Resilience in Punjab: Society’s Own Response to Crisis

When one speaks of resilience in Punjab, it is impossible to ignore how deeply ingrained it is in the cultural, religious, and social fabric of the region. Despite being a society that has faced immense political and social turbulence, including the years of armed insurgency and state repression, Punjab has time and again demonstrated an ability to bounce back from crises. This resilience is not a hollow phrase; it manifests itself on the ground when calamities strike, whether floods, breaches in embankments, or administrative breakdowns.

Society stepping up Where the State is Absent

The recent floods in Punjab once again revealed how ordinary people shoulder extraordinary responsibilities. As breaches occurred in embankments and water threatened to devastate entire villages, it was not the state machinery that responded first. It was the people themselves. Villagers rushed to sites of breaches, attempting to block the flow of water with tractors, sandbags, and whatever resources they could muster. From rescue operations to makeshift arrangements for food and shelter, communities acted collectively, even in the complete absence of formal training or institutional support.

This kind of people-led response is not a substitute for the state, but it fills a critical vacuum created by administrative inefficiency. Unlike disaster management systems elsewhere, Punjab’s resilience is not the product of state-designed drills or preparedness programs. It is born out of necessity, mistrust of the state, and the cooperative spirit that thrives in rural Punjab.

Juxtaposition with the Hills

When juxtaposed with floods in Himachal Pradesh, Uttarakhand, or Jammu, the contrast becomes stark. In those regions, even when calamities strike, the reliance is largely on state-led rescue missions, army operations, and official disaster management bodies. In Punjab, however, people rarely wait for the administration. The historical mistrust between Punjab and the Indian state plays a huge role here. Communities do not expect effective or timely support from the state; instead, they have cultivated their own mechanisms of survival and solidarity.

The Spirit of Chardhi Kala

The Sikh principle of Chardhi Kala, eternal optimism and high spirits, adds a cultural and religious dimension to this resilience. In times of distress, despair is not allowed to dominate; rather, suffering is transformed into collective action. During the floods, this spirit was visible not only in local villagers but also in the Punjabi diaspora and artists.

Figures like Diljit Dosanjh, Karan Aujla, Nimrat Khaira, Satinder Sartaj, and Amarinder Gill contributed visibly, raising awareness and resources. Their participation was not just charity—it symbolized the cultural thread of collective responsibility deeply woven into Punjabi society. Once Punjabi artists took the lead, even Bollywood stars like Shah Rukh Khan and Salman Khan stepped in with donations. This sequence reflects the global influence Punjabi culture now wields, where the initiative of local voices can prompt national attention.

This is in stark contrast to Pakistani Punjab, where celebrities have largely remained out of action during similar calamities. Barring a few, such as Hadiqa Kiani, Arif Lohar and others, most well-known figures have not even tweeted, let alone contributed significantly. One explanation may lie in class and cultural backgrounds: many famous Pakistani celebrities belong to Urdu-speaking urban elites, often disconnected from the Punjabi rural heartland. By contrast, most Indian Punjabi artists hail from villages and retain strong links to their roots.

In Pakistan, much of the charity work has instead been carried out by organizations such as Punjabi Lehar, Khalsa Aid, and the Edhi Foundation, which step into the gap left by both celebrities and state institutions. This comparison highlights how resilience manifests differently across the two Punjabs: in one, through grassroots celebrity involvement and cultural pride; in the other, through civil society organizations that compensate for elite detachment.

Because Punjabi Sikhs feel a deeper connection to their land and language, this often translates into tangible efforts to support Punjab in times of crisis. For instance, in September 2025, Red FM Canada organized a radiothon across Vancouver and Calgary, raising over $1.4 million for the Punjab Flood Relief Fund, administered by the non-profit SAF International. Such expressions of attachment are rarely seen among the Pakistani Punjabi diaspora. In Indian Punjab, it is largely the Sikh diaspora, not the central or even the state government, that plays a pivotal role in sustaining and rebuilding the state.

State Branding and Public Skepticism

Interestingly, even the Punjab government, which has often been accused of failing in its disaster management, attempted to capitalize on this resilience by naming its flood relief campaign “Mission Chardhi Kala.” Yet, such branding does little to change the reality on the ground: people perceive the state as largely absent and ineffective. For villagers who patched embankments with their own hands, slogans cannot replace genuine institutional action.

Villages versus cities

The cooperative nature of Punjabi villages (pind) is another factor that sustains this resilience. Unlike urban spaces, where individualism dominates, rural Punjab functions on close-knit networks of kinship and community. When floods threaten homes and fields, the entire village mobilizes. A sense of shared destiny creates collective responsibility. People not only save their own households but also help neighbours and even strangers. This social fabric, more intact in villages than cities, becomes the backbone of resilience during calamities. Another striking aspect of Punjab’s resilience is the way crises cut across social and political divisions. Punjab is often portrayed as fractured, outsiders versus locals, villages versus cities, or communities set against one another. Yet during calamities, these lines blur. People come together, not asking who belongs where, but simply acting to save lives and protect homes. Relief efforts are shared, food is cooked collectively, and embankments are rebuilt. In those moments, one realizes the divisions are not as deep as they are made to appear, often exaggerated by media narratives that vilify Punjab. What shines through instead is a collective spirit that prioritizes humanity over difference.

Politics of Water and Mistrust of the Centre

Underlying these crises is also the larger question of Punjab’s water politics. Many in the state believe that the Bhakra Beas Management Board (BBMB) and the Centre’s policies are responsible for their repeated suffering. The feeling that “the Centre is drowning us” adds to existing anger and mistrust. Punjab has historically been at loggerheads with the central government, whether over water distribution, electricity, or agricultural policies.

This mistrust was most visibly on display during the farmers’ protest of 2020–21, when lakhs of Punjabis camped on Delhi’s borders for months. The same distrust extends to disaster management: people do not expect timely or adequate help, and hence they do not wait. They prepare to tackle their problems themselves.

The lack of satisfaction with both state and central government responses shows that resilience in Punjab is not about faith in institutions. It is about compensating for their absence. The community’s quick mobilization is both inspiring and tragic: inspiring because of the courage and solidarity displayed, and tragic because it emerges from a void where the state should have been present.

Beyond Survival

Resilience in Punjab, therefore, is not just about survival in the face of calamity. It is also a commentary on governance, the relationship between state and society, and the cultural values that continue to hold communities together. The floods revealed once again that while Punjab may often be judged as “broken” due to its turbulent history, its people have a remarkable ability to heal wounds through collective strength.

In the end, resilience here is not taught in disaster management manuals. It is lived, practiced, and sustained through Chardhi Kala, cooperative spirit, and an unyielding mistrust that pushes society to rely on itself rather than wait for absent institutions.