Powell’s rhetoric preceded the paki attack of the 70s and 80s, the fearmongering and sensationalism surrounding this debate has a real impact on the British Sikh community. In recent days there have been reports of racist hate crime directed against Sikhs, including attacks and people spitting on the streets.
Henry Nowak’s father Mark said he wanted his son’s story to “make our roads safer for everyone.” Prosecuting religious minorities for a crime they did not commit will achieve the exact opposite.
(Further reading: This is not what Henry Nowak’s family wanted)
