
The upset in Sangrur: numbers, mood, and what changed
Simranjit Singh Mann, the 77-year-old chief of Shiromani Akali Dal (Amritsar) and a former IPS officer, pulled off one of 2022’s biggest political surprises by winning the Sangrur Lok Sabha by-election. He edged past Aam Aadmi Party’s Gurmail Singh by 5,822 votes—2,53,154 to 2,47,332—snapping a seat AAP had counted as safe after its sweeping assembly win just three months earlier.
The context makes the result sting for AAP. Punjab had handed the party 92 of 117 assembly seats in March 2022, and Sangrur was the parliamentary pocket borough of Bhagwant Mann, who vacated it after becoming chief minister. He had won the seat in 2014 and 2019. The bypoll, held on June 23, 2022, was supposed to be routine consolidation. Instead, it became the first electoral jolt of AAP’s term.
Turnout tells a big part of the story. Only 45.30 percent of eligible voters cast their ballots—about 7.10 lakh out of 15.69 lakh—compared with 72.44 percent in the 2019 Lok Sabha election and 76.71 percent in 2014. AAP quickly pointed to the low participation as a prime reason for the upset. Whatever the reasons—by-election fatigue, mid-season apathy, or a lack of urgency—the party’s urban and youth-heavy support just didn’t show up in sufficient numbers.
Mann’s camp, meanwhile, had energy on its side. His organization, while smaller than the traditional Akali structure or AAP’s new machine, is tight and motivated. It drew on a mix of long-standing ideological appeal among hardline Sikh voters and fresh anger over law and order. The shock killing of Punjabi singer Sidhu Moosewala just weeks before the vote became a lightning rod. In public meetings and private conversations, voters repeatedly raised safety, policing, and whether the new government had enough control on the ground.
Identity and symbolism mattered. Mann’s political brand—rooted in Sikh rights, a sharper federalism pitch, and a controversial pro-Khalistan image—didn’t appeal to everyone, but it was potent for a crucial slice of the electorate. His association with the late actor-activist Deep Sidhu energized that base. In his victory remarks, Mann dedicated the win to the people of Sangrur, Deep Sidhu, and Sidhu Moosewala, saying they had “given their blood for the Sikh community.” That message, however polarizing, helped frame the race on his terms.
The field was crowded, and fragmentation helped Mann. Congress’s Dalvir Singh Goldy finished third with 78,844 votes. The BJP’s Kewal Dhillon trailed with 66,171. The Shiromani Akali Dal (Badal) backed Kamaldeep Kaur Rajoana, who ended with fewer than 50,000. When multiple parties try to court the same pool of religious or regional identity voters, they often cancel each other out. Here, the split among Akali factions and opposition parties left Mann with the cleanest lane.
- Mann (SAD-Amritsar): 2,53,154
- Gurmail Singh (AAP): 2,47,332
- Dalvir Singh Goldy (Congress): 78,844
- Kewal Dhillon (BJP): 66,171
- Kamaldeep Kaur Rajoana (SAD): under 50,000
What makes Sangrur different from a standard midterm protest vote? The constituency sits in the Malwa belt, where political moods can shift fast but also set statewide narratives. AAP’s spring surge raised expectations on jobs, law enforcement, and services. By June, impatient voters were already measuring promises against delivery. That’s not unusual—new governments often encounter their first reality check in bypolls—but the scale of AAP’s earlier win made the check feel larger.
Campaign issues kept circling back to two themes: security and respect. Security, because of high-profile crime and the broader debate over policing. Respect, because many Sikh voters weigh how power centers in Delhi and Chandigarh treat Punjab’s identity and interests. Mann’s rhetoric spoke directly to that second theme. For some voters, it was a statement vote; for others, a warning flare to the state government. Either way, it was unmistakably a message.
Turnout patterns also matter for how the result is read. Low participation tends to reward highly motivated cadres and issue-driven voters. In a general election with 70-plus percent turnout, the arithmetic can look very different. That’s why both Mann’s supporters and AAP’s leadership will interpret the result carefully: one side sees proof of persistent ideological strength; the other sees a tactical miss in getting supporters to the booths.
Politically, the bypoll exposed AAP’s vulnerabilities: candidate selection beyond star constituencies, ward-level organization outside assembly cycles, and narrative control when law and order dominates headlines. The party’s core promise—clean governance with tight delivery—faces its hardest tests early, before new systems bed in. In Sangrur, the lag between intent and impact created a narrow opening. Mann took it.
For the opposition, the map remains messy. Congress is still stitching together a credible counter in Punjab. The SAD (Badal) is rebuilding after two difficult cycles. The BJP is expanding but without the legacy networks that used to come via allies. In that flux, smaller but disciplined outfits can punch above their weight in bypolls. Sangrur showed what that looks like in practice.
Who is Simranjit Singh Mann?
Mann’s public life has been defined by sharp turns and stubborn consistency. A former Indian Police Service officer, he left the service decades ago and moved into full-time politics. He heads SAD (Amritsar), a breakaway Akali formation that leans hard on Sikh rights, robust federalism, and a more confrontational tone with New Delhi than the mainstream Akali Dal. His supporters see him as uncompromising; critics call him polarizing.
He has now won the Lok Sabha seat three times: from Taran Tarn in 1989, and from Sangrur in 1999 and 2022. That timeline captures both his persistence and the cyclical nature of Punjab politics. He has also faced frequent run-ins with the law—detained or arrested nearly 30 times on various charges, including sedition—yet has not been convicted in any of those cases. Those brushes with the state have, for his base, burnished an image of defiance.
On the stump, Mann blends identity politics with local grievance. He talks about justice for Sikhs, Punjabi dignity, and a federated India where states have more room to decide their economic and cultural path. He can be an uncomfortable presence for centrists, and he doesn’t try to sand down the edges. In Sangrur, that authenticity likely helped: voters knew exactly what he stood for.
His 2022 campaign benefited from social currents that moved fast. The shock after Moosewala’s murder created a sense of insecurity that overshadowed routine infrastructure or welfare debates. Mann’s association with Deep Sidhu—who, before his death, had become a face of a younger, more assertive Sikh activism—kept the ideological energy high. When he dedicated his victory to Sidhu and Moosewala, he was confirming what everyone had watched during the campaign.
The win does not mean Sangrur has dramatically shifted to one permanent camp. Voters there have swung before, and they tend to reward the side that persuades and performs in the moment. The result does, however, remind parties that the combination of low turnout and a sharp message can upend carefully laid plans. It also underscores that regional identity remains a powerful variable in Punjab’s electoral math.
What happens next? AAP will likely double down on policing, signal faster delivery on jobs and local services, and try to re-energize its ground cadres ahead of bigger battles. Mann now has to translate a symbolic win into constituency work: roads, schools, safety nets, and a clear voice in Parliament. Sangrur’s voters have shown they are perfectly willing to move their vote if they feel ignored. That’s the real pressure point for everyone.
For now, the Sangrur by-election stands as a case study in how quickly momentum can shift in Punjab. One narrow margin, a steep turnout drop, a focused ideological pitch—when those three align, even a ruling party riding high can get knocked off balance.
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