An administrative reshuffle that stems from the need for religious appeasement is never a good idea. The Punjab government seems to be all set to announce Shri Anandpur Sahib as the state’s 24th district. This announcement, expected on November 24, lines up with the 350th anniversary of Guru Tegh Bahadur’s martyrdom—the ninth Sikh Guru, whose legacy is closely tied to the area’s spiritual history.
Anandpur Sahib, now part of Rupnagar (Ropar) district, is hugely important in Sikh history as the place where Guru Gobind Singh created the Khalsa in 1699. The idea is to honour this sacred past, but it’s stirring up talks about keeping territories intact, local identities, and possible economic hiccups, especially in the nearby Hoshiarpur district.
Punjab’s districts have changed a lot since India’s independence, showing shifts in language, culture, and politics. At Partition in 1947, the state had fewer districts, but changes in the 1960s and later grew them to the current 23. The 1966 Punjab Reorganisation Act, which formed Haryana and added hilly areas to Himachal Pradesh, really shook up the borders.
Historically, Hoshiarpur lost the Una tehsil that became a district in Himachal Pradesh, making Hoshiarpur smaller and changing its population mix. Then, in the 1990s, Balachaur tehsil went to Shaheed Bhagat Singh Nagar (Nawanshahar), shrinking it again. Now, the Anandpur Sahib plan could mean a third cut, and some locals see this as an ongoing breakup that’s reducing Hoshiarpur’s old importance.
The new district would mostly come from Rupnagar, including Anandpur Sahib tehsil and parts of Nurpur Bedi and Chamkaur Sahib. But to make it workable in size and population—for better admin efficiency—the government wants to add Garhshankar tehsil from Hoshiarpur. Garhshankar, at 795 square kilometres, has key assembly seats and rural areas, so it’s a smart fit. This would leave Hoshiarpur with only four subdivisions: Hoshiarpur, Dasuya, Mukerian, and maybe a smaller area overall, cutting its total size from about 3,365 square kilometers by nearly a quarter. Critics say this could stretch resources thin, weaken political voices, and mess with local economies that depend on farming and small businesses.
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The religious reason for this is clear. Making Anandpur Sahib a district is presented as a tribute to Guru Tegh Bahadur’s sacrifice, fitting in with statewide events like tent cities for pilgrims and heritage paths. Chief Minister Bhagwant Singh Mann has promised to turn the area into a “world-class spiritual hub,” with over Rs 560 crore in investments for things like big entry gates and walkways. Supporters, including the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP), view it as a meaningful nod to Sikh feelings without huge costs, figuring a setup at around Rs 500 crore. Still, this faith-based angle has quieted wider pushback, since going against it could upset Sikh voters in a state where religion and politics often mix.
Protests have popped up, but they’re mostly local and tied to certain jobs. In Hoshiarpur, lawyers from the District Bar Association have held demos, calling the merger of villages into the new district a risk to court access and local management. Likewise, the Ropar Bar Association has struck until mid-October 2025, worried that moving the district HQ to Anandpur Sahib would hassle people in court and weaken Ropar’s admin role. These moves highlight real issues: longer trips for legal matters, potential job cuts in offices, and economic repercussions in the tehsils. But without a big public uproar, it seems folks are hesitant to fight a move that’s symbolically religious.
Political parties have mostly kept quiet or backed it, showing how touchy Sikh religious matters are in Punjab. The Aam Aadmi Party (AAP) that rules Punjab sees this as an opportunity to build a positive wave of support before elections. The BJP has brought the idea back strongly, with state leaders pressing the Chief Minister to go ahead. Opposition like the Shiromani Akali Dal (SAD) and Congress haven’t spoken out much, maybe thinking of past things like the 1973 Anandpur Sahib Resolution, which pushed for more Sikh independence and still matters for regional pride. Upsetting religious feelings could hurt politically, so there’s a kind of silent agreement.
In the midst of these issues, another idea has arisen: simply rename the current Rupnagar district to Anandpur Sahib, retaining Ropar as the headquarters. This would keep borders the same, skip taking Garhshankar, and still honour the site’s holiness. Fans say it cuts down on mess, like in other places. For example, in Haryana, the Mahendragarh district has its HQ at Narnaul, not the named town, balancing admin needs without losing the symbol. Similarly, Kangra district in Himachal Pradesh runs from Dharamshala, and that’s worked for years even though the name comes from Kangra town.
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The renaming move, instead of carving out a new district, fits well with a past pattern where districts have changed names, often to celebrate cultural, historical, or religious roots, drop colonial vibes, or match the land. Mewat in Haryana became Nuh in 2016 to highlight the town’s history. Gurgaon turned to Gurugram that year to link it to Guru Dronacharya from the Mahabharata. In Uttar Pradesh, Faizabad became Ayodhya in 2018 for its big Hindu role, and Allahabad switched to Prayagraj in 2018, going back to an old name linked to Hindu pilgrimages. Maharashtra’s Ahmednagar became Ahilyabai Holkar in 2024 to honour the 18th century Maratha queen. Punjab’s Nawanshahr changed to Shaheed Bhagat Singh Nagar in 2008 for the revolutionary Bhagat Singh. These changes show a trend toward claiming cultural identity, giving a model for Punjab’s possible change without flipping territories.
This would not only calm protesters in Ropar and Hoshiarpur, while achieve the religious goal. It’d also cut costs for new setups and stop splitting districts too much, which worries Punjab with tighter budgets for smaller areas. But the government seems headed toward a full split, maybe putting symbols over practicality.
As Punjab nears this big moment, the Anandpur Sahib District idea captures the state’s constant effort to blend its rich spiritual background with today’s governing needs. While it aims to lift a holy spot, it could push away outlying communities tired of losing land. Whether they go for creating or renaming, the choice will check the balance between policies rooted in faith and fair growth. In a varied democracy like India, these steps remind us that admin changes aren’t just map lines—they form identities, economies, and futures.
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