THE SANTAL VILLAGE HEADMAN: A STUDY OF
LEADERSHIP AND CONTINUITY‘ IN AN EGALITARIAN
SOCIETY IN INDIA

Thesis for the Degree of Ph. D.
‘ MICHIGAN STATE UNIVERSITY
GEORGE E. SOMERS
1975‘

 

SANTA-
THE com

This theSIS

their own Ianded V

 

 

The underIyIng the?
merabIe and varyin'
Santa] way of life
who is recognized
father) and the DC
this basicaIIy ege

pares, emerges as

nuIty.

The Santa

Parganas, but aI

characteristicaI‘
ated viIIages wh'
PatriIineaI prim:

Vmag‘es are not

ABSTRACT

THE SANTAL VILLAGE HEADMAN: A STUDY OF LEADERSHIP AND
CONTINUITY IN AN EGALITARIAN SOCIETY IN INDIA

By

George E. Somers

This thesis focuses on the Santal peasants who reside in
their own landed villages in the Santal Parganas of Bihar, India.
The underlying theme is cultural continuity in the face of innu-
merable and varying forces of change exerted on the traditional
Santal way of life. The primary focus is on the village headman

who is recognized by his people as both the manjhi haram (village

 

father) and the political leader of an egalitarian community. In

this basically egalitarian society, the headman, as primus inter

 

pares, emerges as the major agent in the process of cultural conti-
nuity.

The Santal villages located primarily in the Santal
Parganas, but also in Bengal, Orissa, Assam and Bangla Desh, are
characteristically populated by 150--400 people. They are nucle-
ated villages which are distinguished by a traditional form of
patrilineal primogenitorial inheritance of land and offices. The

villages are not a series of physically isolated communities.

 

Rather. I" an area

 

it is conmon to firl
Parganas is about t
of India, nearly or
are sometimes clusr
uninterrupted patteI
involves a heterogel
and sometimes with?

The small r
specific villages r
tial areas located
Of these villages 1:
their own right, ti
administration. TI
est ranking Iocal c
and five or six otl
of each village wh“

heads, HOWEVer, t

more than a centur
the Sub-Divisional
tration of the sta
has been superimpo

SInCe the

George E. Somers

Rather, in an area of about 50 square miles in the Santal Parganas,
it is common to find 55 or 60 villages. The population of the Santal
Parganas is about three million people according to the 1970 Census
of India, nearly one-third of which were Santals. Their villages
are sometimes clustered together, but such arrangement is not an
uninterrupted pattern. The pattern of village settlements frequently
involves a heterogeneity of ethnic groups among contiguous villages
and sometimes within single villages.

The small region under observation, including the two
specific villages referred to in detail, has well-defined residen-
tial areas located inside territorial village boundaries. In spite
of these villages being considered political and economic units in
their own right, there is a definite overlapping of political
administration. The traditional Santal village headman is the high-
est ranking local official among his fellow villagers. The headman
and five or six other selected elders function as the administrators
of each village which has its own complete council of household
heads. However, the Santal society is an encapsulated society. For
more than a century the headman has been a subordinate appointee of
the Sub-Divisional Officer who represents the government adminis-
tration of the state. In more recent years another government plan
has been superimposed in the area.

Since the mid 1950's the Panchayat system of locally elected
representatives to compose village government has been enacted. The

modern Panchayat system has not had the effect of cutting across the

 

 

local caste hierarc
is known to them.
villages to each Gt
other non-53'1“” vi
This modern ”Stem
composed adminIStra
new avenues of ian
cal system unknown
The overla;
police force of the
from the village la
the police system we
village council sys
ties do not necessi
tional and the mode
in operation tend t
and reciprocal assi
The village headman
acomplex system in

e .
”during Society wh

as

hey are depende
bal

ance. Because t
political

 

George E. Somers

local caste hierarchy among the Santals because no such caste system
is known to them. The modern Panchayat system has linked the Santal
villages to each other and in many instances has linked them to
other non-Santal villages located in the demarcated "block areas".
This modern system places the Santal villages within heterogeneously
composed administrative units beyond the local village and opens

new avenues of influence and control over the people from a politi-
cal system unknown to their traditions.

The overlapping of village watchmen and the mercantile
police force of the government's Anchal police is also a departure
from the village law-and-order system. The courts which parallel
the police system with its hierarchy also overlap the traditional
village council system. However, these overlapping instrumentali-
ties do not necessitate multitudinous disputes between the tradi-
tional and the modern. The systems of government simultaneously
in operation tend to vacillate between mutual economy of function
and reciprocal assistance, which are not always free from conflict.
The village headman is in a unique position in what appears to be
a complex system incorporating the traditional and modern into an
enduring society which values cultural continuity. Cultural conti-
nuity appears to be inextricably related to the role fulfillment of
the headman in keeping with the ways of the ancestors. However, in
order to fulfill this role, the headman is dependent upon his people
as they are dependent upon him to keep the traditional system in
balance. Because this is an encapsulated society, having overt

political and economic relationships with non-Santals and being

involved in new f-
dependent upon th
over from British
India.

The apprc
of social struct;
case studies in <
aspects of Santa'
by the method of
F. G. Bailey in
first half of th
which the villag
ment 0f the head
The thesis begin
the primary ager

comunities of t

George E. Somers

involved in new forms of government organization, the headman is also
dependent upon the constitutional rights of the "aborigines" carried
over from British India and enunciated in the constitution of modern
India.

The approach of this study seeks to combine a description
of social structure and organization with the narration of selected
case studies in order to elucidate both the static and dynamic
aspects of Santal life today. This technique has been influenced
by the method of inquiry employed in the respective studies of
F. G. Bailey in Orissa and R. H. Nicholas in West Bengal. The
first half of the presentation emphasizes the social system in
which the village headman lives; the second half the actual involve-
ment of the headman in what I have labeled a series of enactments.
The thesis begins and ends with the hypothesis that the headman is
the primary agent of cultural continuity in the Santal village

communities of the Santal Parganas.

 

THE 5A5”
CC.‘

 

 

THE SANTAL VILLAGE HEADMAN: A STUDY OF LEADERSHIP AND
CONTINUITY IN AN EGALITARIAN SOCIETY IN INDIA

By
'0

as"
George E. Somers

A THESIS

Submitted to
Michigan State University
in partial fulfillment of the requirements
for the degree of

DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

Department of Anthropology
l975

(c/) Copyright by

George E. Somers

l975

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The exercise of completing the professional requirements for
the formulation of a Ph.D. dissertation also necessitates a degree
of intellectual development. Only through countless and varying
types of experiences is such an endeavor brought to fruition. These
experiences involve a unique combination of individuals without
whose patient guidance and companionship this stage of personal
achievement would never occur. Rather than attempt a display of
prosaic praise or sort out priorities among the genuine friends
whose shared lives have meaningfully contributed to my own through
these recent years, it seems more appropriate to acknowledge as
equally influential the following persons.

Dr. Ralph Nicholas both challenged the intellect and urged
me toward the social anthropological approach of this study. With-
out such a "guru" and personal friend, who mutually shares a love
for India, this undertaking would not have been possible. More
recently the patience and understanding of Dr. Charles Morrison have
made it possible to analyze the material at hand and the form of its
presentation. Dr. Charles Swan has gone far beyond the call of duty
giving endless hours of direction and assistance in writing. There
have been many along the way who as my professors and associates
during recent years have influenced my thinking and kept me encouraged.
Dr. William Ross has been a personal source of academic and emotional

ii

strength when the needs were the greatest. Dr. Harry Raulet has
stayed with me over the years and remains faithful to his student
on the graduate committee.

In addition to those mentioned in the academic field there
have been many others without whom this undertaking would have been
impossible. Dr. and Mrs. Robert Berry of Roanoke, Virginia have
been generous contributors of inspirational and material support
without which the empirical research would have been impossible.
Since the early years in India (l962-1967) my adopted brother,
Emanuel Marandi, and his charming wife, Amelia Tudu, have been
patient interpreters and teachers during the years of learning
the Santali language and the Santal way of life in rural India.
The extended patience and multiplied hours of labor given so
willingly by my dear brother and research assistant, Bimol Kumar,
and his lovely wife, Iti, can be understood only by those who
have shared in common the sweat and the joy of life in an Indian
village.

Mrs. Ioan Steep of Adrian College has given many hours to
editing and questioning and Mrs. Marjorie Lindsay has spent great
effort in typing and retyping the manuscript.

No one deserves greater acknowledgment than my very under-
standing wife, Joyce, who has denied herself many things and spent
many hours alone to make possible this adventure. She has also
given much time just listening to ideas and finally proof-reading.

She has been more thoroughly involved in this study with me than

anyone else. Also participating from our household, our four sons
have been an inspiration and helpful in many ways.

Finally, the people of Manjhipur and Dangrajolha must be
recognized. They have been accepting of a stranger whom they made

a part of their kulhi durup' as well as many days of glad feasting.

 

I can only acknowledge their wisdom and their shared lives with this

simple expression of gratitude.

iv

TABLE OF CONTENTS

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

LIST OF APPENDICES
LIST OF TABLES .

LIST OF FIGURES

LIST OF MAPS

AN ORTHOGRAPHIC GUIDE

Chapter
I. THE PROBLEM, THE SETTING AND THE METHODOLOGY

The Problem . .

The Setting of This Study
Methodology. . .
The Method of Presentation .

II. THE EMERGENCE OF SANTAL HEADMANSHIP

Introduction: Approach to the Subject .
Origins . .
Migration and Settlement

Assimilation and Prosperity

The Santal Rebellion .

Revival .

The Traditional Century .

A Scheduled Tribe .

III. SANTAL COMMUNITIES: THE VILLAGE HEADMAN'S LIFE SETTINGS

Introduction: Communities .
The hor hopon .

The Sfifital aisom

Santal Egalitarianism
Respect for Seniority

The Village Community

Page
ii
viii

ix

xi

xii

Chapter Page

Patterns of Interaction in Two Types of
Villages . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59

IV. THE POLITICAL ARENAS OF THE SANTAL VILLAGE HEADMAN . . 67

Introduction: The Instrumentalities . . . . . . 67
The Household . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 70
The Village Council . . . . . . . . . . . . 71
The Administrative Elders . . . . . . . . . . 74
The Pargana . . . . . . . . . 85
The Sub- Divisional Administration . . . . . . . 91
Modern Rural Programs of Government . . . . . . . 93
Summary: Three Graphic Presentations . . . . . . 98
The Cost of Complexity . . . . . . . . . . . 101

V. SOCIAL CATEGORIES FOR THE HEADMAN AND HIS PEOPLE . . . 103

Introduction: The Importance of Categories . . . . 103
The Santal Paris . . . . . . . . . . . . . 104
The Santal Bos . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 110
The Santal Gharonj . . . . . . . . . . . . 113
The Santal Gutia . . . . . . . . . 123
Summary of the Social Categories . . . . . . . . 125

VI. ENACTMENTS OF THE HEADMAN'S ROLE . . . . . . . . 127

Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . 127
Maintaining the PatriIine . . . . . . . . . . 130
Keeping the Peace . . . . . . . . 136
Maintaining the Village Collectivity . . . T49
Maintaining Proprieties: The Headman and Kasima

Marriage . . . 155
Containing the Deviant: Two Generations Challenge

the System . . . . . . 170

The 1968 Challenge to the Santal System . . . . . 178
Crisis and Survival: The Viability of the

Headman's Role . . . . . . . . . . . . . 186
Challenge in Manjhipur: The Marginal Man as

Contender . . . . . . . . . . . . . 187
Retaining the Chowkidar . . . . . . . . . 190
The Headmanship Crisis in Dangrajolha . . . . . . 196
A Traditional Headman in Political Alliance . . . . 220

VII. THE ROLE OF THE SANTAL VILLAGE HEADMAN . . . . . . 230

The Ascription of The Role . . . . . . . . . . 234
The Headman and The Government . . . . . . . . 237

vi

Chapter Page

The Headman and Other Administrative Elders . . . . 242
The Headman and The People . . . . . . . . . . 246
Protecting Collective Rights . . . . . 248

Ensuring the Performance of Collective Duties . . . 255

Protecting the Rights of Individuals . . . . . . 257

Containing Deviance . . 259

Ensuring Commitment to Santal Community and Culture . 265
Theoretical Conclusions . . . . . . . . . . . 273
DOCUMENTATION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 279
APPENDICES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 282

BIBLIOGRAPHY . . . . . . . ._ . . . . . . . . . 310

vii

LIST OF APPENDICES

Appendix Page
A. Glossary . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 283
Tables of Kinship Relationships . . . . . . . . . 290

C. Santal Creation Myth . . . . . . . . . . . . . 294
D. The Bansgari Case . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 298
E. Genealogical Table for Manjhipur . . . . . . . . . 302

viii

Table

II.
III.

IV.

LIST OF TABLES

Kinship Categories and Social Concerns
Young Ego's Kinship Relationships .

Comparison of Two Studies on Male Ego Relationships:
After Marriage With Specified Affines . .

Comparison of Two Studies on Female Ego Relationships:

After Marriage With Specified Affines .

The Nineteen Patrilines of Manjhipur .

ix

Page
126
291

292

293
304

LIST OF FIGURES

Figure Page
I. Traditional Political Instrumentalities . . . . . . 99

II. Political Instrumentalities During the Traditional
Century . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 99

III. The Current Political System . . . . . . . . . 100
IV. Three Households in Manjhipur . . . . . . . . . 116
V. Kinship Diagram: Sakra Soren Lineage . . . . . . 133
VI. Kinship Diagram: Sobhan Tudu Lineage . . . . . . 180
VII. Kinship Diagram of Choukidar's Lineage . . . . . . 193

Map

I.
2.
3.

LIST OF MAPS

Bihar: Administrative Divisions, 1961 .

The Village of Manjhipur
The Village of Dangrajolha .

xi

Page
xiii
53
56

AN ORTHOGRAPHIC GUIDE

The Santali language was not written prior to the intro-
duction of Sanskritic text. The phonetic and phonemic composition
of the Devanagari script has been used by Indian scholars as one
written form of Santali. However, P.0. Bodding and other Western
missionaries have contributed much to the orthographic accuracy of
reproducing the oral Santali in written form with the use of dia-
critical marks. Culshaw and others have employed the system of
romanization developed by Bodding which is used in this presenta-
tion (Bodding 1930). The following diacritical marks have been used:

1. A circumflex above a vowel, as the o in bog, indicates a
nasal tone.

2. A dot below an "a“. as the a in paris, indicates a resultant
vowel. The pronunciation is not uniform. It sometimes
resembles the pronunciation of the vowel in the first
stressed syllable and sometimes the second syllable of
such an English word as worker pronounced in the southern
English way, the r's being silent.

3. There are four checked consonants indicated by an apostrophe;
k', c', t' and p' which are not found in any form in regular
English usage.

4. Bodding uses a dot below the consonants "t" and "d" to
indicate a hard dental sound. I do not use these dots in
the text of this presentation.

5. Bodding uses an accent with the "n" on occasion to indicate
the palatal n, and a dot above the "n" to indicate the
guttural n. I have not used either of these indicators
but have added a "g" to such words as marang instead.

6. A dot below an "r", as the r in hor, indicates a retroflex
consonant which is not regularly-Used in English.

7. A11 "a's" are pronounced as the "a" in father rather than
the usual English pronunciation, as in sat,
(Culshaw 1949:IX)

xii

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
    
     
    

   
    

 

 
   
       

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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(the lined are: is the Santal Pargana)
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CHAPTER I

THE PROBLEM. THE SETTING AND
THE METHODOLOGY

The Problem

 

Culture change has long been one of the major concerns of
ethnological studies. The processes and agencies of cultural
continuity have often been a focal interest in the study of such
changes, especially for students of the more isolated and non-
literate societies. This study is a contribution to the understand-
ing of cultural continuity in the midst of change, as it is found
in the society of one of the relatively isolated and until recently
non-literate people in the Indian sub-continent. The Santals of
the Santal Parganas, Bihar have been subjected to highly aggressive
assimilative pressures during the past century and a half. The
factors which have served to preserve their cultural identity de-
serve the close attention of the student of culture continuity and
Change.

Assimilative pressures have been exerted on Santal culture
by at least three major traditions. Redfield would have labeled
them "Great traditions" (Redfield 1956). The pan-Indian rural
tradition has been the most immediate in its effect. Its influ-

ence has been pervasively exerted to incorporate the Santal people

into the village community life and peasant economy which were

developed in their final form under the laissez faire policies of

 

the British administration, especially in the first half of the
nineteenth century. Sanskritic elements in the rural tradition
have tended to bring the Santals into assimilated villages as a
subordinate, possibly untouchable, caste rather than treat them as
an ethnic group with their own cultural heritage. Islamic elements
in the rural tradition have tended towards a greater racial amal-
gamation than Sanskritization permits. Both have had similar
economic effects in their tendency to incorporate the Santals as
menials and landless laborers into the rural economy, with inevi-
table weakening of social and religious elements in Santal culture.
The effect of contact with the Christian religious tradition from
Europe and America, where it has won converts, has deprived Santal
society of important supports in ritual and mythology. The modern-
izing tradition, with its scientific approach to problems and its
industrial and technological aspects, has had relatively little
influence on Santal village life in the Santal Parganas. There
will undoubtedly be an increase of this type of influence in the
future. The migration of Santals to employment opportunities out-
side their rural communities has brought some modern influences
into the consciousness of those who have remained in the village.
The opportunities for upward mobility offered by the modernizing
school systems of government and mission have attracted numbers

of Santal youth to leave their villages, at least for a few

years, to‘experience a different environment.

In spite of these assimilative influences, Santal villages
continue to maintain much of their traditional way of life. The
Santals of the Santal Parganas have developed some seemingly suc-
cessful agencies of cultural continuity. At the present juncture
in India's political and social development, it appears quite
possible that these agencies will function to preserve the Santals
as a distinctive people among India's varied and heterogeneous
population.

. One agency for cultural continuity which appears to play
a critical role in the ability of the Santal communities to main-
tain their cultural integrity is the Santal village headman. This
study deals specifically with Santal headmanship.

The problem of this study has not been to place the Santal
village headman in some typology of leadership. The Santal headman
performs his duties in a complex variety of activities and in many
different ways, and no single category realistically characterizes
his part in Santal social life. For instance, in Chapter IV it is
shown that the headman is neither purely an "authority" nor specifi-
cally a "leader"; he exerts both authority and provides leadership.
In Chapter VII it is pointed out that he enjoys the "legitimacy" of
all the three forms suggested by Weber, "traditional", "charismatic"
and "rational". Leadership studies performed in laboratory settings
have suggested a distinction between "authoritarian" and "democratic"
leaders, but observing the Santal headman as he actually functions
in the village-centered world it becomes apparent that at times he

resorts to "unqualified 'power'”, and at other times his goals and

his decisions are formulated through consensus with his peers; this
has been indicated by the analysis attempted in Chapter VII. In
the same chapter the work of the headman is shown to include both
"the preservation of the headman's authority" and "the ensuring of
public benefits", terms which may be compared to the functions of
"social-emotional specialists" and "task specialists" found in the
classic studies of Bales (1950).

Numerous attempts have been made by social scientists to
develop typologies of use in the study of leadership. They have
contributed to the development of a vocabulary of terms useful in
describing the activities of such leaders as the Santal village
headman, but as typologies they have limited use for the Anthropolo-
gist. Even in the survey of representative societies given us in
African Political Systems, the editors in their analytic introduction
do not attempt a typology of leadership. The nearest approach they
make to a typology is their typology of the whole political system:
they find that some have "centralized authority, administrative
machinery and judicial institutions-~in other words a government";
others lack such centralization and have "no sharp divisions of
rank, status and wealth” (Fortes l940:5). It is indicative of the
almost anomalous nature of Santal headmanship that it operates in a
political system which is subject to a highly organized, centralized
government in the non-Santal world while village decisions are con-
ducted where there are "no sharp divisions" and a general egali-
tarianism. It becomes futile to attempt to place Santal village

headmanship in any inclusive typology.

Instead, a descriptive goal has been set for this study.
Two problems are involved in such a study. First is the problem of
focus: what aspects of the headman's activity or functions should
be examined and described? The major alternatives available for
study are the "social" factors and the "cultural" factors. The
distinction between these has great theoretical value, but in the
field and in an understandable description of what has been actually
observed the inclusion of both factors is inevitable. In describing
"relationships" the work is impoverished if Egrm§_and yalgg§_are
ignored, and in descriptions confined to the norms and values the
results are highly abstract and appear to lack realism. In this
study the focus is largely on the actual behavior of the Santal
village headman, but pertinent cultural factors have not been
ignored. To put it in another way, the focus is on the actual role

gf_the headman; this has required attention both to structural ele-

 

ments which accord status and those elements of culture which
define the role of the headman for the people.

The second problem in a descriptive study is raised by the
need for a consistent and adequate vocabulary, in this case a
vocabulary of role-descriptive terms. No such vocabulary has been
developed which has been either widely used or generally accepted.
In the final chapter, Chapter VII, where a systematic description
of the headman's role has been attempted, terms have been borrowed
from a variety of scientific sources as well as from general English
usage. It is hoped that these successfully serve to provide the

comprehensive descriptive work intended in this study.

The Setting of This Study

The area in which the field work was carried out provided
several advantages. First, it may be regarded as the heart-land
of the Santal people where the characteristics of Santal culture
are overtly displayed in the continuity of village life. This area
is not the original homeland of the Santals; that is found some
three hundred miles to the southwest near the Chota Nagpur plateau
now inhabited by Mundari-speaking cultural-kinfolk of the Santals.
The geographic area under study here is the setting in which Santal
communities have developed and maintained their status as a dominant
and readily identifiable population.

The specific area of this study is a part of the Santal
Parganas. It is significant to note that the Santal Parganas are
located at the extreme eastern end of that "Central Belt" of for-
ested hills and uplands in which a number of India's minority
cultures have found "refuge areas". Among the several minor regions
included in the Santal Parganas district, the part referred to as
the Damin-i-koh is the setting of the most vigorous preservation of
Santal culture. It is a rolling upland along the southern edge of
the Rajamahal Hills (hence its name, meaning in Persian "the skirt
of the hills"); the Rajmahal Hills form a group of rugged ridges
which press northwards against the mainstream of the Ganges River
at the point where it is about to turn sharply southwards into the
Bengal delta. The Santal villages in the Damin-i-koh have enjoyed

a freedom for the continuation of their traditional life unequalled

by any other area where Santals live, even by other sections of the
Santal Parganas.

A second advantage found in this particular part of Bihar
has been the presence of two contrasting, although contiguous
villages. Five villages were first selected for study and all
five were frequently visited, but the most useful data were col-
lected from the two villages of Manjhipur and Dangrajolha.1 Manjipur
is a ”pure" Santal village; Dangrajolha includes, with its Santal
minority, both Hindi-speaking and Bengali-speaking ethnic groups,
religiously both Hindu and Muslim, and, to symbolize the operation
of assimilative forces, a government school, a sub-Post Office, a
Hindu temple, a Muslim mosque, a Christian church and an assortment
of shops operated by merchants and moneylenders.

The third advantage gained in selecting this area for study
is the absence of previous community studies in these villages.

The pioneering studies of the Norwegian missionary scholars, Bodding
and Gausdal were made, in large part, in this area, but Bodding's
massive five volume work--his Dictionary of the Santali language--
published between 1932 and 1936, belongs in the field of linguistic
studies, while the present study is concerned with the social
organization and cultural milieu of Santal communities. Gausdal's

The Santal Khutia, referred to in Chapter V, is restricted to reli-

 

gious aspects of Santal society and is general in its source of data.
The early work of the Englishman, Archer, published largely in
periodical form, was done among Santals outside the Damin-i-koh,

and the work of Culshaw, The Tribal Heritage, reporting his findings

in the field of festivals and folklore, was done among Santals
living outside the Santal Parganas. The first work published by

an Indian Anthropologist on the Santals, Mukherjee's The Santals
appearing in 1943 incorporates data from a variety of publications
including the Census of India Gazetteers on the Santal Parganas
rather than personal observation and participation among the people.
In 1962 Mukherjee revised and expanded his work to include further
data collected by various scholars in the intervening years.
Datta-Majumdar's The Santal,_a Study in Culture Change was presented
in 1956. It describes kinship, polity, economics and ritual as
found among Santals in Bengal who had already experienced consider-
able loss of traditional culture before he worked among them.
Santals of the Santal Parganas, published also in 1956, by P. C.
Biswas, provides an informative account of Santal life in an area
not far from the Damin-i-koh. Shorter summaries of Santal culture
have appeared in a number of works, each covering several of India's
"schedule tribes”, but these have tended to be highly generalized

in their statements and not the product of intensive field work.

The American Anthropologist, Martin Orans, whose 1965 publication
described political trends in a highly industrialized population

of Santals, did his work in southern Bihar, at the southern extremity
of the area outside the Santal Parganas. Santal Social Organization
was published by Kochar in 1970 as a result of his field work in the
late 1950's near Shantinikatan in Bengal where the people no longer
depend on the cultivation of land. The Santals described by Kochar

have also been greatly influenced by the dominant presence of

’Bangalis. Nevertheless, the social structure described by Kochar
is similar to that found in the Damin-i-koh and offers a reliable
comparative study.

The fourth advantage in selecting this area for study is
personal. I have lived in the area for seven years. I speak
Santali with facility and I have achieved numerous intimate personal
relationships with individuals from whom reliable information has

been derived.2

Methodology

The data presented in this study were gathered in an
eighteen-month residence, from January 1970 to June 1971, in the
more concentrated area around Manjhipur and Dangrajolha. Although
I did not live in either village per sg I spent two or three days
each week there, while my Indian research assistant, his wife and
children lived in Manjhipur throughout the period. It was not
necessary to employ paid informants from among the villagers because
of my facility with the language. I was free to move among the
people, sometimes participating in ritual ceremonies as well as
casual conversations, in personal discussions as well as in meetings
with village elders. Recorded notations on each day's findings,
together with extensive notes made by my research assistant, have
provided the basic data used in this report.

The methodological focus of this study has been ecclectic
rather than limited to any one procedure or interest. To observe

behavior in its total setting has been the ideal toward which I

10

have striven. But behavior tends to be meaningless much of the time
unless the norms, values and motives of the actors are known; there-
fore both the structural and the normative aspects of Santal behavior
have been the focus of attention.

The fact that this study has been confined to observations
in only two villages, for the most part, may seem to limit its
value as a general examination of Santal culture. This limitation
is inevitable in this type of study, based as it is on intensive
field work. However, as noted above, there were a number of con-
tacts made with nearby villages which gave a wider perspective to
the observation in the narrower field of intensive study. Also,
years of contact with the entire Oamin-i-koh and with those who
have lived closely with the Santals have provided a corrective to
any tendencies to make large-scale generalizations on the basis of

limited field data.

. The Method of Presentation

The problem of presentation has required considerable effort
before it could be resolved. After several attempts at a general
description of political and social life in the villages under study,
it became apparent that a limitation of the subject was necessary.
Therefore it was decided to center the presentation on the role of
the Santal village headman.

The role of the headman was chosen as the focus because the
headman is both supported by the Santal traditions and at the same

time the enactment of headmanship is the primary support of

ll

hapramko ak' dustur (the traditions of the ancestors). It will be

 

seen that the role of the headman has become more critical with the
growing need to maintain close connections with the protective
"encapsulating" government, particularly with the Sub-Divisional
Officer who is the local representative of the Government of India.
The headman is permitted direct access to the Sub-Divisional Officer
which enables him to bring the problems of the village directly to
the officer most competent and best prepared to give assistance.
This connection also makes the headman the guardian of the village
land records which may be described as the "Charter of Santal
Identity", for the records protect the rights of the Santals to the
ownership of their lands; when these records fall into the hands of
non-Santal village officers, a variety of means are employed to
remove the rights of the Santals. Where the village headman is
active and competent, the cultural continuity of the village is

more surely protected, not necessarily as a rigid, reactionary
resistance to change, but as a continuity of life style in which

the innovative elements can be integrated into the traditional with
a minimum of social disturbance. It may be of significance that in
many areas along the borders of the Santal Parganas and in districts
where isolated villages of Santals are located, the non-Santal people
often refer to the Santals as "Manjhis", giving the whole community I

the title of its headman, the manjhi.

 

But even such a limited subject involved so much information
and extended analysis that a further limitation was necessary. It

seemed appropriate to eliminate first the economic problems of the

12

headman and his people; these would require an extensive presentation.
Then the religious aspects of the headman's role were excluded,
though a large body of data on this subject has been collected.
Finally, it became apparent that even the socialization of the
Santals, as it is seen in the preparation of the headman for his
role, had to be eliminated from this presentation.

This process left the basic social and political life of
the village as it involves the role of the headman. From the data
collected, a number of action-situations became the center of
interest. These have been termed, "enactments", and a representa-
tive sample of "enactments" provide the basic data for the analysis
of the headman's role.

Before the reports of the "enactments" can be made fully
intelligible it is necessary to present two bodies of information
as introductory material. First the historical development is
described which led to the emergence of headmanship, as it is
found today. The historical review given in Chapter 11 presents
the primary reasons why certain traits have emerged and remain
operative in the performance of the headman's role. Central to this
historical review is the fact of "encapsulation" explained as a
protective membrane surrounding the Santal village established by
the Government of India.

A second type of information seems necessary as an intro-
duction to the "enactments". The behavior of the headman cannot be
made intelligible without first describing the setting in which the

action was performed. Hence, a chapter on the social and ecological

13

community in which the headman lives and works: this community is
two-layered, the Santal community as a whole--hor_dj§om_(5antal
country)--and the 259, or local village community. Having placed
the headman in his "world", the political "instrumentalities"
require description before his actions can become significant:

the governmental entities, the various groups of village people,
the specific offices of the village administration all need ex-
plicit description. Finally, it is necessary to outline the basic
traditional categories into which the Santals divide themselves,
their clans, sub-clans, sects, households, etc. After this
descriptive material is presented in Chapters III, IV, and V, it
becomes possible to present the nine selected "enactments”.

The "enactments". however, provide little more than a
series of episodes or anecdotes. A systematic understanding of
the headman's role is attempted in the over-all expository treat-
ment in Chapter VII. Here the generalizations possible from the
data collected have been offered. The method by which the headman
succeeds to his office and the problems involved in using this
method, the hereditary principle, is analyzed. The relation of
the headman to the government is described. The last part of
Chapter VII deals with the relationship of the headman with his
people, in a variety of analytical sections which focus on the
maintenance of tradition and the containment of deviance. This
exposition of the role of the Santal village headman is, in a way,

a summary of the entire work. It also includes references to the

14

source of role-descriptive terms and suggestions for further study,
particularly the area mentioned above as omitted in the present work.
The most significant theoretical contribution of this study
is the analysis of Santal village council procedures which repeat-
edly validate and fulfill the ideal of Santal consensus. Consensus

in the village council is both a reflection of ato_sagai and a means

 

of perpetuating it as a characteristic of Santal culture. F. G.
Bailey has provided a "scheme for investigation" in his Decisions
in Councils and Committees (1973) in which he raises issues and
questions directly applicable to the non-caste Santals of the Santal
Parganas. Bailey's face-to-face hypothesis, his concept of arena
councils and his description of the traditional and statutory
village Panchayats are all illustrated in this study.

The "face-to-face hypothesis" is substantiated in the fre-
quent meeting of the Santal village council. The "arena council"
is illustrated in both the pargana assembly of traditional Santal
society and in the inter-ethnic council of the heterogeneous village
of Dangrajolha, where the Santals are a minority. The traditional
panchayat system has had little effect on the encapsulated Santal
society but the new statutory panchayat system, as illustrated in
Chapter VI, has already effected even homogeneous Santal villages.

The description of the Santal village communities, complete
with their egalitarian form of village council, including the
paradoxical role of the traditional headman, may also contribute

to Bailey's concern over the historical fact of consensus. It

15

seems that the Santal communities in this part of India have suc-
cessfully actualized the ideology which places paramount value on
ato sagai, This becomes especially evident in the enactments
_._!.._I_.

recorded in Chapter VI where the presence of the headman and the

pursuit of consensus are inextricibly related to ato sagai.

 

CHAPTER II
THE EMERGENCE OF SANTAL HEADMANSHIP

Introduction: Approach to the Subject

The emergence of leaders or leadership groups may be studied
in different ways. The emergence of social structure can be the
focus of study. Patterns of interaction are examined in an attempt
to discover what factors are involved in the rise of specific indi-
viduals or groups to the status of leadership. The organization of
power relationships in a society or social entity becomes the major
object of inquiry. Very often this type of leadership study has
involved the scrutiny of the competitive process in the political
arena. Where records of political activity are available over a
significant period of change, this approach has provided valuable
insights into the nature of the process by which leaders emerge in
their arena. Such records, whether written or oral, must provide
in some detail evidence of the specific events and probable moti-
vations involved in the rise of the leaders or elites under study.

A different approach is employed in this chapter. Here a
study of the emergence of a cultural role is the focus of exami-
nation. Even in this approach, a historical perspective is neces-
sary. But the data required are more general and relate to society-
wide conditions rather than to the details of specific interactions.
Norms and values are the subject of study, rather than pragmatic

16

17

activity. The information available among the Santals along with a
few written resources provide the data for this type of study.‘

It is difficult at this point to judge which of the two
approaches has provided greater understanding of the organization
of leadership for the social scientist.I The study of interaction
and of social structures, their emergence and change, has generated
a body of fact and theory which is impressively authentic and
realistic. The study of cultural roles is more abstract and gener-
alized. Nevertheless, it deals with the fundamental data of be-
havior--the norms and values which form the essential framework
within which interaction takes place, the "rules of the game" which
largely govern the competitive process. It is probably correct to
say that both approaches are necessary and capable of contributing
to each other. Certainly, the approach used depends largely upon
the available data.

The purpose of this chapter is to describe how the cultural
role of the Santal village headman has emerged out of a series of
historical experiences. The major periods of Santal history, as
far as it is known, will be briefly described as they relate to the
gradual development of the norms and values, traditions and insti-
tutions, which govern the behavior of the Santal village headman
today. Later chapters deal with the headman's role in the con-
temporary scene; the present chapter deals with the historical

emergence of what became culturally defined as headmanship.

18

Origins

Early steps in the emergence of headmanship are lost to
history. The conditions under which the role first developed are
not recorded. Any attempt at reconstructing the early life of the
Santal people which produced the role of the headman would be pure
speculation. For purposes of this study we can only accept the fact
that when the Santals first attracted the attention of adminis-
trators and writers, they were organized with village headmen in
small nucleated settlements. However, events and conditions for
which we do have historical data provide some of the most signifi-
cant characteristics of the role as it appears today. The purpose
of this chapter is to note the effect of these known events and

conditions upon the village headman's role.

'Migration and Settlement

The role of the Santal village headman has been colored
by the fact that the Santals in the Damin-i-koh have been, in
historic times, an immigrant people. They represent an intrusive
cultural element coming into the area within the last one hundred
and fifty years. The circumstances of their migration into this
area involved two notable experiences. In the first place the mi-
gration demanded what might be called a pioneering investment. In
the second, the migration brought the Santal into conflict with
earlier occupants of the territory. Both the investment process
and the conflict seem to have influenced the forms of leadership

which evolved.

19

To understand the nature and extent of the investment made
by the Santal migration and settlement in the Damin-i-koh, we
should first note conditions in what is considered their original
homeland. It is impossible to trace the routes of the earliest
Santal migrations, although it is quite evident from their mythology
that migration has been a pattern in their history. It suffices
here to say with confidence that the Santal villagers of today are
descendants of one of several Mundari-speaking people who, prior
to the establishment of British control in India, formed the domin-
ant population in a large part of the Chota Nagpur region. This is
a region of rugged hill-ranges and, historically, of dense forests,
penetrated by several major streams of which Santal mythology notes
most frequently the River Damodar. Somewhere in this region,
probably in what is today the Midnapore District of West Bengal,
some three hundred miles south and west of the Damin-i-koh, lay
the land of San; from which the Santals are reputed to have gained
their name.

In this homeland, at some time during the unrecorded past
the ancestors of the present Santals developed an interest in wet-
rice cultivation. This interest in permanent agriculture was added
to, although not completely substituted for, the earlier love of
hunting and dependence upon forest products for livelihood. Oppor-
tunities to possess rice fields or to hold them in the face of
aggressive non-Santal land speculators were limited. As the Chota
Nagpur area was penetrated by the agricultural populations the

Santals became land hungry people early in the nineteenth century.

20

At this point it was apparently not difficult to induce the Santals
to leave their homeland for cultivable areas elsewhere. The hunger
for land seems to have been the basic motivation for the investment
of life and labor in the migration to the Damin-i-koh.

Capital resources required for the migration included
labor, life-support during the period before harvests, and tools,
animals and seed necessary for the agricultural operation. Labor
was plentiful and organized under village leaders. Because the
migration took place in groups they tended to settle in nucleated
villages. The investment in labor tended to be group investments
rather than individual or family investments. This was enhanced
by the cooperation necessary for the continuing arduous work of
preparing rice fields and cutting channels for irrigation. Life-
support during the migration and the period before the first
harvesting came from similarly collective enterprises. The Santals
were able to exploit the forests along the route of migration and
surrounding their new settlements for meat and vegetables. Their
hunting usually involved a large-scale operation which character-
istically involved considerable cooperation. There are also indi-
cations that the gathering of forest products was done in groups.
It was only for iron tools, draft oxen and seed grains that the
Santals had to go to out-side lending agencies for their capital
resources. Under the aegis of officers of the British East India
Company, the Santals went to the traditional agricultural money-
lenders of non-Santal villages for loans for their tools, animals

and seed grains. These loans were by legal necessity individual

21

and family responsibilities. Though the Santals were dependent
on the non-Santal moneylenders after their migration it seems er-
roneous to assume that their migration depended on moneyed capi-
talists. It seems apparent that leadership and authority, like
their labor and life-support enterprises, were indigenous to the
migrating Santals.

The collective and cooperative experiences of the migration
and settlement in the Damin-i-koh tended to reinforce earlier trends
in Santal Society. The great interest in wet-rice cultivation and
permanent agriculture became a focal economic interest in Santal
culture. Egalitarian organization became the basic principle of
Santal political and social relationships. Indigenous leadership
was esteemed in Santal village life and also in inter-village re-
lations.

In addition to the experiences involved in the investment
made by the Santals in their migration and settlement in the Damin-
i-koh they also experienced conflict before the new land was theirs.
They did not find the Damin-i-koh totally unoccupied, and their
movement into the area was not uncontested. Only through success
in a period of conflict with non-Santal rivals did they achieve
their dominance in the territory. Their success in the conflict
depended in part on their technology as competent hunters and
masters of the ways of the forest and in part on their effective
social organization and leadership.

The few, poor, scattered settlements of agriculturalists

who had managed to penetrate the forests of the Damin-i-koh made

22

no effort to contest the settlement of the Santals. It was the
Maler or Mal Pahariahs (literally the "Mal" people of the hills)
who attempted to prevent the immigration.

The Mal Pahariahs were different from the Santals in many
ways. We may note the difference in language, in economic inter-
ests, and in their relationships with outsiders. The language of
the Santals is to be classified as an Austric language, akin to
Mundari, Savara and other languages of the eastern sector of India's
"Central Belt". 0n the other hand, the language of the Malers is
related in its fundamental structures to the Dravidian languages
of south India and to the Gondi and Oraon languages found mostly
in the central sector of India's “Central Belt". In their early
contacts, the Santals and Malers were not able to communicate with
each other in mutually understandable language. Economically the
Malers differed from the Santals in that they rejected completely
the Santal preference for rice cultivation and permanent field
agriculture. They were slash-and-burn horticulturalists whose
primary interest was in exploiting the forests for their economic
needs. This economy demanded access to extensive areas of forest.
The forests were important to the Malers for a further reason
connected with their dealings with their neighbors. The forests
served as a "privileged sanctuarw" for their marauding raids on
the villages of the river plains which lay to the north and east
of their hill country. They had succeeded for centuries in main-
taining the inviolate isolation of their forests while they at-

tacked the village communities whenever the defenses of the villagers

23

were weakened or disorganized. The Santals, on the other hand,
tended to live at peace with their agricultural neighbors.

The Santals were not the first to challenge the Malers'
rights to their forests. Soon after the East India Company took
control of Bengal a devastating famine disorganized the village
communities which lay within reach of the marauding Malers who
immediately took advantage of the situation. This brought them
to the attention of the government in Bengal which promptly sent
company troops to protect the rent-paying agriculturalists. The
British established a military presence in the Raj Mahal hills,
but the pacification of the Mal Pahariahs did not involve any
serious cultural change for them. The first officers in charge
of pacification were men of exceptional humanity. They followed
policies which provided early precedents for later dealings of the
British with the Santals. They gave recognition to the traditional
Maler leaders, and promised the preservation of their traditional
customs, while requiring only that the Malers themselves form a
peace-keeping organization. Under the early British officers the
Malers continued in possession of their forest rights in the Damin-
i-koh.

After the first years of the pacification, however, the
authorities in Calcutta began to call for revenues from the Damin-
i-koh and Raj Mahal Hill areas. Local officials tried to persuade
the Malers to alter their patterns of food production, to substitute
permanent farming for their slash-and-burn methods. When the Malers

failed to respond to these efforts, relations between the authorities

24

and the Malers became strained. Company officials decided that the
area of the Damin-i-koh should be opened to migrants of more pro-
ductive habits.

The British authorities encouraged Santal migration into
the Damin-i-koh. However, they did not provide any effective
protection for the new settlers against the attacks of the Malers
who claimed prior rights to the forests of the area. The Malers
could not mount any massive resistance to the Santals, for the
peace-keeping corps subsidized by the British was untrained for
concerted efforts against other people. In spite of this the
Malers carried out their usual guerrilla tactics over a long period
of time against the new Santal agriculturalists in the area.

The outcome of the conflict was determined by factors of
technology and social organization. In both the Santals were su-
perior to the Malers. The Santals were not "purely agriculturalists";
they were familiar with the forests and could meet appropriately
the guerrilla-type tactics of the Malers. The capacity of the
Santal leadership for maintaining their social organization while
keeping the morale of their people during their physical encounters
with the Malers proved more than adequate. The Santals became the
dominant population in the territory leaving the Malers as a mi-
nority in the Damin-i-koh for more than a century. It should be
noted that in addition to the fact that early Santal migrants were
able to match and defeat the Malers, the massive numbers of immi-
grants within a few years resulted in "no contest" between the two

ethnic groups.

25

In 1837 a British Civil Servant, James Pontet, was assigned
to the deve10pment of revenue resources in the Damin-i-koh. In
1838 only some 3,000 Santals resided in less than 50 villages in
the area. By 1851, only fourteen years later, the Santals numbered
about 83,000 settled in more than 1,400 villages, each with its own
headman. Fertile valleys were cleared of scrub forests and became
highly productive paddy land. The Damin-i-koh began exporting rice
and vegetable oils to Calcutta markets. Most notably, according to
records of the East India Company, the amount of collectable taxes
in the Damin-i-koh increased from rupees 2,000 in 1838 to nearly
rupees 44,000 in 1851.

As a consequence of their investments in land-clearing and
their success in the conflict with the Mal Pahariahs the settlement
of the Santals in the new area left them with a substantial terri-
torial heritage. Their oral traditions reflect a continuing pride
in their achievements; they had earned their right to the land.
Their consciousness of ethnic identity had been heightened by the
Santal victory. More important for this study was the effect of
the migration upon leadership roles. Through the process of settle-
ment in the Oamin-i-koh the village headmen acquired a prestige
which has been successfully preserved and passed down through the
successive generations. The headman today inherits the status of
the village founder (Manjhi Haram) whose memory is revered and

symbolized in the village manjhi than.3

 

 

Assimilation and Prosperity
After the migration and settlement, the Santals entered a

period of serious social and economic disorganization. In little

26

more than a generation their achievements were very nearly nullified
and the economic prosperity they had established was largely dissi-
pated. To some extent the term "cultural distortion", suggested by
Wallace and used by Nicholas for instances of "demoralization"

among "subordinate groups" in situations of culture contact, may

be applied to the Santals in this period (Nicholas 1973:73). To
explain this rapid deterioration we may note two conditions of
Santal life at this point in their history. First, as they became
predominantly agricultural in their economy they became increasingly
incorporated with non-Santal communities in the governmental system
of British India. Secondly, they fell prey to the perils of pros-
perity.

In the non-Santal world into which the migrants were now
precipitated, the British East India Company was attempting to
establish a political order governed by laissez faire principles.

It tended to value highly the expansion of individual competitive
enterprise and its policies consciously subsidized such enterprise.
This usually meant ignoring, if not actively discouraging, collective
and cooperative economies. The British system of authority was
highly rationalized and rigidly bureaucratic. This meant that only
those with close friends in the system and considerable adeptness

in manipulating the bureaucratic rules could obtain specialized and
personal attention to their needs. The system of justice to which
the Santal was compelled to resort in this new setting was based

upon highly verbalized laws maintained in the precise written form

of British tradition. These laws were enforced with impersonal

27

disinterest and preserved by complex rules foreign to the Santal
social organization. The Santals came out of a history in which
cooperative enterprise had proved successful. They had learned
well its rules and procedures which were essential to their way

of life. They were ignorant of the methods of the British com-
petitive order and regarded it with disapproval. They were power-
less against a bureaucracy in which they had no friends while their
opponents had many. They were helpless to protect themselves against
injustices and exploitation because they knew only the personal
procedures of their village council where adjustments and adap-
tations were made with considerable freedom. They knew nothing of
written evidence and the wide-spread perjury of the British courts
were alien and abhorrent. The manipulation of court procedures

was also foreign to them. The failure of the Santal to preserve
their rights and identity in this period was largely due to the
fact that they were unprepared for incorporation into the British
Indian economic and political order.

It is possible to describe this dilemma of Santal culture
in terms suggested by Wolfe, using his distinction between "primi-
tive" and "peasant" cultures. Wolfe's definitions are given thus:

in primitive society, producers control the means of
production, including their own labor, and exchange their
own labor and its products for the culturally defined
equivalent goods and services of others. . . . In primitive
society, surpluses are exchanged directly among groups or
members of groups; peasants, however, the rural cultivators
whose surpluses are transferred to a dominant group of rulers
that uses the surpluses both to underwrite its own standard
of living and to distribute the remainder to groups in society

that do not farm but must be fed for their specific goods
and services in turn (Wolfe 1966:4).

28

Santal society before and, perhaps, during the settlement of the
Damin-i-koh, may be characterized as "primitive". The period

after the first settlement may be described as one in which a rapid
transition to the conditions of a "peasant" society took place.
Relatively independent in most economic affairs, the Santals sud-
denly found themselves moved irrestibly into "peasant" status amid
the marketing processes of a society dominated by rulers unsympa-
thetic to their norms or their preparation. Later developments in
Santal history, to be described presently, may be defined in Wolfe's
terms, as a return of Santal society to a position intermediate
between the "primitive" and "peasant" conditions.

The second reason for the difficulties of the Santals after
settlement was generally achieved may be found in their lack of
preparation for an unaccustomed prosperity. The Santal was tempted
to spend more for clothing and alcohol than he could afford because
he counted too heavily on the harvests from his newly cleared land.
However, this weakness need not be ascribed to some entirely personal
or cultural (or "primitive") "love of pleasure". It must be seen in
a broader perspective. In the area which the Santal had newly
settled, markets were quickly established by non-Santal merchants
in centers easily accessible to the peasants, and commodities of
world-wide trade became available in the Santal area.

The new and attractive goods served to disorganize the
villagers' values. The Santals found themselves surrounded by
items which did not fit into their familiar system of “culturally

defined equivalent goods and services" (Ibid). Without an adequate

29

system of equivalent values, they often paid far more for what they
purchased than their economy warranted. To make it possible for
the Santals to overspend, the retail merchants provided credit.
Loans were made at usurious rates of interest enabling the entre-
preneur more profit from his moneylending than from the retailing.
There is evidence that aggressive retailing was motivated more by
the profits of moneylending than by the gains from the sale of
commodities. Goods were made to appear attractive and novel so
that the newly prosperous Santals would go into debt to buy them.
Indebtedness was usually secured by mortgages on the Santal's land,
and as soon as the debtor began to default on mortgage payments the
law permitted the moneylender to take possession on the mortgaged
acreage. The merchant, whether a Bengali merchant-moneylender
(mahajan) from the east or a Bihari merchant-moneylender (banya)
from the north or west, was protected by all the powers of the
judicial and police systems. The Santal was handicapped by the
fact that being illiterate there was no way to scrutinize personal
accounts, far less contest the situation through a foreign system
of law. Within a few years after their settlement in the Damin-i-
koh the Santals lost control of the fields they had carved out of
the forests.

The result was not merely the personal disorganization
which Wallace mentions: ". . . alcoholism, passivity, indolence,
violence, irresponsibility, etc." (Nicholas 1973:73). It disordered
the Santal culture. The Santal became a helot on the acres he had

brought into production. He became a menial in the house of the

3O

merchant who had invited him into an unfamiliar commerce. But what
was more profoundly disturbing, he saw the whole structure of his
village life changing into that of a typical Indian caste-village.
The merchants and the money lenders pressed the Santals into a
subordinate status in the caste hierarchy which fit their own
traditions and predilections. As a landless laborer the Santal

was being depressed into the status of an outcaste. Because he
ignored the status symbols of Hindu society, such as the taboos

on widow-remarriage and meat-eating, the Santal was becoming an
untouchable among the more powerful non-Santals. More important

to this study, the Santal village headman seemed to be relegated

to nothing more than an occasional leader in the panchayat meetings

of a subordinate people.

The Santal Rebellion

Before this process could be completed, the Santal rose
in violent rebellion. The rebellion, the “Hool” of 1855 is re-
garded by the Santals as an event of crucial importance to their
history; the social scientist can give it no less importance. The
rebellion resembles in some respects the phenomena referred to as
"nativistic movements", "cargo cults", and "messianic movements"
which have been described in many parts of the world. According
to the records of the Santal Rebellion the traditional leadership
did not precipitate the eventual outburst of violence. This was
effected by visionaries with claims to supernatural powers. Al-

though the rebellion did not have all the characteristics of what

31

Wallace has called "religious revitalization" (Nicholas 1973:68).
Santals over a wide area were inspired toward saggj, (actual
"oneness“) and a determination to regain the status achieved by
their settlement in the new land regardless of personal cost.

Reports of wide-spread discontent appeared in 1854. In
village and paggaga_(inter-village) councils there were frequent
discussions of the plight of all Santals. The three most noted.
complaints were: (1) the fraudulent manipulation of the money-
lenders, who falsified accounts, committed perjury in court actions,
and corrupted government clerks and police officers with their
bribes; (2) the rapacity of tax collectors and landlords collecting
land-taxes; and (3) the cruelty of the police.

Excitement mounted as the dry season passed and food re-
sources dwindled. Suddenly, in a village not far from Barhait,
a climax was reached. According to the most widely accepted version
of events, two brothers, Sindhu and Kanhu, reported that they had
received a visitation from the creator god of the Santals, the awe-
some Marang Buru who had never been known to appear in any form to
any man before. The brothers reported that they had been visited
by the god for seven days in succession, and that at the last visit
Marang_8uru had given them a book with blank white pages on which
to unite commands to the Santals to avenge their oppressions. News
of the miraculous and repeated visitations spread quickly. Blank
white pages began to circulate through the Santal villages, wide
and far, symbollically commanding the people to draw up their bills

of indictment and to take action against those who had stolen the

 

32

,land which was rightfully theirs. It is a measure of the Santal
desperation that the supernatural visitation involved their most
awesome, unapproachable and ultimate deity. It also seems sig-
nificant that "blank white" pages were the particular symbols
chosen to be circulated among the traditionally non-literate people.
One major cause of their difficulty in dealing with moneylenders
and courts was their illiteracy. The people who had been oppressed
through the written "white pages" of the non-Santal world produced
their own book of record and determined that the condemnation of
their exploiters would be spelled out in detail upon its pages.

On June 30th 1855, in the season when normally the culti-
vators should have been preparing their fields for the coming of
the annual monsoons, ten thousand Santals gathered in an encampment
just outside the village where the visionary brothers, Sidhu and
Kanhu, were living. As Datta reports, "the divine order that the
Santals should get out of their oppressors' control was announced"
by the brothers to the crowd, and the "Santals declared their
determination to do away with the Bengali and up-country mahajans
and bagyas, to take possession of the country and set up a Government
of their own". It is significant to our study of the headman that,
as Datta reports, in the midst of this crescendo of furor and clamor,
"letters were then written by Kirta, Badhoo and Sunno Manjhis at
Sidhu's direction addressed to Government, to the Commissioner, the
Collector, and Magistrate at Bhagalpur, the Collector and Magistrate
at Bisbhum, to the Darogahs of Thannahs Digbee and Tikree (Raj Mahal)

and to several Zamindars and others; from the Darogahs and Zamindars

33

replies were called for within 15 days" (Datta 1940:15-16). The
traditional leaders of the people, the three headmen, at the very
brink of the rebellion wrote formal complaints to the government
officers. These documents represented a last attempt to achieve

the kind of adjustment and reconciliation which the Santals generally
manage to achieve in their own judicial processes. The summary
commands to the police officers (darogahs) and land-tax collectors
(zamindars) to appear before the Santals indicates that these
functionaries required immediate trial and condemnation for their
deeds of personal maltreatment and exploitation.

Almost immediately thereafter violence broke out. A small
caravan of moneylenders was proceding to a weekly market when they
were met by a large group of excited Santals near the village of
Barhait. The Santals in their fury attacked the carts and their
occupants, leaving five moneylenders dead. A Police patrol was sent
to apprehend the two leaders of the Santals, Sidhu and Kanhu, and
bring them to trial for the murder of the five moneylenders. The
leader of the patrol found himself outnumbered and attempted to
reason with the Santals. When he tried to slip away the crowd went
out of control and only two of the 20 policemen survived. These
two were able to report the violence to superior officers. Presently
some 30,000 Santals, armed with axes, hunting spears, bows and arrows
were on the march. The rebels were not seeking to destroy the
British regime although a few British officials were killed in
isolated areas. The prime targets were the individuals known to

the Santals as responsible for their losses and degradation:

34

numbers of moneylenders, many land-tax collectors and particular
policemen notorious for their rapacity. A succession of episodes
marked the next four months, until, after the monsoon season had
ended and the cool weather begun, martial law was declared on
November 10th 1855. With fourteen thousand troops armed with
modern weapons, General Lloyd and Brigadier General Bird threw

a cordon around the Santal population. The "Hool" was suppressed

in sixty days, at the cost of some 10,000 Santal lives.

Revival

Though the British authorities crushed the rebellion with
decisive military force, the results of the rebellion favored the
Santals and brought redress to many of the complaints which had
prompted their violence. It brought a significant change in the
relationship between the Santals and the economic and political
systems of British India. It may be said that the precedents set
by authorities who had pacified the Mal Pahariahs a half-century
earlier were applied to the Santals. Since the Santal population
concerned was a much larger, tax-paying and productive one, the
British were far more thorough in dealing with the Santals than in
the earlier situation. McPhail reports that "the Santal grievances
were so fully redressed that some of the newspapers of the day
complained that the Government was encouraging rebellion by granting
everything the rebels had asked for". Actually, as McPhail declares,
a "lesson in government . . . had been taught not by the Government

to the subject people, but by a subject people to its Government",

35

the lesson being that Government cannot ignore the welfare of its
people or remain blind to profound social and cultural dislocations
(McPhail 1922:63).

Administrative changes were made. The first measure taken
was the establishment of a distinct administrative area in which
Santal interests were to be guarded. An area of 5,000 square miles
was carved out of the existing districts of Bhagalpur and Birbhum,
and called explicitly the Santal Parganas. This was declared a
"non-regulation district", meaning that the usual judicial and
bureaucratic procedures of British India would not be applicable
to the government of the new district. The administrative center
was moved to the village of Dumka which was centrally located to
the Santal population and somewhat isolated from the non-Santal
interests surrounding the area. The officer placed in charge of
the new district, Mr. Ashley Eden, was a man known for his awareness
of indigenous needs and his ability to improvise procedures of
administration suitable to special settings.

The next important measure was the establishment of a new
role for the Santal village headman. It is evident that whatever
the excesses of the rebellion, the reputation of the Santal village
headmen, as responsible leaders, was not tarnished. They were not
‘regarded by authorities as radical extremists, but as individuals
capable of maintaining orderly government in their own established
settlements. The headmanship became the primary office of adminis-
tration in the district of the Santal Parganas in Bihar. As McPhail

punts it, ". . . in every village the headman, elected by the people

36

and not only holding office gg_vitam aui culpam but bequeathing it
to his son, was on a small scale magistrate, police officer, and
revenue collector in one". In each village, where possible, the
man elected as headman was the direct descendant of the "founder
of the village", the headman who had led the village group in their
migration and settlement. This man was designated by the Govern-
ment as the pradhan or mustagir of the village. This gave to the
traditional headman responsibilities for collecting land rents and
taxes, and transmitting them to the government treasury. It for-
malized and gave governmental recognition to the headman's leader-
ship in judicial proceedings whether conducted personally or in
concert with the village councils. It made the headman responsible
for law and order in the village, with the duty to report to the
police forces in the area any disorder or trespass in the village
confines. In these roles we see a new definition of traditional
responsibilities, a formalization and legal recognition of the
implicit roles in Santal society. To preserve the Santal headman
in his status, it was decreed that in all villages defined as
"Santal villages“ the headman must be a Santal in perpetuity. From
the traditional status and administrative role of headman emerged
a more complex role in two spheres, the sphere of the village and
the sphere of the central government.

To protect the economic basis of Santal society, special
regulations in the Santal Parganas governed the transfer of land
rights. It became impossible for a Santal to transfer ownership

(If land to a non-Santal. To establish Santal ownership a

37

thorough-going revenue settlement was carried out by responsible
authorities. Officers toured the villages and in consultation with
village headmen and their councils the rights of Santals in their
lands were carefully examined and injustices of the pre-rebellion
years were corrected. Most of their land was returned to the
original Santal settlers or their heirs. Protection of these rights
became one of the responsibilities of the village headman and his
village council.

The administration established after the rebellion was not
utopian. How the village headman actually operates under this system
will be discussed in another chapter.

Santal society became an "encapsulated" society. The Santals
through their "Hool" appear to have preserved their right to live by
their own traditions and under their own'leadership in a region
they called their own. But it should be understood that this
independence has been far from complete. Instead of calling Santal
society after the rebellion an independent one, it seems more appro-
priate to use Bailey's term, "encapsulated” to describe it. Bailey
uses the term to describe specifically the "political structures"
'which he studied. These structures he found, "partly independent
of, and partly regulated by, larger encapsulating structures" (Bailey
1969:12). In this chapter the term seems applicable to the whole
social life of the Santals. Santal economic structures, for in-
stance, after the rebellion became "partly independent of, and
partly regulated by" the economic processes of surrounding areas.

While Santal peasants did not attempt to isolate themselves from

38

the commerce of British India, they did attempt to retain some power
of Self-determination in their economic decisions. Specifically,
they could retain their ownership of land against all legal and
commercial manipulation. With regard to the more inclusive process
of cultural diffusion it may also be said that the Santal culture
became "partly independent of, and partly regulated by", cultural
developments in the non-Santal world around them. The Santals under
a leadership adequately protected and given broad powers, became
able to resist those aspects of "sanscritizing" and "modernizing"
Indian society which conflict with their own value systems.

The term "encapsulation" is particularly appropriate in
describing the new role of the Santal village headman after the
rebellion. Santal traditions continued to control the headman's
appointment by defining the rules of inheritance and by according
to the village council certain powers of approval or disapproval.
Santal cultural norms determined the type of person selected for
headmanship, and guided the relations between the headman and his
fellow villagers. However, it was by the authorities of British
India that he was given his role as tax collector and "justice of
the peace", and these duties required that he move frequently between
his home village and the offices of government in town centers. He
was "partly independent of, and partly regulated by" the "outer
world" of the government and its system, while he played his tradi-
tional role in the "inner world" of his village.

During the period which followed the rebellion and reor-

ganization, the East India Company was displaced from its control

39

of the Indian Government by the British parliamentary authority.
During the decades--almost a century--of parliamentary control,

the rights of the Santals in the Santal Parganas were stabilized
and became practically the traditional rights of the people. The
role of the Santal village headman, as both traditional headman

and government functionary, came to be accepted as the cultural
norm, especially in the Damin-i-koh where Santal villages dominated
the area. In the pages which follow whenever there is reference

to the "traditional role" of the Santal village headman, it should
be understood that the reference is to the role which emerged in

this period of Santal history.

The Traditional Century

During the period of British parliamentary control in India,
the Santals experienced a number of changes in their environment
but these did not seriously alter the cultural norms and values
relating to village organization and the role of the village head-
man. Notable influences toward change include the extension of
Christian missions into the Santal Parganas and the development of
institutions for secular education in the district. Santals,
including those from the Damin-ilkoh, were given opportunities to
move»out of the village milieu: some enlisted in the army corps
used by the British during the First World War; a good many joined
the movement of labor into the tea plantations of northeast India
and lesser numbers left the village to work on construction crews

for the railway system. These movements out of the village were

4O

usually limited to a few individuals or families. Economically it
was not a period of great prosperity; the Santal continued to find
the products of the market place too attractive for his economy,

and while he could not secure his loans with mortgage contracts

the legal protection given him was not extended to the crops grown

on the land; so usufruct rights were alienated on large acreages

of land, and non-Santals enjoyed the crops of Santal land even though
the ownership of the land was legally out of their reach.

The powers of the Santal village headman to deal with these
changing conditions were limited, and in this period they were not
expanded or enhanced. Individuals were free to leave the village,
though new-comers could be made unwelcome. Village headmen were
not empowered to restrict the work of Christian missionaries, and
some even accepted conversion as will be seen in the following
chapters. Traditional authority of the village headman over the
[youth of his village continued to survive the secularizing of edu-
cation only to a limited degree, but this was largely because
Santal youth made no large-scale rush to institutions of secular

education until the end of the period under discussion.

A Scheduled Tribe
The control of the British Parliament in India ended with
the establishment of Indian independence in the months following
the close of the Second World War. It is in this period of Indian

Independence that this study of the village headman is made.

41

For the Santals, perhaps the most significant event in the
years of independence has been their inclusion in the special
status of "Schedule Tribes" under the provisions of the Indian
Constitution. This has been the direct result of the fact that
the nationalist movement which led to Independence early gave
recognition to the special difficulties of the people called
"aboriginals" by anthropologists and British administrators. The
"aboriginals", like the Santals, had resisted both "sanscritization"
and "islamization" through the pre-British history of India. In
the British period they formed a varied and scattered population
of some twenty millions. Under the British regime they suffered
serious demoralization, much as the Santals suffered and for similar
reasons. The history of the period includes a large number of
uprisings among them, though few such rebellions resulted as favor-
ably for the rebels as the Santal rebellion. The nationalist
leaders gave a new name to the "aboriginals": they called them the
"adibasis"-—original inhabitants. The nationalist movement made
much of the plight of the "adibasis", and promised redress. The
result has been the special legislation for "Scheduled Tribes".

The writers of the Indian Constitution may be said to have
given their formal sanction to the continuance of the "encapsulated"
status of Santal society. However, in practice this constitutional
provision has served to facilitate the movement of Santals as indi-
viduals into the structures of Indian society rather than to preserve
the traditional Santal norms and values. The Santals, like other

"adibasis“, have rights to reserved places in representative bodies

42

and in governmental bureaucracies. They have been given special
consideration when funds have been spent to bring health and edu-
cational facilities into their villages. Their opportunities for
advancement as individuals in various aspects of Indian life have
been protected. But these very efforts to improve conditions of
life have tended to dissipate the authority of the Santal traditions
and substitute outside interests for village-centered participation.
As will be noted in later chapters, the revisions of the organi-
zation of village government, and the establishment of elected
authority in village areas, has required that the Santal village
headman resort to various new relationships especially where tradi-
tional ties have been dissolved. At the same time the Santal
villages of the Damin-i-koh have some serious economic problems

and traditional procedures seem inadequate to improve conditions.
The role of the Santal village headman will be subjected to new
strains in the coming years. The chapters which follow deal with
some of these strains.

In this chapter I have described the emergence of what the
village Santals consider to be "traditional headmanship". This
status carries with it the aura of historic validity along with the
centurywold sanction of the government of India, both under British
rule and after national independence. Given these sanctions, head-
manship is further described in Chapter III as the key role in the
Santal "community" regardless of the ethnic surroundings or alien

intrusions threatening their culture.

CHAPTER III

SANTAL COMMUNITIES: THE VILLAGE
HEADMAN'S LIFE SETTINGS

Introduction: Communities
The role of the headman is enacted on two'levels of com-

munity life. He has a general interest in his ho: disom, the

 

Santal country. His horizons do not extend beyond the borders

of that part of the Indian sub-continent which is the dwelling
place of the Santals. This is the headman's "universe". But his
immediate interests remain in his ato, the village of his juris-
diction.

It is the purpose of this chapter to describe these two
levels of community life. The Santal country can only be dealt
with in general terms, but the village community can be described
in detail.

The village community of the Santals is here represented
by two very different villages. The first is the homogeneous Santal
village of Manjhipur. It is the type of village community which
took shape after the rebellion and continued to be the dominant
fornlof Santal village through what has been labeled the "tradi-
'tional century". The second village is the ethnically hetero-
geneous Dangrajolha, originally Santal and still headed by a
Santal, but now populated by a majority of non-Santals. It

’ 43

44

represents the results of change. The Santal traditional heritage
is maintained in varying degrees of continuity as illustrated by
the single homogeneous village--Manjhipur--and second by only the

Santal community of a heterogeneous village--Dangrajolha.

The hor hopon

 

The Santals have developed a strong sense of ethnic identity
out of their historical experiences. They regard themselves as
special people. Their name for themselves, h9£_hgpgn_(literally:
sons of mankind) carries the implicit meaning, "the true men", the
only really human society. What is here labeled the "community"

of the ho: hopon may be considered the "tribal community" of the

Santals. This use of the term "tribe" indicates a linguistic-
cultural community with a self-conscious feeling of identity as

a people with distinct ethnic and cultural characteristics.

The Santal disom
Closely associated with the hog hopon is the geographical
concept of hog disom (literally: Santal country). A Santal vil-

lager will say, "Noa_go_hor disom kana", meaning, "This is Santal

 

country", and in doing so he makes a distinction between areas
occupied by Santals and areas occupied by other people. Pointing
southeastward toward the delta lowlands where Bengali villages crowd
'the landscape, the Santal will say, "Hana sec' Bangla disom menak'a,"
meaning, "In that direction lies the country of the Bengali people".
Where the villager is somewhat sophisticated about political

boundaries, he may speak of the Santal Parganas district as

45

ho£_disom or even aleak' disom (exclusively our country). However,

 

like the word dash of Sanskritic derivation, the Santali disom
implies a less definitive boundary than modern political and

administrative areas, and it carries greater emotional implications

 

of ethnic identity: the hog disom and the hog hopon_of the Santals
are as intimately related in emotional context as are "land" and
"people" in other areas where ethnic groups have had great struggles
to gain or preserve their lebensraum.

It is a matter of pervasive anxiety among Santals that so

much of the hor disom has fallen into the hands of non-Santals.

 

It troubles them that in many Santal villages non-Santal popu-
lations have been admitted to permanent residence, but it is more
distressing to realize that in some villages even the control of
the Santal headman has been lost. Where a non-Santal has been
appointed, or elected, the village chowdhury (the non-Santal equi-
valent of manjhi--headman), it is generally felt that the village

 

area has ceased to be a part of he: disom. even if Santals are

 

living in the village. The loss of villages to non-Santals has
given a sort of patch-work character to 52E.91§293 Many villagers
do not refer to the Santal Parganas as aleak' disom or even hg£_
1593; only those areas under Santal headmen and Santal village
councils are considered as the components of h_or; m. In this
sense, the control of the village headman constitutes the essential

characteristic of the "Santal Country".

46

Santal Egalitarianism

 

There are several characteristics of the ho£_hopon world

 

which must be described if we are to understand the role of the
village headman. T-e first is the egalitarianism of Santal society.
The words "meti_lgkaf are repeatedly used in all sorts of everyday
situations to indicate that each Santal is "like one" or that
Santals are "all alike" in the sense that there are no differences
in power or status among them. These words often appear in the

sentence, "Sanam hor hopon mit' leka tahenkanako", meaning that

 

"A11 Santals remain alike, true men".

Santal egalitarianism can be seen in several settings.
The clan divisions of this society, examined later, allow no status
distinctions between clans or within clans. When Santals are asked
in what way they are all alike, the reply invariably is, "Paris

menak'talea ar_aran menak'talea" (we have our clans and we all have

 

a voice).

The village councils must give to each head of household
an equal voice and permit free access to the discussions of the
village elders by any regular member of the village community.
Even the village headman cannot be regarded as more than "primus
inter pares", first among equals. His home and his holdings are
not noticeably superior to those of many of his fellow villagers.
His dress and manners are those of the common man in Santal society.
Although headmanship is traditionally inherited by the eldest son,
he must be sanctioned by his fellow villagers who compose the

village council. Even if there are no rivals to his election his

47

appointment to headmanship must be accompanied by the voiced agree-
ment of the village as a whole. As will be examined in a later
section, the paris, which I label exogamous clans allow no dis-
tinctions of status among them. The oral traditions and the observed
practices in the village today repeatedly emphasize an egalitarian
ideology.

Differences with respect to land-holdings, acreage under
cultivation, the number of cattle kept by a family, and elected
positions held by household members are manifest in Santal com-
munities today. However, these differences have little reference
to power or the lack of it in the decision-making processes in the
village. The effective authority in the village is exerted by the
village council in which every household is represented by its head,
who is free to exert through persuasion and compromise a power not
related to wealth or political station.

Santal egalitarianism appears to be one of the most effective
boundary maintaining mechanisms by which they preserve their identity
and distinctiveness in the face of the aggressively assimilating
influences of the pan-Indian culture around them. Every Santal
villager is conscious of the fact that loss of Santal identity means
the loss of social status. Absorption into a non-Santal community
carries the threat of sub-ordination into a disadvantaged inferior

caste.

Respect for Seniority
Among the ho: hopon a second generalized principle is the

ritualized recognition of seniority. Early in the process of

48

enculturation, every Santal child learns the respectful gesture

called dobok' johar. It is the universal expression of respect for

 

seniority. Every younger person must bow low when approaching any-
one who is older, even if the elder is an age-mate only a few days
older. At times chronological age is subordinated to what may be
called "status seniority": this most frequently occurs when the
village headman inherits his office early in life so that he is
chronologically younger than most of the elders of his village;

in such cases the respect due to status as village headman super-
cedes chronological status. This type of exception does not diminish
the high regard accorded seniority wherever it is met.

The dobok' johar gesture made by males differs somewhat
from the gesture appropriate to females. The younger male (or male
ascribed to a junior status) usually places his open left hand
under his right elbow and in a coordinated action extends his
right forearm forward towards his elder with his right hand cupped
and his head bowed. The younger female simply bows from the waist
before the elder with hands pointed down and lowered to within
inches of the ground. The younger person uses the same gesture

whether the elder person is male or female.

Dobok' johar involves reciprocal gestures from the elders

 

recognizing the respectful junior's approach. Here again there is
some difference between the responses of males and those of females.
The elder male (or male ascribed to a senior status) recognizes the
younger person by merely extending the right arm outwards somewhat

perpendicular to his body and towards the younger person,

49

simultaneously opening his hand from a half-closed to a palm-open
gesture. The palm is then gradually turned downwards. The elder
female recognizes the approach of a respectful junior by extending
both arms outward towards the younger person. The hands are open
with palms upward. The hands are then drawn inwards towards the
body, as though the elder woman is gently beckoning the younger
towards her, with a smooth gradual motion of hands and fingers.

Santals give a specific meaning to each of these gestures.
They say that the younger woman's gestures mean that she is pre-
senting herself to serve the senior she respects.‘ The younger male
presents himself to the senior with the expectation that he will be
given a blessing. The gesture of the elder male is one implying
that a blessing is meant for the junior. The elder woman's gestures
invite the junior to come into her presence.

These gentle, respectful and silent forms of greeting are.
used at every ceremonial occasion or whenever guests or relatives

are received in the courtyard of the household. The dobok' johar

 

is used regardless of the relationship between the persons greeting
each other, whether it be a joking, respectful or avoidance rela-
tionship.

The Santal dobok' johar is unique in its form; no other

 

people in the area use these symbolic gestures. They serve as a
manifest act of Santal identification; there is no mistaking the
presence of Santals where there is an exchange of dobok' johar.

When a Santal uses the gestures, he is proclaiming his membership

in EEK hopon, even as he is emphasizing the Santal principle of

50

respect for seniority. An example of this symbol of identity was
given during a visit by a member of the Government of India to the
Damin-i-koh area in 1970. Mr. Kisku, a Santal serving in the national

cabinet, still regarded himself a member of the ho§_hopon. During

 

his visit among the villagers he did not fail to perform with
appropriate gestures of dobak' johar, and although the headman of
the village of his ancestors was his junior, Mr. Kisku accorded him
his "status seniority" with the appropriate gesture.

The Santal villagers are conscious of their minority status
in the Damin-i-koh. They are aware of being encapsulated in a
society which threatens assimilation. The repeated use of the gpppkl
jphar_serves to emphasize the principle of respect for seniority
as a basic ingredient of membership in h9§_hopgn, The often re-
peated symbolization of respect, along with the constant reiteration
of the egalitarian principles, serve as manifest indications of

Santalness and hg£_hopon "community".

 

The Village Community)

The Santal villagers live in nuclear village communities
not unlike the agricultural settlements of most premodern peasant
societies. In the following section two aspects of village organ-
ization are presented. In the first the physical arrangements of
the village are described. In the second the social interaction
patterns of the village are described.

Village boundaries in the Damin-i-koh were fixed at the

time of the revenue settlements made soon after the rebellion,

51

though some revisions were made at subsequent settlements. The
total acreage included within the village boundaries varies from
village to village: one village near the communities of this study
has only 44 acres, another has 644 acres.

As in many parts of the world and almost everywhere in
India, the village in the country of the Santals is thought to
include three distinct (though not necessarily contiguous) areas.
At the center of the village forming a sort of "nucleus" in the
"cell-like" body of the village, the residential area includes the
residences of the people, their stables and their storehouses. The
fields cultivated by the people form a second area and woodlots of
the village (together with whatever ponds and streams may be found
in the village area) form a third part of the village territory.
The proportion of the total village acreage given to these three
types of village land varies, though traditionally every village
is supposed to reserve at least 15% of its acreage for free grazing
of all animals in the village.

The organization of the administration in the Santal Parganas
after the rebellion gave to the indigenous headman and his council
the right to control the use of space in the area allotted to reSi-
dences, stables and storehouses. Agnatic kinsmen of those who*were
granted residential sites in the village at the time of the first
revenue settlement have permanent rights to reside in the area, and
freedom to expand their dwellings and other structures. Their
offspring or members of the patriline are allowed to join existing

households virtually without question. On the other hand, strangers,

52

either Santals or non-Santals, must obtain special permission from
the headman and the village council before they can establish
residence inside the village boundaries at any time. After a stranger
has been permitted to reside in the village, the same rights are
accorded him to expand residence and other structures, and close
kinsmen are freely allowed to join him. When local residents holding
fields in the area of cultivation bring in Santal employees who do
not have land holdings, the outsiders--though Santals-~must reside

on the land held by their employer. Other rights to village re-
sources, such as the right to graze cattle on the common lands,

are given to landless employees only specifically and under limit-
ing conditions: their freedom to use these resources remains under
the constant scrutiny of the village elders.

The distribution of buildings in the residential area of a
homogeneous Santal village is shown in the residential map (p 53) of
the village of Manjhipur. The residential pattern will be seen to
have a linear form with three distinguishable lines of houses. The
largest number of residences are located on the two sides of the
road running towards Dangrajholla. This line of houses is known
as Marang Tolla. The Anga Tolla has only ten houses lining the
road to Rampur. The eight houses of Nahum Tolla form a line on a
road circling the threshing floor and connecting the road to Rampur
with the road to the market town of Hartjuri.

The residential units of these three "tollas" each contain
an assortment of structures which may well be called a homestead.

In some cases two or more residences are built around a courtyard

53

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"mpmum

 

 

  

Np .p
.pv m. P mmmuw
’0 ¢_. :. N KT OA-
5 m c
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mm em
9 S a NN mm 3
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54

to house a large joint family. All households have some sort of
stable for animals and a place for the storage of ploughs, tools
and food grains.

Serving the residents are three wells for the large Marang
Tolla, one well for the smaller Anga Tolla. The residents of
Nohum Tolla must carry water from one or another of the other wells
in the village, or, when rains are plentiful, from one of the two
tanks (or ponds) on the edges of the residential area. A large
threshing floor lies between the two smaller tollas and provides
space for the primitive threshing process of village farmers.

The sites for household dwelling in the residential area
cannot be purchased. The right to a homestead site is inherited
or granted by special action of the village council and the headman.
This is also the procedure in adjacent non-Santal villages, as it
is in most of rural India.

In Santal villages one small area in the residential sector
is especially reserved, the area directly in front of the headman's
house. Every traditional Santal village maintains a rectangular mud

covered platform known as the manjhi than (headman's sacred place).

 

The manjhi than symbolizes the traditional authority of the village

 

founder, the first headman. It is thg_place set apart from all
others, where, on certain auspicious occasions, the headman leads
in the worship of ancestral spirits. From this place many village
festivals begin. A single smooth stone appears in the middle

toward the east end of the manjhi than. This phalic symbol, as

 

55

well as the entire structure, is kept clean and remains protected
from any use other than that of religious ritual.

The appearance and distribution of dwellings in the
heterogeneous village of Dangrajolha is somewhat different from
that of Manjhipur. In many respects it reflects the pattern of
non-Santal Hindu villages located nearby (p 56).

In the first place, the village is much larger than Manjhipur
and although the dwellings present a linear pattern built on both
sides of the main village street, there are three smaller tollas
occupied by either different caste groups or different ethnic groups.

In the second place, non-residential uses of the residential
area of Dangrajolha have multiplied. Whereas in Manjhipur only
stables and storehouses are associated with the residential struc-
tures, in Dangrajolha many of the homes of the Sha community have
' been altered to permit the operation of retail outlets offering
local supplies of oil, grain, flour, soap and such manufactured
items from outside as kerosene lanterns, aluminum pots and tea ket-
tles. Several of these local retailers also function as money-
lenders. A small branch post office has been set up, attached to
a Sha house.

The Hindus of the village, under the guidance of associated
Brahmin families, have erected a small Kali temple on the north edge
of the village; the Muslims have established a mosque; and a segment
of the Santal population which has converted to Christianity has,
\with the assistance of Roman Catholic missionary tutors, built a

church behind the village headman's house. The small church also

56

 

 

    
  
    

c7;
s<

wells
Santals
Brahmins
Hindu Shas
Hindu Kumars
Doms

Muslims

ZUXIWU’Z

 

 

 

Map No. 3.--The Village of Dangrajolha

57

serves as a three grade school taught in Santali. The Shas have
built a school near the Kali temple and invited the government to
appoint a teacher. A Sha teacher from Dangrajolha runs this recog-
.nized government school of five grades which is taught exclusively
in Hindi.
The appearance of the village has been further changed by
the type of traffic in and out of its borders. The Shas buy and
sell grain in addition to the seeds from which they press oils. It
is common to see strings of small horses carrying large grain bags
down the road. The Muslims of the village Operate two wheeled pony
carts, both in connection with their weaving enterprises and as a
regular public "taxi" service carrying as many as six passengers
at a time. The strings of pack horses, the pony carts, the ubiqui-
tous oxcarts, and numerous pedestrians compose a scene comparatively
alien to a traditional Santal village. Many residents of Dangrajolha
own bicycles, whereas only four bicycles are found in all of Manjhipur.
The housing in Dangrajolha has features different from that
of the typical Santal village. In Manjhipur all houses have walls
of sun-baked mud and roofs of thatching grass. Only three or four
of the forty-four dwellings have brick-tile roofs. Dangrajolha's
non-Santal residents have managed to acquire some metal roofs for
their houses as well as having a larger proportion of tile roofs
mixed among the thatched. Even the mud and thatch dwellings among
the non-Santals differ in appearance from those built in the Santal
manner. The Santals usually build thicker mud walls and give their

thatched roofs a different contour that emphasizes the wide verandah

 

 

 

   
   
 

not usually

yards, althou

between the h
geneous villa
the coupon la
the same.

The r
gather fuel 0
is accorded t
Damin-i-koh h
the obvious a
tion of minim

The c
”Vite owner
VIIIage elder
0f time that

PIOts. Most 0

earthen rIdges
and retainers
The land Cult,-
into one area;

the pal‘chs 0W

 

scattered In t

58

not usually found on non-Santal houses. The verandahs and court-
yards, although entirely coated with clay plaster, appear strikingly
neat and cleaner than those of most non-Santals. The contrast is
quite apparent. Although there is a great difference in appearance
between the homogeneous Santal village of Manjhipur and the hetero-
geneous village of Dangrajolha, the management of the fields and

the common lands around the two residential centers remains much

the same.

The right to graze cattle on the village commons or to
gather fuel or building material in the woodlot of both villages
is accorded to the villagers without fee. Grazing areas in the
Damin-i-koh have been permitted to deteriorate. Over-grazing and
the obvious absence of management have left these areas in a condi-
tion of minimal productivity.

The cultivable areas of both villages are closely held in
private ownership. The tax-free acres of the headman and other
village elders are held by a single owner over such long periods
of time that even this "public land" is treated as a private estate.
The fields of the village form a highly irregular "montage" of small
plots. Most of the land is used for wet-rice cultivation, and the
earthen ridges between plots serVe both as boundaries of ownership
land retainers for irrigation water necessary for flooding the fields.
'The land cultivated by any one household is seldom consolidated
into one area: fragmentation of holdings has been extensive, and
'the parcels owned by a household are more than likely to be found

scattered in two or three areas. This fragmentation is partly due

59

to the general practice in rural India of dividing property equally
between all male heirs and partly to the need for holding different
types of soil permitting the cultivation of different food products
in a subsistence economy. In Manjhipur most land-owning households
have such a variety of small plots which compose a total of only
three to five acres per household. Each family aspires to have a
share of the richer land in the village area.
Patterns of Interaction in Two

Types of Villages

The differences between the typical homogeneous Santal
village of Manjhipur and the heterogeneous village of Dangrajolha
in physical arrangements and appearance are associated with even
more striking differences in the patterns of social interaction in
the two villages. Though these two villages are contiguous, with
coterminouS' boundaries along one sector, the history of the two
villages and their social organization present significant contrasts
to this study.

The social relations in Manjhipur are normally governed by
the traditional social institutions of paris, gutia, bfis, gharonj
and garjs, by the traditional authorities of village headman,
village council, and by the typical Santal cultural themes of
egalitarianism and ritualized respect for seniority.

How Dangrajolha became a socially heterogeneous village
involves historical events which are no longer recoverable for the
most part. The intrusion of non-Santal elements into the village

represents a process which presents a potential threat to Santal

6O

society, a threat of serious proportions. The difference in the
social interaction patterns reveals what happens when a Sental
community succumbs to large scale assimilating influences. It also
indicates the nature of Santal defense mechanisms against assimi-
lation and Santal adjustments to alien cultures.

Manjhipur represents what the Santals refer to as aleakL
atg_(exclusively our village) and their interactions are those of
a people who find no distraction from following their traditional
relationships. The basic principle underlying interaction is
expressed in the term ato_§agaj_(village oneness) which affirms a
kinship-like unity among all inhabitants.

Varying degrees of freedom in social interaction are evident
in the homogeneous Santal village. These degrees of freedom can
be observed between the members of a single household or a pg;
(lineage) kinship as well as in interaction between acquaintances
from different villages. They are most frequently observed in
intra-village relationships which occur during calendrical or life-
cycle events.

Three types of relationship are recognized in Santal social

terminology: landa sagai, manao and erer. It is somewhat difficult

 

to equate these terms with terms commonly used in anthropological
literature, because variations are often subtle and not clearly
classifiable.

Nevertheless, the landa sagai type of relationship is very

 

similar to the "joking relationship" described by A. R. Radcliffe-

Brown (1965:90). In this type of interaction there is maximum

61

freedom of self expression, to play "practical jokes", come into
actual physical contact, and to offer differences of opinion.

At the other extreme, the Santali term erer is very similar

 

in meaning to the concept of "avoidance behavior." The word erer
indicates the practice of literally “turning aside from direct
encounter with some one". People in this avoidance relationship

will make the gesture of dobok' johar only in the presence of others;

 

if they meet alone they turn aside and make no indication of recog-
nizing each other's presence.
The term mano refers to interaction patterns intermediate

between the freedom of landa sagai and the reticence of erer. The

 

term mang_means paying respect, honoring or carrying out the wishes
of another person. There are a number of kinsmen, including affines,
with whom an individual observes neither a joking relationship nor
an avoidance relationship; their interaction is referred to as

mapag, one of respect.

Pragmatically, it is evident that even these three types of
interaction fail to indicate the real complexity of choices available
in Santal society. Actual behavior ranges over a long continuum of
slight variation from extreme freedom to extreme reticence; it is
possible to recognize forms of interaction which may be placed along
a continuum including Free Joking, Normal Joking, Respectful Joking,
Normal Respectfulness, Respectful Avoidance, Normal Avoidance and
Strict Avoidance. Further distinction of types is not necessary
here, but it might be done to emphasize the fact that there are

numerous shades of freedom and reticence in Santal interaction to

 

 

 

which the tre
ences do not
the behavior
they indicatfi
mine relatior
Tables which
females and t

marriage. In

 

 

 

kinship is a
consanguine 0
Village mates

The h

his village m
action. Ther
Others With h
maid Whom 1
course, the r
the Extremes
those Who do

The p

as those desc

62

which the traditional Santal is extremely sensitive. These differ-
ences do not suggest a hierarchy of statuses; there is nothing in
the behavior which might imply superiority or inferiority. Rather,
they indicate distance of kinship and other factors which deter-
mine relationships. The Appendix 8 (pp 291-293) contains three
Tables which summarize the expected behavior of young males or
females and the expected behavior of male and female adults after
marriage. In all expected interactive behavior, the element of
kinship is a central concern, and whether the kinship be affinal,
consanguine or fictive (and ascribed), the relationship between
village mates assumes kinship as its basis.

The headman of the village is subject, as much as any of
his village mates, to the same differences of freedom in inter-
action. There are those with whom he can and must be free and
others with whom he will and must be reticent, with still others
toward whom he must observe a medium attitude of respect. Of
course, the respect due the headman from his people tends to limit
the extremes of freedom or reticence found in interactions between
those who do not carry the aura of headmanship:

The patterns of interaction in Dangrajolha remain the same
as those described above in the Santal community, but the village
as a whole reflects quite different interpersonal relationships.
Prior to the last revenue settlement made in 1918, several house-
holds of Hindi-speaking Shas, oil-pressers by caste and Hindus by
socio-religious background, obtained the right to establish resi-

dence in Dangrajolha. At about the same time a few families of

 

 

 

Bengali-spea
rights. The

tial rights

   
    
   
 
  
 

Santal villa:
their number
lation have
introduce a
temple, thre
function as
Potion, some
of Domes who
barbers and

wives for th

Abou

3” “garded
of their fabr
DOrt ent9t‘pri
The h

been V'Cl‘ease
inclining the
ministry of R
that tho Feli
relationships

63

Bengali-speaking Muslim weavers, called Jolhas, had gained the same
rights. The details of the financial transactions by which residen-
tial rights were accorded to these non-Santals in a traditionally
Santal village are not recorded. Since their admission to residence,
their numbers have grown and their proportions of the village popu-
latiOn have expanded. The Hindu oil-pressers have been able to
introduce a Brahmin priest into the village to tend their Kali
temple, three families of Pandets who claim Brahmin descent and
function as writers, several Kumars of the blacksmith caste occu-
pation, some Rajwars who are landless laborers, and three families
of Domes who by inheritance serve the Hindu homes as sweepers,
barbers and field laborers. A few of the Dome women act as mid-
wives for the women of the Sha households. With these caste—groups
included, the Hindu population of Dangrajolha amounts to 65% of the
village census.

About 15% of the population of Dangrajolha are Muslims,
all regarded as weavers by occupation, though the transportation
of their fabrics to markets near and far have led them into trans-
port enterprises.

The heterogeneity of Dangrajolha's social components has
been increased by the conversion of a number of Santal families,
including that of the village headman, to Christianity under the
ministry of Roman Catholic missionaries. Regardless of the fact
that two religious groups exist within the Santal community, the

relationships continue on the basis of kinship and ato_sagai

 

rather than being overtly strained because of religious difference.

64

Neither Christians nor non-Christians practice sectarian endogamy;
inter-marriage is relatively unhindered. Other social relations
such as the exchange of guests on festive occasions, commensality
and the exchange of services among neighbors is unrestricted.
Interaction between Santals and non-Santals is mostly
confined to economic and political activities. Other forms of
social contact are minimized. To the Pandets and the Shas the
Santals are a special type of outcaste whose ritual status is
highly impure because they eat all types of meat, drink rice wine
and liquor, conduct public dancing in mixed groups (i.e. male and
female), practice widow remarriage, and generally disregard other
taboos necessary to Hindu purity. They are consequently untouch-
able. Contact between the servant castes of the Hindu communit --
the blacksmiths and the Domes--and the Santals takes place somewhat
more freely. These menials are sometimes employed for their services
by the Santals, but social interaction of any type is highly reticent.
Conflict over control of land has polarized the dominant
Hindu Shas and the Santals. The Santals do not try to hide resent-
ment and distrust toward the Shas. The Shas appear to have one
predominant interest in the Santals; their desire to gain possession
of whatever Santal land becomes available. The interest of the
Santals in the Hindu way of life is minimal. They seem to enjoy
watching the Hindu festivals, but remain confined to the role of
spectators.
The relations between the Santals and the Bengali-speaking

weavers are less reticent, but again most interaction is confined

65
to economic and political activities. In many parts of the world
Muslim polygynists tend to marry freely, usually as minor wives,
the women of other communities. In Dangrajolha the strong emphasis
. among the Santals upon ethnic endogamy has made marriage with
Muslims impossible except in rare cases.
The Santals of Dangrajolha continue to practice ethnic

endogamy and paris exogamy; they retain the use of their own language

in all their affairs; they identify with ho£_hopon and the ho£_disom;

 

they cling to their egalitarianism and the ritualized symbols de-
picting their respect for seniority while being governed by a
hereditary headman and the council of household heads. It is a
solid ethnic community in the face of the multiple non-traditional
influences which have intruded upon the village. In spite of the
interests of some of its members in the traditions of the Christian
faith, the Santal community has been drawn together increasingly by
the threats of change to the traditions of their ancestors.

Although no ritual is held which absolutely requires the
headman to act as the principle performer, several of the traditional
rituals incorporate the headman's participation in significant
roles. Since the headman of Dangrajolha has converted to Christi-
anity other village elders are chosen to perform the headman's role
in non-Christian rituals. The Santal community has produced a unique
personality who is especially suited for this position; this old man
acts as the guardian of tradition with intensity and commitment.

Rather than being assimilated into the "Hinduistic" system

the Santals of Dangrajolha adapt as a community, bound together

 

 

 

66

by their time-tested culture, in the same manner demonstrated in
the homogeneous village of Manjhipur.

One of the key elements of Santal life is their well-
preserved political tradition. In Chapter IV the familiar
political arenas are discussed while emphasizing the village

headman's syndrome of roles at the heart of political life.

CHAPTER IV

THE POLITICAL ARENAS_0F THE
SANTAL VILLAGE HEADMAN

Introduction: The Instrumentalities

The Santal village headman is a functionary of central
importance in the political order of his society. Indeed, his
performance in the "political arenas" constitutes the most important,
most visible, and most demanding aspect of the headmanship. The
political system in which he performs may be described as one based
on several distinct instrumentalities. While these instrumentali-
ties are interrelated they usually form the basis of the political
arenas in which the headman in destined to participate by definition
of his office. These instrumentalities will be described after
some generalizations are formulated.

The first four instrumentalities are characteristic of
Santal society; they are traditional elements of political struc-
tures indigenous to the social system. They are (l) the household
in its village setting; (2) the village council made up of house-
hold heads; and (3) the administrative elders including the head-
man himself. A fourth element in traditional political life was
(4) the Pargana assembly with its chief officer, the parganic'.

This instrumentality no longer exists among the Santals.

67

 

 

 

 

 

 

Indi
ment
the
the
demo
tive

effe

poli
lish
admh
stru
Sant
thro
90ve
At t.
must

this

more
ment:
humar
power
to th

the V

68

The last two instrumentalities are characteristic of pan-
Indian polity; they exist by the authority of the national Govern-
ment. (5) The Sub-Divisional administration has been operating in
the Damin-i-koh since the Santal Rebellion of 1855. (6) Since 1950,
the Indian Government has introduced an instrumentality of rural
democracy--the new Panchayat system--with a new set of administra-
tive offices which will be described with some notes on the likely
effect of this innovation upon the Santals.

There are basic differences between the traditional
political elements of Santal society and the governmentally estab—
lished instrumentalities. The general purpose of the Sub-Divisional
administration and the new panchayat system, like all national
structures, attempts to bring the conduct of government in the
Santal area into coordination with the governmental processes
throughout the country; this is the universalizing principle of
government which aspires toward efficiency and equal opportunity.
At the same time, a special concern for local and ethnic concerns
must be preserved in national government, and in the Santal area
this specializing principle has required particular emphasis.

The traditional elements of Santal polity have had a far
more personal character than the bureaucratic structures of Govern-
ment, and have been concerned less with legal consistency than with
human adjustments and adaptations. For the Santals the idea that
power may be used to coerce conformity is both foreign and abhorrent
to their value system. The decisions of either the village elders,

the village council or the household head in his family setting

69

must always be reached openly and for the common good of each member
in the groups concerned. Concensus, rather than coercion, is the
basic goal of traditional Santal polity. Such a relegation of power
to a very minor role in political life is possible only in a rural
society with highly effective and customary controls achieved
through enculturation rather than legislation. It would seem to

be impossible in a highly plural society like that of the Indian
sub-continent. Among the Santals, life seems to be at its best
when they deal with political power in traditional ways.

Santal experience, preserved orally until recent times but
110w given literate record in the village headman's journals, indi-
<:ates that the unwritten rules of society have been continually
(:hallenged by the pragmatic acts of individuals and groups. Never-
theless, three characteristics seem to pervade the whole system in
a: manner which may provide the key to Santal survival in modern
itimes as in the past: (1) Each organizational element in the Santal
structures is responsible for, and exercises authority over, its
members, displaying a certain degree of autonomy within the entire
System; (2) Each organizational element recognizes an elder member
aS its coordinating agent and final authority, whose role it is to
assure the pursuit of morality and the equality of rights and

responsibilities as defined by the hapramko a_k_' dustur (traditions

 

(>f’ the ancestors); (3) The members of each element act as a counter-
balancing body of authority, modifying the power of the head-person
1'1 the group; this third characteristic serves to preserve the

eQalitarian principle of Santal society which awards equal rights

70

to each participating member of the community, never surrendering
absolute power to any head, whether of the household, the village
or the pargana.

One further generalization should be made before proceeding
to the description of the various political elements among the
Santals. It concerns the importance of the village headman's role.
The entire system seems to revolve around the headman. He is the
professional directly responsible for the smooth operation of the
system: trained from childhood in the household of his headman
'father amid the continual activities of his father's role, acquiring
in this setting a profound commitment from his heritage to the
‘traditions of the Santal people, he is, at the same time, economi-
<:ally supported for his work by the special grant of tax-free use

()f the "headman's land" of the village.

The instrumentalities of Santal polity may now be described.

The Household

In Santal polity, the household is the basic unit, con-
trolling the social behavior of its members and the use of land in
'Itzs possession. The eldest male in the household has authority
Over all the members of the household, but he recognizes the indi-
V1 dual rights and desires of each individual member, especially
those of the other adult males in the household. As household
head he is expected to make economic and political decisions, but
these must always, at least ideally, be made in consultation with

the other adult males of the household. He has final authority in

71

matters concerning kinship relations and ties; he is the leader in
ritual and festivals outside the homestead. Finally, as household

head he is the formal representative of the household and its members

in the village council.

The Village_Council
Every homogeneous Santal village, like Manjhipur, is governed
by a village council consisting of the household heads of the

village. In meetings of the council, the kulhi durup', each member

 

of the council has the right to voice his opinions, claims and
complaints and to exercise a single vote in all decisions of the
council.

The council meets at the call of the headman of the village
whenever a matter is brought to his attention which he regards as
serious enoughto warrant a meeting. Meetings of the kulhi durup'
are usually held in the late afternoon or evening, except in the
case of emergencies. It is important that all household heads be
present at every meeting of the council, and therefore the time of
Ineeting is set when men can attend who have duties in their fields
or'at the weekly market during the daylight hours. The kulhi durup'
usually meets in a clearing at the end of the village street, in a
well known place readily accessible to all. The meeting can be
called at the request of any person in the village, provided they
have a complaint or charge, a claim or proposal, some matter which
calls for council decision. The decisions of the council control 6
all social behavior in the village, all use of lands owned by the

\rillagers, all matters governed by the traditions of the Santals.

72

At meetings of the village council the mahjhi (headman)
is the presiding authority. His position of final arbiter at
council meetings is based on his responsibility as guardian of
the traditions of the ancestors. Though he controls only one vote
in the council, his own, he exercises extensive influence in the
decision-making process because his opinions generally conform to
traditional understandings of village life and village values.

Santals revere the hapramko ak' dustur and it is ever the

 

purpose of the headman to guide discussion in the council meetings
towards a consensus of understanding and decision which are in line
with the ancestral traditions. After a matter has been discussed
at length in a council meeting, the headman calls for definitive
decision from its members. Ideally this decision should represent
a complete concensus of opinion, but in reality deliberations seldom
reach a complete agreement. However, in most matters village
councils, like that at Manjhipur where traditional standards continue
to dominate, reach decisions with the support of very strong majori-
ties. I

In a village like Dangrajolha, in which the population is
divided into several ethnic groups, village government must go
‘through much adjustment, yet the fact that Dangrajolha was designated
a "Santal village" in the organization of the area after the "Hool"
has preserved certain features of the Santal system.

In the first place, the regulations of the Santal Parganas
as a "non-regulation district" provided that the headman of the

'village which had been defined as a Santal village must always be

73

a Santal, inheriting his position in the paternal line and confirmed
in his rights by the village council and the Sub-Divisional Officer
in the Government system. The headman of Dangrajolha is a Santal
whose position has been protected by these regulations, though the
Santals are today a minority in the village with decreasing economic
power and limited political power outside their own community.

As the recognized "pradhan" or "mustagir" the Santal head-
man of Dangrajolha collects taxes from all the people, performs
the necessary police duties for the whole village, and has control
of all village records of land holdings. He cannot therefore be
ignored by the majority population of non-Santals.

The village council of the Santals, however, has not been
granted statutory supervision of non-Santal affairs. In Dangrajolha
the decisions of the Santal village council govern only the affairs
of the Santal population. Each of the other ethnic groups--the
Muslim weavers and the Hindus of all castes--have had to organize
their own ethnic councils to deal with matters of concern within
their respective ethnic groups. The Hindus, moreover, have had to
resort from time to time to the use of caste councils to deal with
inatters specifically governed by caste traditions and morals within
the ethnic group. Ethnic and caste councils are strictly limited
in their powers and procedures to the members of the groups they
represent.

For matters concerning the whole village of Dangrajolha,
it has been necessary from time to time to call into conference

'the leaders of the ethnic groups to constitute an inter-ethnic

74

council. These instrumentalities have no basis in tradition or in
governmental regulations, and are therefore forced to resort to
improvisations and expedients of various kinds, most of them borrow-
ings from one source or another. The government of India has not
undertaken any effort to give regulation to inter-ethnic councils,
because it is expected that the new panchayat system, described
below, will sooner or later function as such a council where hetero—

geneity of population needs some new instrumentality.

The Administrative Elders

The village council is not only convened at the call of
the headman, its proceedings are under his guidance for he is its
presiding officer, and the enforcement and execution of its decisions
are his responsibility. This makes him, in reality, the chief
administrator of the village. As such, his responsibilities are
so varied and numerous that assistance must be given him, and
tradition has made provision for this assistance in a form pecul-
iarly suited to the Santal preference for egalitarianism. According

to hapramko ak' dustur, there are seven designated administrative

 

elders who are given authority for the conduct of village affairs.
'They are, (l) the Manjhi, the headman himself; (2) the Paranic',
the first assistant who assists in matters related to the use of
land; (3) the Jog paranic', or second assistant of the headman;

04) the Jog Manjhi, or assistant in charge of the morals of youth

 

arui adults; (5) the Naeke, the village priest or ritualist; (6) the

M59352. the assistant priest, and (7) the Godet, the village

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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75

messenger. Not all villages make use of all seven officers; the
number actually working in a village depends partly on the size of
the village, and partly on the number of calls upon their services.
Ultimately, the number of elders is decided upon by the headman in
consultation with the village council.

Each of these officers is a man of importance in his own

 

right in the village. Each is an elder of the village, and, as
head of his own household, a full member of the village council.
Village elders hold their position throughout their lifetime, un-
less the council adjudges an individual to be morally corrupt or
physically unable to continue his duties. Because the duties of
each of these administrative elders are rather clearly understood
in the traditions of the Santals, each man tends to perform his
duties independently. The assistants are not underlings, or tools
in the power of the headman; however, they are responsible to both
the headman and the village council.

Life-time tenure for such officers might mean that they
could aCcumulate through time inordinate power over their village
fellows, but this does not happen. In the first place, they do not
form an administrative clique intent on consolidating power; occa-
sional consultation between the headman and one or more of the
officers takes place as specific administrative duties necessitate,
but the villagers are not hospitable to the kind of secrecy required
'to give a group the opportunity to work together against the wishes
(If the whole community. In the second place, the frequency of

<:ouncil meetings and the continued effectiveness of egalitarian g

76

expectations serve to counter-balance any tendency towards the
accumulation of power in the hands of any one of the administrative
elders or any combination thereof. An additional check on the
powers of the headman comes from the supervisory position of the
Sub-Divisional Officer, representing the Government, who actually
appoints the headman to his duties as pradhan and mustagir of the
village; this appointment must be repeatedly confirmed every few
years, and every headman is desirous of ensuring re-appointment which
necessitates the maintenance of good relations with his village
people who are always free to take complaints against him to both
the village council and to the Sub-Divisional Officer.

At this point a somewhat analytic examination of the nature
of the headman's specific role, as a part of the Santal political
system is appropriate. The Santal village headman may be character-
ized as (l) the Pradhan, or officer directly responsible for govern-
Inent concerns in the village, (2) A sympgl_of Santal values and
traditions, and (3) both an authority and a leader among the people
of his village.

The office of Pradhan is a creation of the administrative
authority of the national Government, and the duties related to the
office are defined in government regulations. However, it is the
practice of the Sub-Divisional Officer to define specifically the
Inajor areas of responsibility in written form when appointing, or
confirming the appointment of a village headman. A typical state-
Inent is found in the appointment papers of the current headman of

Manjhipur. According to this statement, the headman must:

77

1. Pay an annual government rent (property tax) of 418 rupees
(ahhut %55) in behalf of the raiyats (landholders) of the
v1 age.

2. Collect the annual rent from the raiyats at the fixed
government rate, according to the class of land. Any
over-assessment collected will be a violation punishable
by the 5.0.0. (Sub-divisional Officer). A proper commission
will be paid to the headman for the collection of the
revenue from the raiyats when the full amount is turned
over to the revenue authorities.

. Guard the boundaries of the village from encroachment by

outsiders.

Prevent the felling of the trees shown on the village map.

Perform police duties prescribed by government.

Perform any additional duties which the government may

prescribe.

OUT-h w

The collection of tax revenues is a primary concern of
government. The headman is responsible for collecting a specific
amount of revenue. This total amount is, of course, the sum of
taxes due from each parcel of land in the village area, for each
parcel is classified, evaluated and assessed a specific amount.

The process of assessment is carried out at the time of the revenue
settlement.

The tax must be paid by the owner of the parcel in a monetary
payment, not in kind, and therefore the need for cash is introduced
into the subsistence economy of the village. It also requires
agencies for marketing agricultural products, providing the village
swith cash funds for the payment of taxes. Santals in general have
no cultural institution for preparing individuals to perform the
commercial and banking operations needed to meet the demand for
taxes, and certainly the headman, with his commitment to traditional
patterns, has little interest in providing the necessary services.

(Where an occasional headman--like the headman of Dangrejolha--attempts

78

enterprise in the commercial realm, the results are seldom satis-
factory.)

In the early administration of the East India Company, land
taxes were regarded as "rent", and the collector of land "rent"
was treated as a landlord, a "zaminder", responsible for paying
the government its revenue but not limited in the "rental" charged
of the cultivator. Such a system created great hardship and social
disorder in areas where the system was established, and provided a
major impetus to the Santal Rebellion. The whole configuration of
concepts involved in the headmanship in Santal society stands in
opposition to the equation of the headman with the "land lord" or
"zamindar" of non-Santal societies. The headman certainly has
responsibility for the collecting of annual revenues due the govern—
ment, but it is clearly understood that this responsibility is purely
a "trustee" responsibility. The government can rightfully claim
its revenue and the pradhan's duty is simply to carry through the
operations by which the householders of the village pay their
respectful duties to the government.

The pradhan is compensated for his efforts. A percentage
of the revenue is paid to him for the costs of collection. The
compensation is paid only after all revenues are turned into the
governmental treasury at the Sub-divisional center. In practice,
it is expected that some loss will be inevitable, and the headman's
explanation of unpaid amounts is given due consideration. In times
of deficient harvests, remission of taxes is most necessary, and

the Sub-Divisional Officers in the "non-regulation" district of the

79

Santal Parganas have powers to grant these remissions with a freedom
not found in "regulation" districts.

The second area of responsibility for the pradhan of a
village is the maintenance of boundaries, both those of the village
itself and those between landholdings within the village. Quarrels
over the boundaries of fields have frequently marred the peace of
Indian villages and to some extent the Santals also are inclined
to encroach upon the soil of their neighbors if the headman is not
alert and constantly vigilant.

The third area of responsibility deals with the areas open
to common usage; in this particular statement it deals only with
the trees in the woodlot. Growing and full-grown trees are not a
part of the commons of the village; they are not available for any
villager to fell and use. The government has reserved them as a
source of revenue. They are not to be sold to commercial contractors,
as are the trees of the government forests; village householders
have primary rights and are given preference when trees are sold
by auction. In many cases the trees are sold at a fixed price to
local people. It is obvious that free exploitation of the trees
would quickly denude a countryside which has already lost much of
its wooded cover.

Police duties are not specified in the above statement of
appointment. They involve whatever seems needed for "the keeping
of the peace", and include fairly close cooperation with the regular
police authorities in the area whenever those authorities are within

the jurisdiction of the village.

 

 

 

 

 

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80

The final statement in the appointment paper indicates that
the pradhan is expected to perform his duties in a general spirit
of cooperation with the governmental activities; he is to regard
himself as primarily a government servant, rather than occupied in
any of the other roles Open to him. Such an implication makes the
role of the Santal village headman a complex and often confusing
one if, under any particular SubeOivisional Officer, the governmental
authority lacks sympathy with the other roles of the headman,
particularly that of guardian of the traditions of the ancestors.
The record, from what has been labeled the "traditional century",
indicates that governmental officers have generally been sympathetic
with Santal values and have minimized the difficulties of the head-
man. Since Indian Independence.the same policies seem to be
continuing, though the pressures towards universalizing govern-
mental policies are increasing.

As a sympgl, the headman is expected to preserve both
correctness and justice. The headman is a symbol of correctness
in that he is expected to maintain, in his own conduct and in the
relations of the village people, the moral, jural and legal tradi-
tions of the ancestors, the rules which Ralph Nicholas has described
as "propositions about behavior, stating what one may or may not do,
directing that certain kinds of action be performed while enjoining
others, distinguishing right and wrong, correct and incorrect"
(Nicholas 1968:302). He must not only maintain the heritage, but
he must surround it with an aura of seriousness by his consistently

reverential demeanor. As a guardian of tradition he stands as a

81

bulwark against the assimilative tendencies of the present time.
Without the effective enactment of his role such tendencies would
very probably erode Santal identity. The actual fulfillment of
the headman's role as guardian of tradition, when performed by an
intelligent and competent individual, becomes the one assurance
that the Santal social system will survive, and where the Santal
headman proves negligent or incompetent in his office, Santal
institutions are in danger of alteration and more likely to follow
the patterns of assimilative cultures.

The Santal headman is also a symbol of justice. He main-
tains traditional standards of justice by his leadership in set-
tling disputes (serious or trivial) and his constant efforts to
regularize irregularities. In performing these duties he must
always avoid any tendency to arbitrate; Santal judicial processes
are mediative, and directed towards the development of consensus,
and any approach to the arbitrary judgment of a "third party“
disturbs the peace of the village as it provokes indignation among
the elders. The efforts toward consensus require, of the headman,
insight in understanding the real roots of conflict, alertness in
seeking compromises, and appreciation of the available resources
for mutual satisfaction.

The question may, here, be asked appropriately if the
headman should be regarded as an authority or as a leaggr. The
distinction between authority and leadership has been made by
Bierstedt. He has suggested that men become leaders through the

outstanding fulfillment of organizational and personal relations

82

and through the fulfillment of communal norms in such a manner

that his followers willingly submit to his wishes in order to realize
manifest goals or goals represented by the leader. Authority, on
the other hand, is associated with the dominance accorded a person
holding a prestigious status or position in an organized setting in
which structural relations of super-ordination and sub-ordination
have become institutionalized or habitual. Bierstedt's discussion
suggests that leadership is evident in the innovative setting,
where the leader-follower relationship is in formation, while
authority is evident after the differences in status have become
customary or habitual; after this "solidifying" of the patterns of
coordination, authority may be granted to any person elevated to
the status of superior, and any person in the status of inferiority
responds with obedience and cooperation without testing the abili-
ties of the authority. The authority need not personally prove
himself competent to elicit the loyalty of his sub-ordinates while
the leader is constantly required to demonstrate that his actions
are leading the group in the direction of their norms or expecta-
tions (Bierstedt 1970:316-319).

If this distinction between authority and leadership be
applied to the Santal headman's role, it becomes almost necessary
to say that leadership and authority can be, and are, in this
society, simultaneously evident. The long-established traditions
of the Santals give "authority" to the village headman, whoever
he may be; even when a young man inherits the position, his words

are regarded with respect and his judgments are viewed with attention.

83

Yet the egalitarian aspects of Santal life, especially the need for
developing consensus, continually compels the headman to demon-
strate his leadership--genuine ability in both administration and
judgment.
Another aspect of leadership is presented in the following
statement by F. G. Bailey:
We already have a variety of synonyms for strong and weak
leaders. The strong leader commands: the weak asks for
consent. The strong man has men at his disposal like instru-
ments: the weak leader has allies. The former's political
credit is high: the latter's low. The strong man has ready
access to political resources: the weak leader does not.
Notice that questions about a leader's control over his team
are questions about the relative size of his political re-
sources as measured against the political resources inde-
pendently controlled by his supporters (Bailey 1969:75).
By the criteria which Bailey offers, we might say that the Santal
village headman's role makes of him a weak leader: his resources
are usually no greater than those of his fellow village elders
(except that perhaps tradition grants him an advantage they do not
have, and perhaps in his later years experience equips him with
models of resolution and compromise which not all other elders can
acquire as fully as he does); but as to economic wealth, he is not
superior to others in the village, and as for the coalition of
active corps of devoted or fanatical followers ready to do his
bidding unquestionably, the headman's role does not grant him such
resources. Without these he may be regarded as "weak", but the
epithetical use of the term "weak" appears inappropriate in de-
scribing the headman's role. His moral and consensual leadership
has demonstrated considerable effectiveness when performed compe-

tently in resisting the encroachment of non-Santal influences.

84

Finally, it becomes imperative to try to accertain the

villager's own opinion of the headman's position. The Santals speak

 

of their headman as the "big" man: they say, "Mghjh1_do_marang ho;
.EQDEEN (the headman is a big man). Marang_is literally translated
as "big", but it must be distinguished from the near synonym, 1232:
.Latg_means "big" in the sense of "corpulent" or "fat", and since
there are no fat men in a traditional Santal village it becomes
apparent that latg_is inappropriate in describing the village head-
man. Marang implies both importance and seniority, both of which
do apply to their concept of headmanship. Similarly, Santals usually
consider their headman to be a bud akil hor, literally a man with
knowledge and wisdom. He is expected to give wise counsel (gglha),
but he is not expected to be a talkative person dispensing his

opinions indiscriminately. They expect their headman to be an

.EXEEIEI (leader), a person who is actively engaged in the pursuit
of some purpose, and not merely a passive advisor whose position
requires him to remain objective or neutral. There must be an
M' to head the ceremonial hunting expedition. There is always
an ayurigf among a group of boys herding cattle or among a group of
.young men performing a drama to demonstrate the traditions and
levents of history. Modern political action groups do not exist
inithout an aygrig', neither do traditional Santal villages. The

\Iillage headman is expected to be a marang hog, a bud akil hog,

 

aand an ayuric'. Pervading these concepts as applied to the head-

rnan is the notion of importance, seniority, experienced wisdom, and

active leadership.

85

The Pargana

At some point early in Santal history, it was found expedient
to organize an authority to deal with inter-village relationships:
many reasons can be deduced to explain the emergence of an inter-
village council even in a subsistence economy located in a land of
isolating forests but these reasons need not be speculated on here.
The Santals have, in historic times, applied the term pargana to
the collection of villages accepting the authority of an inter-
village council, and to the council itself. Very soon after the
Santals began to settle in the Damin-i-koh they organized their
villages into pargana groups and developed pargana councils.

The pargana council was made up of groups of elders; each
group, with its headman, represented one of the villages in the
pargana. The selection of representatives from the village to the
pargana council was not formalized; the elders who formed an informal
advisory group around the village headman accompanied him to the

meetings of the pargana council.

The pargana assembly elected one person from among those
representing their villages in its meetings to serve as the Parganic'
'For a life term. This elected officer, usually a village headman,
acted as the presiding officer of the council. Inevitably he became
1the most influential and prestigious figure among the men of the
item to twenty villages associated in the pargana. Of the criteria
cased in selecting the Parganic', the most important was that he be

it than well informed of hapramko akf dustur (the traditions of the

 

ancestors) and the most able to point the way to the preservation

86

of traditional Santal values. This ability, is the Santal definition
of "wisdom". It was important because the Parganic' was continually
called upon to inform and counsel the elders and councils of the
area villages in matters dealing with Santal traditions in the face
of problems arising from the challenge of life in the Damin-i-koh.
It was the duty of the Parganic' to call meetings of the
pargana assembly. These meetings were not regularly scheduled but
called whenever a headman or a group of village elders requested
them. The request was made to the Parganic' and if he adjudged
that the request warranted an assembling of the village delegations,
the meeting was called. His duties as presiding officer of the
meeting were very similar to those of the village headman in his
own village council. The Parganic' served as a guardian of tradi-
tion and guided discussion towards consensus as effectively as
possible. After extended and free discussion by the village repre-
sentatives, the Parganic' called for a decision, but this call
usually did not come until he was confident of a consensus or, at
least, a strong majority in support of the decision.

I The pargana assembly served as a high court of last resort
loather than as a legislative body. However, as is usual where such
Imodies are found, the decisions of the assembly tended to have
1 egislative effect because they became precedents for long periods

and in numbers of situations. For the most part the pargana as-
semblies dealt with matters which local councils could not resolve,“
epither because of the lack of consensus in the village or because

‘Tf’ the novelty of the problem (and the difficulty of relating it to

87

traditional patterns). Some matters of inter-village conflict (or
need for cooperation) also found their way to the assembly. To some
extent, the pargana assembly served as a supervisory body in matters
of moral, jural and legal practice; complaints against local village
councils could be brought to the Parganic' and thence to the assembly.
This possibility meant that each village council was influenced by
the potential superior authority of the assembly.

Although the Sub-Divisional administration of government is
discussed separately in a later section of this chapter, it is
necessary to introduce this instrument of government while con-
sidering the pargana. The pargana organization had its origin early
in Santal life. It became active in the Damin-i-koh very early in
the period of settlement, and its part in the rebellion was important.
It survived the post-rebellion re-organization of the traditional
system without the formal recognition of British Indian governmental
authority in the "traditional century". However, during this period,
the Government found it "necessary" to deal directly with the villages
as political instrumentalities. It did not empower the pargana
assembly or the Parganic' with any type of administrative function
(such as it gave to the village headman and the village council).

Ilith the denial of legislative, judicial and police functions the
Eargana remained a wholly Santal institution, until the end of the

' British period, concerned only with the preservation of Santal
\Iialues and traditions which were regarded as the essential ingredi-
e11ts of the welfare of society. Without the sanction of the Govern-

ment, matters involving dealings between Santals and non-Santals

88

could not be brought to the point of resolution in the pargana
assembly. This appears to have been a deliberate decision of the
Government designed to limit the political authority of the Santals
to their respective villages.

The Government paraphernalia of the Sub-Division may be
said to have paralleled the traditional jurisdiction of the pargana
except that usually in the area of the sub-division there was room
for several pargana groupings, the sub-division also had authority
over non-Santals and much greater resources than the purely Santal
institution; it raised taxes, as the pargana did not; it employed
large numbers of persons while the pargana was served in a largely
voluntary capacity only by the Parganic'. The sub-division had
police authority, and could enforce judicial decisions against the
will of individuals of considerable influence supported by large
numbers of followers; the pargana assembly gained its authority
solely from the consensus it could develop among the Santals.

In spite of the differences between Government and pargana
assembly authority and resources, the Subdivisional authority found
'it both wise and expedient to keep apprised of the activities of
"unofficial" pargana assemblies. They were composed of the most
[Drestigious leaders of the Santal community, whose influence pro-

‘Foundly affected the attitudes of the Santals and their willingness
1:0 work under the regulations of Government. Their judgments re-
wealed the fundamental moral and traditional values of the people
who cultivated the land and provided the revenues. And the complaints

brought to the pargana assemblies were a dependable indication of the

89

problems of the people as they were recognized and felt by most
Santals. The Sub-Divisional authority therefore relaxed bureau-
cratic procedures and made it possible for the leaders of the pargana
assembly to act as mediaries between the various offices of the Sub-
Division and such village councils or headmen as had special problems
unresolved under ordinary procedures. Ignoring regular channels of
authority, such mediation was always informal, highly personal and
effective.
Pargana assemblies are now only another chapter in history.
They seldom, if ever, have met since India gained its independence
in 1947. This has not been due to any act of Government (as far as
has been ascertainable). Rather, there seems to have been a gradual
diminishing of pargapa_activity since 1930, with the period between
assembly meetings growing gradually longer and the number of matters
submitted to the Parganic' for decision gradually becoming less.
This gradual change seems to be due to two primary factors.
First, there has been a large in-flux of non-Santals into the hog.
‘gjsgm_since the 1920's until the Santals have become a minority
(about one third) in their own country. Some villages have remained
lburely Santal in their population, but a great many villages have
taecome heterogeneous. As a result it has been increasingly diffi-
<:ult to bring together ten or twenty Santal villages in a contiguous
area to form a pargana. The second reason may be described as a
gradually spiraling process in which village independence increased
“Iliile pargana authority diminished, each trend accelerating the

Other. As pargana assembly meetings became less frequent, more and

90

more matters had to be resolved in village councils; at the same

time, as more and more matters were finally dealt with in the

village, the need for a meeting of the superior authority dimin-
ished. As the activity of the Parganic' decreased, the village head-
man took on increased responsibility for maintaining the Santal
traditions; at the same time, as people depended the more on their
local headman, the fewer became the appeals to the wisdom of the
Parganic'. The result of this spiralling process has been a great
strengthening of the local village council, its headman and adminis-
trative elders. Today, with the pargana system no longer functioning,

the responsibility for maintaining hapramko ak' dustur falls entirely

 

upon the village community and its leaders, especially the village
headman.

However, there are times when even the wisest headman finds
himself confronted with problems too novel or too complex for his
clarification, and when village councils are unable to achieve a
workable consensus regarding some issue sorely in need of resolution.
Change and frustration are common experiences in the Santal village
'today. In such circumstances the Santal gift for adjustment has
'Found devices which, if not traditionally ideal are pragmatic and
(expedient. A number of cases have been noted where the headmen of
two or three villages have sat down to consult each other on the

meaning of hapramko ak' dustur in difficult situations. And occa-

 

ssionally, whole village councils have joined in an inter-village
effort to find a suitable solution to a problem, the voices of

neighboring villages giving an added impetus to the processes by

91

which consensus is reached. These substitutes for the pargana
assembly seem to have positive results.

There are times, however, when even these improvisations
do not bring a satisfactory resolution, or when complainants refuse
to be satisfied with the decisions of the improvised conferences.
Then it is inevitable that individuals who have financial resources
and non-Santal support of some sort appeal to the non-Santal system
of adjudication, the Civil courts of the Sub-Division. Matters
which eventually proceed to the civil authorities are usually jural
and legal matters, while matters which can be resolved by Santal
authorities are concerns of moral traditions.

An additional reason for the eclipse of the pargana assembly
may be found in the development of the Anchal and Block Development
programs and the new Panchayat organization of the Government of
India since 1950. Certainly these programs are potentially new
devices for inter-village action. However, the pargana assembly
inas clearly defunct before the introduction of the new rural pro-

grams. And its demise should not be attributed to the new efforts

of Government .

The Sub-Divisional Administration
The political structures of Santal society meet the struc-
‘tures of the Indian Government through contact with the sub-
tiivisional administration. This administration is the one of six
ssub-divisional systems in the Santal Parganas district, which, in

1:urn, is one of the seventeen districts of the State of Bihar, one

92

of India's 16 States. To the average Santal, the bureaucracy of

the Indian government seems totally removed from the concerns of
life in the village, but the village headman, as an appointee of the
sub-divisional authority--at least for matters concerning revenue
and police administration, if not for traditional duties--must

give a good deal of his time and effort to his responsibilities

for the sub-divisional offices. Other village leaders are also
aware of the importance of these administrative responsibilities
beyond the Santal community.

The sub-divisional administration serves as an interpreter
of, as well as intermediate link with, the codified laws of India
as they are applied to all elements of the nation's population.
‘There are a number of special statutory provisions applied only to
the Santal population, and these are the special concern of the
sub-divisional authority. A brief review of these special pro-
visions is appropriate at this point for they give the political
structures of Santal society a unique character. These provisions
were first promulgated by the British rulers after the Rebellion
of 1855; they have been little changed since.

Three specific legal provisions continue to influence
Santal life in that they strongly affect the ability of the Santals
to maintain their traditional system; it is these provisions which
serve to "encapsulate" Santal society, preserving a degree of
independence which would be soon lost in the midst of assimilative
‘trends were it not for the provisions. (1) Santal land cannot be

sold to non-Santals under any circumstances. (2) The rate of

93

interest which can be charged on loans to the Santals is held under
Government control. (3) The principle of primogeniture in the
selection of the Santal headman is recognized by the governmental
atrthorities, and the headman who inherits his office is given the
same recognition, rights and privileges, duties and authority, as
the headman who is elected by the vote of the people in non-Santal
villages.

It has been the responsibility of the chief authority in
'the sub-divisional administration, the Sub-Divisional Officer, known
generally as the 5.0.0., to assure the enforcement of these principles.
INS both chief magistrate of the sub-division and the chief adminis-
‘trative officer, he is directly accessible to the village headman,
land practical experience has taught the Santal headman that in this
(officer he has a reliable and sympathetic court of last resort.
Even though more recent organizational changes have attempted to
\weaken the ties between the village headman and the 5.0.0., providing
(other avenues of communication with the Government, Santal headmen
icontinue to maintain their communication links with the S.D.O.'s

office.

Modern Rural Programs of Government
Since 1950 a nation-wide effort has been made to bring
lgovernmental services and democratic participation in government
‘to the rural areas of India. To this end, the sub-divisions of
s‘the district have been further sub-divided into what are called

"anchals". There are, for instance, six anchals in the sub-division

94

in which the villages under study here are located. The two villages
described in these pages are among the 134 villages in the Hartjuri
Anchal of the Paurapur sub-division.

The anchal headquarters at Hartjuri town include a police
station and a Block Development office. The police station serves
the Hartjuri police "thanna" which is coterminous with the anchal.
The Block Development office serves the anchal through rural develop-
ment and extension programs. These programs are initiated by
national authorities but they vary from anchal to anchal to meet
the specific needs of the area. They generally include agri-
cultural, public health and adult education projects with officers
trained at least minimally for each project. The Block Development
staff also includes "village level workers" who circulate among
the villages and attempt to establish contact with the people with
an intent to enlist their interest in the projects of the "block".
The officer supervising the Anchal program is the Block Development
Officer, or 8.0.0.

Within each anchal the villages have been organized into
"panchayats". The term, "panchayat" refers to patterns of Indian
village government of very ancient origin in which five men ("panch"
means five) conduct free and open hearings on complaints and claims
made by fellow villagers. The traditional panchayat could be the
governing body of an entire village or of a caste segment of the
village. In the modern administrative scheme, the panchayat area,
or panchayat raj, has been organized to include a small number of

villages, or a population of noless than one thousand; the governing

95

committee of this panchayat area is elected by secret ballot with
all adults, male and female, resident in the area granted the right
to vote.

Like the town or township of a modern state, the panchayat
is given a limited right to levy taxes and provide services in its
area. This panchayat system is ultimately intended to become the
smallest local unit of government.

There are those in the Government of India who are seeking
rassiduously in the name of progressive democracy to make the Block
Development and Panchayat systems universal in rural India. N. R.
Inamdar, in his formulation of the goals of the government, has said
'that it is expected that panchayats will be established in all the
vareas which can be classified as village areas; that the panchayats
shall become democratized institutions whose members will be elected
in free and competitive elections by secret balloting; that the
Panchayat bodies will be vested with adequate financial and personal
*resources to permit a continuous widening of their scope of activi-
‘ties; and that these panchayats will be under centralized control
under the immediate supervision of offices of the Sub-Divisional
«administration (Inamdar l970:2).

Verrier Elwin, in a serious critique of the system has
recognized these goals:

The State Governments and the Administrations of the Union
Territories are vying with one another in the rapid expansion
of the Panchayat Raj institution. There appears to be a
unanimity of opinion that these village Panchayats should be,
not merely the administrative unit, but also the medium for

development activities. This is in accordance with Article 40
of the Constitution which says that: 'The State shall take

96

steps to organize village Panchayats and endow them with such
powers and authority as may be necessary to enable them to
function as units of self-government' (Elwin 1963: 129).

However, Elwin questions the appropriateness of applying
tflie system to areas where adibasis live. He says of the adibasis:

The decision of their Councils is law to the tribal people.

The sanction behind them is both necessity and faith; necessity
because in those far-flung areas social equalibrium and
stability have to be maintained by some responsible agency

and the Council is that agency; faith because with the tribals
their social customs and religious rites are the essence of
existence (Ibid.:l30).

It is my opinion that Elwin's strictures are entirely applicable

in the bar disom among the hg§_hopon. Even though the Santal

 

 

‘villagers do not occupy "far flung areas" as some tribal groups do,
rand though they are in contact with governmental mechanisms and non-
JSantal groups in many aspects of their lives, they still maintain
'their strong faith in their traditional forms of polity, and are
'fully satisfied with the instrumentalities, established and proven
‘through the past century, including their direct contact with Sub-
Divisional Officers.

To the Santals, the panchayat system is a threat to this
«established system in many ways. First, many matters pertaining
‘to jural and legal rights are of mutual concern to panchayats and
‘the Santal village councils; for the panchayats to assume control
(of such rights is in direct violation of the rights which the
villagers claim, assumably under the Constitution of India, to
exercise their own control over social behavior and their lands.
Secondly, under the system of election in the panchayats, it is

possible for small villages or units of the population to have pg

97

representatives in the council, while other villages may have several
elected members: this is because candidates are elected by the
entire jurisdiction of the panchayat, the panchayat raj, with a
majority vote given to the largest group, leaving minority groups
without representation. The election system may be appropriate in

a population of homogeneous society and uniform status, but where
large differences of ethnicity and culture divide the population,
block voting by groups usually eliminates representation from
minority groups. This is in violation of the democratic intent of
the constitution, and certainly contrary to Santal values. Thirdly,
the representative body of the panchayat holds office for a limited
period of time, a condition alien to Santal traditions which accord
life-tenure to council representatives and officers, and provides
Iappropriate compensating mechanisms to prevent abuse of power; life-
tenure has meant security and strong personal responsibility in
Santal polity which seems to the Santal absent in the new order.

In the ho§_disom the likelihood that a panchayat raj might

 

be homogeneously Santal in composition is very slight. The villages
under study here belong to heterogeneous panchayats, including Mal
Pahari, Muslim, Caste Hindu and Outcaste populations as well as
Santals. The Santals have categorized these groups as Pahar reak',

_!juslawak', Dekowak' and Ojat' reak. Their past experiences with

 

 

‘these groups, especially with the first three, have left in the
13antal community a good deal of resistance against any kind of
‘iliteraction with these people. It is therefore difficult for them

to participate in the political arena with them.

98

In summary, the Santals have a profound respect and affection
for their own traditional instrumentalities, with their egalitarian
emphasis and their strong preference for consensus and adaptability
in dealing with the concerns of political life. The almost-uninhibited
competition of panchayat elections, the pressure to form coalitions
with alien groups, the linguistic difficulties of political dis-
cussion in a multi-lingual setting, and other difficulties have
discouraged most Santals from entering the political life of the

panchayat system with anything but reticence.4

Summary: Three Graphic Presentations

The description of political instrumentalities available to
the Santals may be graphically presented in the three figures given
below. The first (Fig. I) shows how the four units of traditional
Santal polity relate to each other. The households (1), each with
its head, are represented in the village council (2) of which the
headman is the presiding authority. The administrative elders
(3) of the village, including the headman, are related closely to
the village council, but also serve to represent the village in the
pargana assembly (4), with its Parganic', an inter-village organi-
zation.

The second figure (Fig. II) shows how the four elements of
Santal traditional polity were related to the Sub-Divisional adminis-
tration of India's Government through the office of the headman
during the "traditional century", before Indian Independence from

the British. The only difference between Figure I and Figure II is

99

D

 

Figure I.--Traditional Political Instrumentalities.

   

Ch

Figure II.--Politica1 Instrumentalities During the "Traditional
Century".

Key to Figure II: Numbers 1-4 are the same as referred to in the
text for Figure I. Number 5 represents the Sub-
Divisional administration to which many villages
were attached.

100

the addition of the curved line (representing part of a circle)
illustrating the Government's imposed instrumentality of the Sub-
Divisional administration. The number of villages thus attached
to the administration are far too numerous to illustrate here.

The third figure (Fig. III) illustrates the complexity of
relationships developed since Independence. The representation of
the households (1) in the village council (2) continues as in previ-
ous years. The village council, however, no longer appeals to the
pargana assembly because this body is defunct and does not appear
in Figure III. Instead two bodies intervene, theoretically, between
the village council and the Sub-Divisional administration: village
councils are supposed to relate to the panchayat (3) which is not a
Santal body, and usually contains more non-Santals than Santals.

The panchayats of an area relate to the Anchal-Development Block
organization (4) for various services, and the Block Development
program is under the direction of the Sub-Divisional administration

(5). Regardless of the legislated organizational structure, the

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Flgure III.--The Current Political System.

101

Santal village headmen tend to exercise their right to take matters
of village concern directly to the Sub-Divisional offices whenever

possible.

The Cost of Complexity

The complexity of this last system has brought with it many
strains. This is particularly due to the delays which are experienced
in getting decisive action under the new system. Santals have seen
that in their traditional order, with its strong local authority and
its highly personalized village councils, matters of dispute or
emergency needs of many kinds have been dealt with immediately,
and in a framework of open discussion and full participation.
Furthermore, decisions have not been curbed and complicated by
reference to written regulations and rigid laws; the goal of all
adjustments has been to reach a workable consensus in compromise.
In the new system, every circumstance seems to create increasing
delay and frustration. Moreover, the resolution of difficulties
has become prohibitive to many who have not the financial means to
meet the costs.

In many ways, the political instrumentalities created by
the Government have, for many decades, been encroaching upon the
authority of the Santal system. It should be remembered that
Santal society itself was saved from extinction by the agency of
Governmental intervention after the Rebellion of 1855, its pro-
tective regulations preserving the economic basis and authority

structures of Santal life. This fact has given the officers of

102

Government a role in Santal life which inevitably over-rides tradi-
tional authorities in cases of confrontation. With Independence and
the efforts to extend modern democratic procedures into the rural
life of India, the tendency for Governmental authority to under-
cut traditional authority increases.

The Government provides courts which can grant relief to
plaintiffs even when traditional councils refuse to do so. More-
over, the Government courts have police powers not available to
the councils of the Santal village. The result is that individual
Santals, either having been educated in non-Santal legal procedures
or guided by non-Santal sophisticates, have been able to resort to
the Governmental instrumentalities when their traditional system
has failed to grant them the relief they feel they must have. The
governmental institutions are costly and slow-moving, but those who
can afford to make investments in appeals to the courts and police,
have been increasingly inclined to do so. The vast majority of
Santal villagers have neither been educated in the philosophy of
the current system nor can they afford to hire non-Santal counsel
to interpret their position. The common man still depends upon
his traditional instrumentalities and his champion of justice and
correctness, the village headman who lives just down the path from

his people.

CHAPTER V

SOCIAL CATEGORIES FOR THE
HEADMAN AND HIS PEOPLE

Introduction: The Importance of Categories

In Santal villages many residents are kinsmen who know each
other personally, furthermore, each Santal seems to know his village
mates. This is not surprising considering the fact that the average
Santal village is composed of only 30-50 households. The additional
fact that the village is the nexus of life processes, the place
where continuous interpersonal relationships are experienced through-
out life, enhances people's awareness of each other. These rela-
tionships are governed by norms well known among the kinsmen, the
old and the young, the males and the females.

Rules of behavior are often singled out as essential in the
consideration of human interaction, but so is the formulation of
social categories essential to human life. These categories are
basic to the processes of human thought and they bring order into
social relations. The Santals have developed, as an ancient heritage,
a number of social categories necessary to the village headman's
relationships with the people. These categories serve as a widely
accepted identifying characteristic of Santal society in general.

Although the categories of Santal society have their

parallels in other societies, it is incorrect to view the parallelisms
103

104

as absolute similarities. Like every other ethnic group, the Santals
have had a unique history and this has meant the development of
unique characteristics in their conceptual equipment and their

social practices. For instance, it may be convenient to refer to

the Santal paris as a "clan", but it must be noted that the paris

 

 

lacks many of the characteristics found in units labeled "clan" in

studies of other societies. Likewise, the Santal ghutia may seem

 

to have characteristics of the Hindu "cult"; but the ghutia is a

 

kinship group and the Hindu cults are frequently made up of unrelated
persons, even of persons of different castes.

In the assimilative contacts experienced by the Santals,
there have been attempts to equate the Santal categories with
classifications used in the assimilative society. These may be
noted, but care should be taken to avoid thinking of these attempts
as anything more than the re-interpretations that grow out of
assimilative contact. In this chapter the Santal categories of

paris, gutia, b65, gharong, and oaris are defined and discussed as

 

 

they are manifest among the villagers.

The Santal Paris

 

Every Santal, including the headman, is known as a member

of his patrilineal exogamous paris. The twelve paris may well be

 

 

referred to as "clans". The label "clan" has been used differently
among Anthropologists, but it generally indicates an extended kin-

ship group like the paris which includes all persons unilineally

 

descended from a common ancestor of fictive or mythological character

105

rather than through a known or well-remembered ancestor. Because
some writers include both matrilineal and patrilineal descent groups

under the term "clan", it is necessary to specify the paris as a

 

patrilineal kinship group. Similarly, because the term "clan" has
on occasion been used for groups practicing endogamy as well as

exogamy, it is necessary to distinguish the paris as being an

exogamous kinship group (Fox 1967:49-50).

The division of the Santals into twelve paris, and the

practice of 23:13 exogamy is traced to the ancestors and strongly
validated by the mythology of the Santals. It is common for the
creation myth to be repeated at certain life-cycle events either
by the headman or a respected male elder (see Appendix C, p 295).
The creation myth relates the belief that the original pilcu haram

 

(sacred grandfather--first man) and pilcu budhi (sacred grandmother--

 

first woman), who were not brother and sister, were the parents of
twelve brother-sister pairs. Each pair is regarded as essentially
of related origin because they were born at the same location. Each
pair was, therefore, given a distinct name which further emphasizes
their distinct nature. In the mythological age, the male and female
in each pair practiced strict incest taboos in their relation to each
other: these true brothers and sisters of the creation myth never
came to know each other sexually. It was the solemn duty of each
brother to protect his sister from all bodily harm and especially
from sexual molestation. The third generation of he; hgpgh_came
into being when the brother in each of the original pairs cohabited

with another brother's sister--that is to say, according to Santal

106

lore, outside the incest restrictions. While the twelve sisters
retained their original name, which they shared with their paired
brother, they did not pass on the name to their offspring. Instead,
the offspring in each case took the name of the father. Thus, in
the mythological beginnings, Santal society acquired its twelve
patrilineal divisions each practicing the strict incest taboos
which governed the "true brothers and sisters" of the original
pairs.

Every Santal carries the name of his BEIIE: The myths give
the names of twelve Earls: Hasdak', Murmu, Kisku, Hembrom, Marndi,
Soren, Tudu, Baske, Besra, Pauria, care and Bedea. However, according

to oral tradition, one of the twelve paris was "lost" many years ago

 

when the members of this paris refused to accompany the rest of the

 

Santals in migration to a new place. Various versions of the story
are told, but all agree that the Bedea clan was lost because of
"stubbornness and disobedience to their elders". Contemporary

Santals say that the eleven paris still exist, but I found only

 

nine paris among the people in the communities of this study.

Membership in the paris serves to structure the social

 

relations of the Santals in several ways. In the first place, it
marks the individual Santal's descent from the common ancestors of
all the Santals, and therefore validates his membership in the hg§_
hgpgn, the company of true men. This strengthens the solidarity

of Santal society. Membership in one of the eleven existing paris

 

means, furthermore, identification with those who have been, unlike

the "lost" Bedea paris, both obedient and cooperative in the Santal

 

1"

 

 

107

history of migration. In short, the identification with parjs_
traditions provides a strong moral basis for Santal unity.

In the second place, 22:15 distinctions serve to structure
the important aspect of mate selection in Santal social relations.
In keeping with the belief that all members of the paris_are, like
the mythological brother-sister pairs, "true brothers and sisters",
clan exogamy is strictly enforced by all Santal elders, even though
individuals can not trace their actual agnatic relations beyond
three or four generations.

In the third place, membership in the pari§_accentuates the
general egalitarianism of Santal society. In the mythological
setting, not one of the original brother-sister pairs could or did
claim any preferences of any sort. Mating between pairs was based
on the accident of inebriacy after a long day of celebration in the
dancing grove; no bias or preference is suggested. In more recently
developed traditions elements of competition are reported between
a few of the clans. Older people--usually women--sometimes speak
out in objection to the marriage of a Kisku and a Marndi, repeating
an old tale of how the Kiskus proved themselves more intelligent

than the Marndi. Marriage between a man of the Tudu paris and a

 

woman of the Besra paris is also discouraged because, they say, a

 

group of Besra women once bested a group of Tudu young men in a
battle of wits. Today these stories are treated lightly by most
Sentals. The authority and dignity of the village headman are never

exerted to place any restrictions on mate selection between persons

108

of any two paris, and informants repeatedly declare the complete
equality of paris.

There are evidences that the "world" of the paris has been

 

under some pressure in the culture contacts of the past century or
so. One such is shown in the reports of Culshaw and Skrefsrud of

a folktale suggesting that at one time Santal clans were stratified
according to occupations in a manner not unlike the historic caste-
occupation patterns of the Hindu village. In this story the Murmus
were supposedly the priests; the Kiskus, the rulers; the Sorens,
the soldiers; the Tudus, the metal workers and smiths, and so on.
The reaction of Santals to this story, at least in the Damin-i-koh
communities of this study, leads one to question its origins. One
group of villagers reacted to the idea of Kiskus as rulers and
Sorens as soldiers with the retort that they must not have been
very good at their jobs because the Kisku and Soren households of
that village were all rice farmers like everyone else. Another
informant explained that some Hindus must have started this story
many years ago in order to confuse Santal children, but they
believed even the children know the truth too well to be taken

in by Hindu myths.

Majumdar and Sachchinanda have taken these folktales more
seriously. They have suggested that the Santals may have acquired
them early in their migrations from other Mundari-speaking people
in the Chota Nagpur region where we should seek the cultural origins
of the Santals. With regard to this suggestion, it may be said

that the caste-like organization of some Chota Nagpur people is

109

quite adequately explained as the result of fairly recent cultural
contacts with Hindu people. It may be said in general, that where
caste-practicing populations have become the dominant population in
an area once occupied by adibasi groups, these latter have usually
been incorporated into caste-organized villages as a subordinate
caste. Where the influence of caste ideas has been less dominant,
and where class-like differences have developed among the adibasis
themselves there has been a tendency for the class stratification
to take on, increasingly, the ideological patterns of caste, with
tendencies towards endogamy in the strata and untouchability in
inter-class relations. This is the impression one gets from reading
the reports from many areas, especially in India's "Central belt".
No evidence of caste-like developments are manifest in purely Santal

villages of the Damin-i-koh, at least between the paris structures

 

of Santal society.

The names of the paris continue to hold a significant place

 

in the life of the modernized and urbanized Santals. Indian society
is, today, following the European practice of giving each individual
both a first and last name. While not all of India's communities

have adopted this practice of the family surname, the European pattern
has proved so great a convenience in the modern setting that it may

be expected to have an increasing acceptance. For the Santal, the

European pattern is easily and promptly acceptable; the paris name

 

has been used (with few exceptions) by educated Santals as their
surname, and its inheritance in the paternal line accords perfectly

with Santal traditions. Whether or not the practice of paris

 

110

exogamy will be retained in the modern setting, cannot at present

be predicted except to say that where modern biological concepts

of incest are accepted it is not likely that mythological kinship
ties will continue to govern mate selection. In fact, there are

some reports among the villagers that in some Santal communities

near Calcutta clan endogamy is allowed providing the couple represent

two different bgg,

The Santal 865

The b§§_defines relationships of importance to the Santal
headman only on rare occasions. Where the family of the headman
fails to provide a direct male heir for the headmanship, relatives
of the b§§_provide the candidates for election to the office. Where
the headman and the village council must arrange for the inheritance
of land left by a landholder without a male heir, they resort to
the b§§_to provide an acceptable successor to the ownership.

Largely because of the occasional role the p§§_plays in
providing heirs to land and to village offices, Santals maintain
their interest in the extended family beyond the members of a single
household. This interest does not usually extend beyond the second
cousins; it is rare that a third cousin is selected for such in-
heritance. Second cousins in the patriline can prove that they
have a common great-grandfather, naming each progenitor in the
unilineal descent. Third cousins, in order to claim this relation-
ship, must be able to show how they are descended from a common

great-great-grandfather, and this cannot be done by many Santals

111

because of the lack of written records. It is a rare occasion when
such a demonstration of kinship would be called for because a male
heir is usually found within the first or second cousin classification.
The b§§_differs from the 23:15 or gutia_(to be described
later) relationships which depend on descent from fictive or mytho-
logical ancestors. Since it is based on the same patrilineal
pattern of descent, the pgg, like the other forms of relationship,
requires the practice of exogamy. This emphasis on exogamy is
difficult to explain. It does not seem to be based on any socio-
economic motives such as the desire to strengthen affinal alliances
or to enlarge the family estate, motives which are often found to
be a concern in mate selection among societies emphasizing exogamy;
it is usual in Santal society to give young people almost complete
freedom in mate selection regardless of economic or political
alliances, providing they observe the traditional lines of exogamy.
There may be biological concerns in maintaining exogamy
in Santal society, for the term "bos" is also used for the "blood
line" of cattle. It may be the desire to keep the human "blood line"
"pure" that exogamy is emphasized. If the practices of Santal cattle
breeders are examined it becomes apparent that they seek to improve
their herds by inbreeding, mating closely related individuals in
their attempt to maintain characteristics considered desirable in
cattle; in brief, the cattle bloodlines lead to endogamy rather
than exogamy. Of course, the limiting of inheritance to the p§§_
may involve the idea that if the heir belongs to the same "blood

line" he is more likely to have biologically inherited characteristics

112

which have marked his ancestors, his predecessors in office and owner-
ship. No evidence that such biological considerations are consciously
held has become manifest. It is possible that the only acceptable
explanation of the Santal emphasis on patrilineal exogamy is that

the mythological sanction, that governs paris exogamy and has exogamy

 

has a continuing effectiveness among the people.

It may be asked if the p§§_relationship can be thought of as
a "lineage" in the sense usually found in the anthropological
literature. The term "lineage" has been applied to a great variety
of phenomena, from corporate collectives of determinative importance,
to relationships influencing social behavior rarely with minimal
effect. Among Santals, the p§§_appears to have the prime function
of determining inheritability beyond the household in the absence
of a male heir. The p§§_cannot be labeled a "corporate group" which,
according to Radcliffe-Brown's definition, should meet together at
least occasionally to perform some collective function, or recognize
the authority of some chief or council of representatives, or
possess and control collective property, or have any two or all
three of these characteristics (Radcliffe-Brown and Forde 1962:41).
The b§§_has none of these characteristics: it has no collective
rites or performances; it has no formal authority or head; its
significance to property ownership or inheritance of office is
limited to providing candidates from among whom the village council
may make a selection in rather-rare circumstances. The p§§_may be
labeled a "lineage" only in the sense that it recognizes known kin-

ship beyond the households and has both a name and a function in

113

Santal society. This kinship category does fit the general usage

of the term "lineage" as interpreted loosely by Beals and Hoijer

who state, "Families related through a common ancestor more remote
than a parent are called lineages. Common residence is not necessary,
and sometimes no more than a recognition of common ancestry exists"
(Beals and Hoijer 1971:354).

As is the case with other forms of the lineage, the p§§_
does undergo continuous division. This does not involve any for-
malities. It is simply the result of the fact that in each gener-
ation new persons achieve the status of great-grandfather or great-
great-grandfather and sooner or later they die. New individuals
become first, second and third cousins, while the children of these
kinsmen become too remote for consideration as b§§ kinsmen. The
segmentation of households is not to be considered as a process of
p§§_segmentation. Even though the Santal gharonj (household), which
is discussed in the next section, does segment, the individuals
remain members of a common p§§, It will be noted that the kinship
relationships of the gharonj are much more definitive than those of

the bgg,

The Santal Ghargnj
The role of the village headman is significantly concerned
with the gharonj. He is a member of a gharonj; in fact, the head
of his gharonj. In his dealings with the people, the headman must
often regard them more as members of their gharonj than as specific

individuals. The Santal term, gharonj, may be translated as

114

"household" in the sense which the term has acquired in general
usage, i.e. the individuals living together in a house. The term,
"joint family", which has been used increasingly to denote a legal
and customary entity found frequently in pan-India society, may also
be applied to the gharonj. Karve describes the "joint family" thus:
The joint family is a group of people who generally live under
one roof, who eat food cooked in one kitchen, who hold property
in common, participate in common family worship and are related
:3 one another in some particular type of kinship (Karve 1965:
This concept of the pan-Indian joint family is, like the ideal of
the gharonj, the long-continuing household containing all the
descendants of a founding pair to the generation of the grandchildren
or even the great-grandchildren through male descent. This ideal
is not usually achieved among the Santals any more than among others
who compose the pan-Indian population. Death, divorce, and the with-
drawal of individuals and nuclear units take their toll until most
households actually include only remnants of the total descent group.
Sometimes only widowed or unmarried members are left to live together.
Sometimes a single individual remains as the representative of a
descent group. Quite often in the Santal villages one or two married
sons with their wives and children remain with their parents to
compose the gharonj. In all instances named the Santals continue
to give the status of gharonj to these kinsmen, with the rights of
participation and protection in the life of the village accorded
to such units.

The gharonj may be said to have a life-cycle and the stages
of the life-cycle affect the role it plays in village life. At its

115

inception, the joint family is a small nuclear family consisting

of a man, his wife and their own children. In time the children
become adults; the daughters leave to become members of their
husband's gharonj, (usually in another village) but the sons remain
as members of the household bringing to it their wives. The children
of the sons grow up together as part of the gharonj of their father
and grandfather until the household becomes rather large. Sometimes
before the death of the founding pair, but often after the death,
the nuclear units formed by the sons and their heirs withdraw
(segment) and form a new gharonj. It is considered the duty of the
youngest son to remain with his father until his death, even though
other brothers choose to segment during the father's life time.

With the dispersal of nuclear units new joint families begin again
the cycle of the gharonj.

At its maximum size, the gharonj tends to have great influ-
ence in the activities of the village community. As a single nuclear
family or as a small remnant family, the gharonj may play a distinctly
dependent role in the multiple range of village affairs. Size of
gharonj is not the sole determinant of influence in the life of the
village; other factors, discussed in another section, are highly
significant to political and social influence.

Figure IV attempts to illustrate the buildings occupied by
three gharonj, (p 116). A gharonj may live under more than "one
roof" (as does family "A" in Figure IV). It is common for well-
established families to build two or more residential structures

adjacent to each other, usually around a courtyard, with a collection

116

 

 

Figure IV.-—Three Households in Manjhipur

Mala SIN-act

 

 

1E;lsf l

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

. CoquyOrJ

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I - xo'hh‘ "
' garden.
0 J l

1 «r

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Key to Figure IV: The three different households are
designated as "A", "B", and "C". The use
of sub-numerals refers to the fathers
(as sub-1) and the sons (as sub-2).

The abbreviation "kit" refers to kitchen.

 

 

117

of buildings which I label a "homestead". Most homesteads include
residential dwellings, a small kitchen/food storage building, and

a cattle shed. When a gharonj segments the new household member
units may build new homesteads, but usually the segmenting units
remain in the dwelling they previously occupied, establishing their
own hearth (chula), a store room and some type of facility for a
few cattle (as family "0" did, having segmented from family "8" in
Figure IV). A gharonj, whether it is a nuclear family unit, a
father with married sons, or of some other composition, usually
eats from a single storehouse and from a common hearth.

The one essential trait of the gharonj which distinguishes
it from all other categories in Santal society is the unified
economic basis on which all members are dependent. The gharonj
members participate as both producers and consumers. The gharonj
is "collectivized" in its economy.

Karve, in the discussion which follows her definition, has
noted that the organization of a joint family is fairly easy to
maintain in an agricultural setting where commercialization has
a limited place in the economy and where subsistence is the major
goal of economic effort. But in the modernizing, highly mobile
economy of the pan-Indian society families must make rather elabo-
rate adjustments to maintain the "jointness" of their economic life.
Where individual members, or even nuclear units of the joint family,
follow employment opportunities to move for periods of time away
from the ancestral residence, the joint economy can sometimes be

continued in the form of a unified accounting of incomes and a

118

family control of expenditures through a system of allowances to
its members. These measures are usually acceptable only when there
is some significant family property which cannot be divided without
serious loss. Modernizing Santals have been known to make these
adjustments to retain the value of land which remains valuable only
as a unified source of income.

It is common for a large gharonj to divide, or segment.
When more than one married son with children comprise the gharonj
the three or more adult males find it difficult to continue a
single economic and political unit. If the father becomes elderly
the oldest son takes charge of the household, even if the old man
retains the household head position in name. This circumstance
usually brings about the type of friction which results in segmen-
tation. Sometimes the resources of the gharonj economy are insuffi-
cient to support a large number of people and the constituent nuclear
units separate to create improved economic opportunity. Finally,
upon occasion, the impetus for a nuclear unit to withdraw from the
common life of the gharonj originates with incompatable relations
among the sons' wives. The role of a subordinate woman in a house-
hold, where her responsibilities involve menial drudgery, often
results in intolerable frustration and aggravation. A combination
of these reasons or others lead to division; the precipitating event
is always one which is culturally defined as a sufficient grievance.

To prevent early division of the gharonj, competent leader-
ship is necessary, both in the activities of the male and female

members. The hapramko akf dustur cannot supply the devices for

 

119

solving all problems of household conflict, and frequent failures
of leadership make matters worse. The Santal gharonj segments,
but the relationships after the fact appear to be most congenial,
not lacking in mutual concern and a high degree of sociability.

Additions come to the gharonj through the marriage of sons
who bring their wives to their father's household and through the
birth of children to the sons' wives. Each wife is a working
resource of importance to the household in addition to her potential
child-bearing capacity. Santals give bride price in recognition of
the value of young women. This process is balanced by the losses
of daughters who leave the household of their fathers to become
new members in their husband's gharonj.

Wives are usually recruited from outside the village; the
real or psuedo kinship ties between all inhabitants of a Santal
village makes marriage within the village seem incestous to tradi-
tional Santals who prefer village exogamy. When a new wife finally
leaves her natal village to join her husband she always visits the
headman in the company of her father to seek his blessing and to
thank him, as the representative of the ancestors, for having kept

her safely and having taught her how to be the wife of a hor_hopon.

 

Even though most marriages occur between people whose natal villages
are less than ten miles apart and even though daughters do return
to their villages with their husbands to join in various calendrical
and life-cycle events, the new wife will never return to her natal

village as fully responsible to a consanguinal kinsman.

120

Should a marriage end in divorce the woman can return to her
father's or elder brother's household providing the bride price is
returned and the male kinsman is willing to take her back. Divorce
does occur butremarriage is common for both the divorcee and the
widow. Only a few adult women remain in the village as single
persons. In keeping with most pan-Indian societies the Santal women
find their identity through their affiliation with an adult male
kinsman.

The composition of the ghargnj_can be changed in two other
ways. The adoption of male children is common in the event the
kinsman of either one's gharonj or p§§_dies, leaving them without
a designated father. Such adoptions are ritualized and the children
are thereafter treated as full members of the household and have
full rights of inheritance. The final addition of members is another
form of adoption found among other ethnic groups in India as well.

If a man has no male heir but does have a daughter, he can arrange
for his daughter's marriage and bring the new husband into his house-
hold as a "ghar_j§g§gfl (house husband). The male offspring of this
union will be the legal heir of his mother's father's land and home-
stead. More than one male heir would divide the inheritance equally.
In this manner a young adult male is "adopted" for the purpose of
caring for his wife's parents and their land as well as for the
purpose of siring male offspring. No ghar jawae unacceptable to

the headman would be brought into the village.

The gharonj is a highly significant political unit in the
Santal village. It is in this capacity that the household most

121

often comes to the attention of the headman. The household head

sits in the circle of the kulhi durup'. Whether the household be

 

large or small, every household head is a member of the village
council. In the outer circle of council meetings other adult males
are often present. They are the adult males of households which
are represented by their fathers or elder brothers, the rightful
household head. As long as these other adult males continue to
live in joint families theirs is a minor role in village discussions
and decisions; the major responsibility is always given to the senior
adult male of the household.

In the deliberations of the village council, it is usually
some aspect of the gharonj which is under consideration. Where a
deviant or irresponsible individual is under consideration, it is
his gharonj which is under scrutiny. Because the gharonj is re-
sponsible for the behavior of its members collectively, the gharonj
is fined for misdemeanors or held responsible for restitution. The
household head is responsible to the village council as the true
representative for incorrect behavior and for the adjustment of the
same. Most of the conflicts brought before the village council are
conflicts between gharonj units or those intra-ghargnj_matters which
are unsolvable within the household. The most valued possession of
the gharonj--the cultivable 1and--is under the protection and super-
vision of the headman and the village council. The payment of land
taxes must come from the household head and be paid directly to the

headman.

122

When a ghargnj_segments and the land is divided, the with-
drawing unit must sometimes erect a new homestead. It is the duty
of the village council to confirm the new household head in his
right to a portion of the residential acreage in the village in
addition to any cultivable land.

The relationships of gharonj members are clearly defined
and well-known to all. Rules of interpersonal relations among
affines are referred to earlier (pp 60-62) and in Appendix B, p 291.
In addition to the usual kinship patterns studied the Santals claim
a relationship called garjs, An individual in the ghargnj_may be,
alone or in concert with others, the garjg Of any kinsman, affinal
or consanguine, because of whom he has a claim which has been
recognized by the authority of the headman and Santal custom, upon
produce, cattle or goods--a claim that becomes redeemable under
customarily defined circumstances. This definition of the garj§_
relationship becomes clear only as examples are given. The first
example is found connected with the practice of bride-price. Bride-
price is usually paid in the form of cattle transfer. If the bride
should run away with another man, leaving her husband without a
male heir, the husband can go to his wife's household and reclaim
the bride-price he paid to them. The husband, his father and his
brothers, who paid the bride price, are said to be the garig of the
wife; they have a continuing interest in the bride-price involved
in the marriage, and can claim it if the terms of the marriage are
broken by the bride. A second example shows the garig relationship

between siblings. Two brothers, after inheriting their father's

123

land, may agree not to divide it into smaller holdings. One brother
voluntarily moves away from the village, to take employment on the
railway, at a tea plantation, or in the army (increasingly common
practices). The second brother remains in the village and cultivates
the common fields of the gharonj. The outgoing brother retains his
interest in the land, passing his rights on to his male heirs, and
returns periodically to claim a share in the produce of the land to
supplement his cash income. This is simply an adjustment of the
sort the Santals frequently develop to meet life's circumstances,

an adjustment mutually satisfactory, covered by the flexible garis
relationship. This relationship indicates a continuing, tradi-

tionally recognized interest in and claim upon material goods.

The Santal Gutia

 

The Santal gutia is a narrowly specialized part of the head-

 

man's life, and involves him in relations with a very small group of

men. The gutia may be called a sub-clan as a division of the paris.

 

Campbell has listed as many as forty-one gutias in one paris and as

few as fifteen gutias in another. Membership in the gutia is inherited

 

 

patrilineally, as is membership in the paris. As the paris is not

 

 

confined to any locality, the gutia membership is scattered geographi-

cally over numbers of villages, and the number of members in any one
village is small.

Unlike the paris, the gutia becomes involved in group-

 

 

confirming religious rites. It may be called a worshipping entity.

Each gutia observes the rites of a special bonga or spirit. It

 

 

124

meets-~though seldom more than once a year-~to perform these rites
and to join in a ritual meal to consume the food offered in these
rites. These rites are performed in a grove of trees or under a

certain tree near the village. The men of the obor gutia of the

 

Soren paris, for example, offer chickens to their bongas on certain

 

auspicious winter evenings and remain at the scene to eat and talk
throughout the night. After eating, they drink hahdj_(rice wine)
and spend the time in fellowship until dawn. Villagers are reluc-
tant to discuss the activities of the gutia because of the secrecy
and fear associated with the worship of their particular bgjga,
Consequently, I was never invited to one of these events. How-

ever, I was assured that the gutias meet only at the time of such

 

events. A Norwegian missionary of many years, Johannes Gausdal, in

his book, The Santal Khfits (1960) gives more details about these

 

groups.
The headman is a member of only one gutia. When members of

the various gutia meet for their ritual feasts the headman, like

 

all others, respects the secrecy of the situation and avoids any

dealings with others gutia activity.

 

The gatia_"world" impinges closely upon the metaphysical
world of the Santal. It also performs some functions performed
in non-Santal societies by various sects and cults. The Santals
have little need to turn to the numerous cults of Hindu society,
or the sects of Christianity, with their secret rites and intimate
fellowship for gratifications available in their own world. It

should be noted that familiarity with the gutia gives the Santals

 

125

a category for recognizing Hindu and Christian cults and sects; he
sees the Catholic mass as parallel to his gutia rites, and the cult
activities of Hinduism--even in their ecstatic forms--are not

inexplicable to the Santals.

Summary of the Social Categpries

The following chart is offered to summarize the categories
by which the Santal headman orders his real kinsmen. His concerns
are listed in the left-hand column; in his leadership he must be
aware of all these aspects of village life. In the remaining columns
are indications of what categories are involved in these concerns.
The headman is responsible, for instance, for the smooth transfer
of inheritance; in ensuring correct transfers he must take into
account the p§§_and gharonj units of the village. When special
claims on designated material goods are to be enforced, the headman
deals with the p§§, the gharonj and the garjg,

In summary, the gharonj emerges as the most significant
category governing village life. Consequently, it becomes the
major category of concern to the headman. The gharonj directly
controls the daily life of the people. The center of life in the
gharonj is filled with economic and political concerns, the prime

concerns of the headman.

126

TABLE I.--Kinship Categories and Social Concerns.

 

Categories Governing Village Life
Concerns of the

 

Village Leadership Paria 86$ Gharonj Oaris Gutia
Identifying

Relationships X X X X X
(Kinship

Relationships X X X X X
Inheritance

Claims X X

Social Controls X

Political

Interests X

Special Claims X X X

Rites and Myths X X

 

CHAPTER VI
ENACTMENTS OF THE HEADMAN'S ROLE

Introduction

The study of Santal village headmanship becomes more meaning-
ful when preceeded by a preliminary examination of various aspects
of the social system in which the role is performed. Such a prelimi-
nary examination has been made in the preceding chapters. In
Chapter III a description is given of the community structure of
Santal 1ife--the giggm or Santal national homeland, and the atg_or
Santal village community; these form the basic ecological world of
Santal society. Chapter IV gives an outline of the main features
of the political arenas in which the headman performs his most evi-
dent, publically recognized duties. In Chapter V a few of the major
social categories of Santal society are presented; it is important
to know how the village headman categorizes his own people in order
to understand his relationships with them.

In this chapter attention is turned to the dynamics of head-
manship. The performance of this role is a series of enactments,
and the description of this role must include a narrative of specific
activities. Eventually generalizations are made regarding the
various actions, giving them their underlying significance in a

social context. But the generalizations must derive from the

127

128

observation of a succession of actions--social processes--involving
the active role performance of the headman.

Action cannot be immediately reduced to an orderly analysis;
the narrative of specific cases is a suitable medium for reporting
action. Several instances arise in the flow of events when expla-
nations or analytical considerations can, and must, be made. But
where these digressions occur, they do not constitute a logical
well—organized exposition; they follow, and are dependent upon, the
sequence of action rather than upon any logical classification.

The logical and orderly account takes shape only after the narrative
of reported action.

In this chapter of enactments, the observations made in
this study are reported in a framework of narrative. Oigressions
from the narrative appear in brief passages of explanation and
passing efforts to analyze significant actions. These digressions
are intended to alluminate the narrative. They also serve to develop
a more complete, extended and logical presentation of headmanship
which will be offered in the final chapter.

The case studies selected for narration fall into three
groups. The first four cases deal with the headman as the main-
tainer and guide of traditional social life. The first narrative
reports the critical events occurring in the process of maintaining
the hereditary succession of headmanship. The second shows the
headman acting as keeper of the peace in a complicated case in which
conflicting interests must be brought into consensus, an end which

is fUrthered by the invasion of non-Santal authority; the headman

129

uses the non-Santal invasion to effect traditional goals. The third
narrative in this group deals with a conflict over private rights
of property and ends, by the intervention of the headman, in the
strengthening of the Santal tradition of collective control of re-
sources. The final narrative reports the activities of the headman,
and others, in the completion of a respectable marriage.

The second set of case studies includes two narratives
which indicate how the traditional headman deals with individuals
who have lived for long periods outside Santal society and who return
with a tendency to deviate from the traditional ways of life. In
the first narrative, the deviation consists in resorting to wholly
non-Santal methods in gaining control of a piece of land. In the
second, the deviation amounts to an innovation in Santal procedures
for segmentation of a household and the division of the estate. In
both cases, the headman functions as the agent who reincorporates
the deviant into the society, leading the deviant to conform to
traditional village life.

The final group of cases includes a long, double study and
a short one. The long study reports two instances of efforts to
place the village headmanship in the hands of an individual outside
the hereditary line, by devices not familiar to Santals and not
concordant with Santal norms. In both cases the traditional princi-
ple of inheritance of office is preserved, but only because of the
authority of the encapsulating governmental power, the Indian
government as represented by the Sub-Divisional Officer. In

following the two cases, however, an individual comes into the

130

picture who may be labeled a "surrogate" village headman. Local
circumstances have given this man, by personal commitment and public
recognition, a status much like that of a traditional headman, though
he has no hereditary right to office. This "surrogate" headman
provides an almost ideal example of the traditional village headman,
complete except in respect to his hereditary right. Viewing this
individual in action in a village where the actual headman is less
qualified for the office, the observer is inclined to speculate

that the cultural model of headmanship has a certain compulsive
tendency to produce an individual who takes up the actual performance
of the role in a Santal village.

Appended to this double narrative, the case of a new politi-
cal leader is presented, a representative who, while clinging to
Santal traditions, has characteristics which enable him to perform
an authoritative role in the new political structures of rural
democracy fostered in the modern village scene in India.

Following these case studies, an attempt will be made to
make generalizations about the headman's role. This will constitute

the last chapter of the dissertation.

Maintaining the Patriline
The pattern of inheritance by which Santal headmanship is
passed down through generations is simple: the office goes from
father to eldest son. But in actual practice, circumstances may

require a few variations and adjustments. It is well, therefore,

131

to trace an actual case of inheritance and note the pattern as it
is pragmatically carried out.

In spite of segmentations and death in the gharonj of the
headman, the position will be passed along, in the male line, in
the family of Sakra Soren of Manjhipur. This is possible partly
because the continuities of the p§§_assure the provision of heirs.

Sakra manjhi was of the Soren paris, (therefore legally

 

 

recognized as Sakra Soren). He was headman of Manjhipur at the
time of the last Revenue Settlement in the area in 1918. The
settlement allotted 24 pjgha§_of cultivable land--about 8 acres--
as the "headman's land", free of taxes, to compensate the headman
for his services as pradhan, or land-tax collector and governmental
officer in the village. In addition, Sakra had privately owned
lands of 14 acres which he had, in part, inherited and, in part,
acquired prior to the 1918 Settlement.

Sakra had two sons who remained in the joint family re-
lationship with him until his death. The older son, Dasu, in-
herited the headmanship and was confirmed in office by the village
council. As headman, control of the tax-free acreage accrued to
him. His younger brother, Misher, was a skilled carpenter, and
earned income by preparing doors with ornately carved panels--in
addition to the income earned from working the land. Soon after
the death of the father, Misher was also confirmed in the office of
Nagkg_in the village, the officer in charge of religious rites.
This office was inherited through his p§§_relationship to the

previous Naeke whose gharonj had failed to provide a direct male

132

heir for the office. Misher was appointed as heir by action of the
full village council.

With the office of Nagkg_came a small plot of tax-free land.
These circumstances served to give the two brothers a somewhat
comparable economic status. In addition, Misher as an individual
was a personality greatly respected by his fellow villagers, a man
whose counsel was often sought and whose judgment had been demon-
strated on many occasions. In short, because of his personal
abilities he was not overshadowed by his elder brother in the
headman's office.

Soon after the death of their father, Dasu and Misher
segmented their gharonj, dividing the privately owned acreage and
cattle equally between them (see Kinship chart, p 133). They also
divided the structures of the homestead, including the residences,
stables and storehouses. Thus the gharonj of Sakra Soren segmented,
but remained parts of the p§§ which included the households of Dasu
and Misher Soren.

Dasu, the headman, had two sons, Kambu and Tinka, born ten
or twelve years apart. These men in due course married, but continued
to live in joint relationship with their father. Together they
cultivated their father's tax-free acres and the 7 acres inherited
from Sakra Soren. When Dasu died, the elder son, Kambu inherited
the headmanship without question. The two brothers, however, found
it expedient to continue in the joint relationship with the elder
brother fulfilling the responsibilities of household head in place
of his father.

133

 

 

 

 

 

 

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134

In recent years the two brothers have continued the joint
gharonj. Kambu, the elder, had a son and a daughter, but both
children died from dysentery. Though Kambu's wife is still of
child-bearing age and the pair may yet have a son to inherit the
headmanship, it is quite possible that their line may fail. Thus,
the little son of Tinka, Kambu's younger brother, is at present in
line to inherit the headmanship from his uncle. Since it is prefer-
able for the headman's gharonj to provide his heir, rather than to
resort to the pfig, the brothers apparently regard the division of
their gharonj as undesirable on all counts. Should the son of
Tinka not survive to assume the headmanship the eldest son of Misher,
son of Sakra would become the preferable choice for the office to
succeed Kambu.

The gharonj of Misher, the Nagkg, has not remained unified.
The eldest son of Misher, Lal, showed an interest in improving his
economic standing, an interest of personal nature, not connected
with his membership in the gharonj of his father. After some ten
years of marriage he began to cultivate additional acres on a share
crop basis. Thereafter he was involved both in the cooperative
effort of cultivating his father's land along with his younger brother
and in the private cultivation of acres belonging to others. Lal was
not obligated to share the produce of the extra cultivation with
either his father or his younger brother. Thus his income was no
longer restricted to an equal share in the joint gharonj economy;
it was possible for him to achieve a slightly higher standard of

living through his personal efforts. He symbolized this change by

135

instructing his wife to cook separately from the other women of the

household, on a chula (little mud hearth) built separately from the

 

hearth of his father's gharonj. In addition to the little open chula

 

located in front of their residence, Lal's wife, with the help of

her husband's brother's wife built a more permanent chula on the

 

end of their wide verandah. This chula became a full—fledged

 

independent kitchen when, in the monsoon, the open verandah was
enclosed with walls to protect the cooking arrangements.

The next step in the separation of the joint gharonj did
not come until the youngest son of Misher, Baetka, had been married
long enough to have a son. A combination of Lal's financial inde-
pendence and the fact that his younger brother also had a healthy
male heir seemed to bring about the final separation of this joint
gharonj. Lal requested the segmentation which was granted by his
father. Lal received half of his father's private acreage along
with half the cattle and oxen. Lal was given his residence and the
cattle shed which had belonged to the joint gharonj. This left
Misher and his wife, together with Baetka and his wife and son
together as a joint household. Baetka continued to cultivate the
remaining half of his father's 7 acres, which he will inherit in
toto on the death of his father. Baetka also cultivates the tax-
free acres assigned to his father, the Nagke, which land will be
passed along to the succeeding Naeke.

Today, Misher and Baetka sit down to eat together the food
prepared by the two wives. The wives eat after their husbands.

Baetka's small son will eat with his father as soon as he is old

136

enough to do so. The family of Lal eats from their own chula on

 

the other side of the large courtyard. The joint gharonj has divided
the land and the cattle which are no longer a part of the joint
economic and political unit of Misher's household. Lal is the head
of his own gharggj_and a member of the village council composed of
the household heads. There is no lack of congeniality and cooperation
between the two households even though they now constitute two parts
of a common p§§_rather than a common ghargnj.

The household's of Misher and Lal are as much a part of the
b§§_of Sakra Soren as the household of Kambu the villege headman.
While the inheritance of cultivable land and cattle as well as such

offices as Naeke and Manjhi (headman) usually pass from father to

 

 

eldest son, in the absence of a male heir, members of the gharonj

and secondarily the p§§_are in line for both the material inheritance
and the office. In spite of this tradition there have come to me

no reports or evidence that these kinsmen spend time or energy in
plotting for favorable positions in possible future selections to
office. Certainly, the kind of intrigue (often accompanied by murder)
which has been reported between rival branches of royal or noble
families--or in the families of zamindari 1andholders--in the non-
Santal world, is not reported in the world of the Santal village

headman.

Keeping the Peace
The festival of Sakrat' is held on the last day of the month

of Pous; in 1970 it fell on the twentieth of January, in the season

137

of cool, dry days and clear nights.5 It was a time for the headman
of the village to be present and watchful among his people.

The day was full of excitement. There was an archery contest
in the afternoon, and the winner was carried on the shoulders of his
peers to the headman's house. There he was given special recognition,
fOr in the traditional Santal village archery is still held in high
honor as a heritage from the days when Santals were masters of their

forested country. The headman brought out a pot of handi, and him-

self poured out the first leaf-cup full, to hand it ceremonially to
the champion archer of the day.

When the first pot of 53291 was done, the dancing began. In
the festival dancing of the Santals, the young women form the center
of interest. They form lines in groups of eight to fifteen, locked
arm-in-arm, and move gracefully backwards and forwards. Some of
the men form short lines facing the women, beating the drums hung .
from their shoulders or piping their shrill bamboo flutes; other
men swing individually around the dancing lines. The dancers sing,
songs of merriment and mischief, and the laughter is spontaneous
and care-free.

In the late evening there was feasting. The men and boys
sat together at the edge of the kglhi_(main street) or in someones
large courtyard near the large clay cooking pots filled with rice,
pulse and meat. The women gathered behind the mud walls of
neighboring courtyards, while the older women occasionally went

to the cooking pots to stir the food and add more fuel to the fires.

The men and boys ate first, followed by the women and children.

138

Soon after the feasting the young men began to play the drums and
flutes and the young women soon returned for more dancing. Around
midnight the women and girls went home, followed later by the older
men, but the young men remained in small groups here and there still
tapping the drums softly while others just talked or "hunkered"
silently.

The next morning the village Chowkidar, or watchman, hurried
to the headman's house to report that a young unmarried woman had
been raped the night before. The headman obviously felt that im-
mediate action was necessary, for he hurriedly summoned all available

heads of household to a kulhi durup'. The headman convened the

 

council in his own courtyard rather than in the usual open meeting
place at the end of the main street.

The headman had called the three young men who were accused
of the breach of the peace with their fathers as well as the father
of the young woman. (Women are not permitted to participate in the
meetings of the village council, unless they are personally accused,
and then only if the wrong is of an extremely reprehensible nature.)
When the available heads of households had gathered the accused and
their accuser were already present, seated together immediately to

the right of the headman and the jog manjhi who had brought them.

 

The father of the young woman was asked to begin the hearing
with a statement on behalf of the victim. He was livid with anger
as he described what he declared to be the events of the previous

evening. His accusation may be summarized as follows:

139

"After the dancing, sometime past midnight, P. Murmu, G. Hembrom
and C. Kisku took my little girl by force and each one of them
raped her. She could not leave the spot because of her con-
dition, but was found by her two friends who brought her to me
this morning, and told me this terrible story."
Then he proceded to indicate the intensity of his anger, saying,
"The three must all be punished now, or I will go to the police".
This was a most extreme threat. It was a threat not only
against the young men he accused, but against the whole village and
its authority. There is need to explain why the aggrieved man would
resort to making a police report. It cannot be said that he repre-
sented a puritan Santal morality: while extra-marital relations
are recognized as causing strains in the peace of the village, they
are not defined as acts of extraordinary wickedness. Rape is not
so unusual that the father of the victim needed to act with such
exasperation. The father's excitement is probably better under-
stood as related to his expectations of bride price in connection
with the marriage of his daughter. It is clear that the woman's
failure to make a suitable marriage, with bride price, was troubling
her family (as it was a matter of gossip in the village); according
to information brought out in the council hearing. Now her re-
spectability was threatened. For a young woman to be raped did not
add to her desirability, though it would not mean any serious
decrease in the bride price she would bring. However, if the event
of the previous evening was not defined as "rape", and if the young
men involved were not made publicly responsible and given at least

a minimal punishment, the reputation of the young woman would be

such that the hope of obtaining a bride price in her behalf would

140

be diminished. If, in addition, the sexual escapade should result
in pregnancy from a reported but unproven rape situation it would
be more difficult for the family of the young woman to find a willing
husband. (Although, a pregnant woman is a suitable prospective bride,
proving her ability to conceive.) If it was accepted that the young
woman was seeking sexual relations from whoever would take her, both
she and her father would lose self-respect in the village.

Following the statement of the aggrieved father, the head-
man asked each young man to stand before the council and answer the
accusation. The youngest of the three, aged 17, was the first to
be called. He was the son of a landless laborer, as shy as he was
poor. His simple reply was that he had not touched the girl. The
second, aged 18, son of an influential landowner, loudly proclaimed,
"Onkage ban hoeakana!" ("It did not happen like that:") He described
the event from his point of view. "Everyone knows she is old and
wants to marry too much. She invited the three of us to go into the
dark with her, so I went". The fact that the young woman was indeed
some 24 years old, and beyond the usual age of marriage for Santal
women, was well known in the village. The third young man, aged 19,

testified, "I was with my friends drinking handi after the dance and

 

this female came by and urged us to follow her. I did not see who
it was at first. When I saw who it was, I quickly went home".

The headman then called for an opinion from the jog manjhi,

 

whose special responsibility is the moral conduct of the young, and
from the elders of the council. There was an extended period of

quiet discussion, all speaking in low tones. Then the jog manjhi and

 

141

the headman counselled together privately. Finally the headman
gave the judgment. He pronounced no innocence or guilt; he did not
define the event as "rape" in terms of a misdeamor or felony. He
simply called upon each of the three young men to pay a fine of
five rupees each to the father of the young woman. He followed
this with a didactic lecture against the shameful practices of
women being out alone at night and young men following them in

the dark.

It would seem that the council felt that the father of the
young woman would be appeased with a small sum of fifteen rupees
provided that the young woman was not entirely at fault, giving
some indication of wrongdoing on the part of the young men. The
council and the headman expected that the young men would pay the
fine without demur. However, the solution was not so easily realized.

The father of the third accused, the Kisku youth, a man of
influence and means, spoke up. He was not so much offended by the
manner in which the matter had been handled as he was offended by
the supposition that his son had been implicitly considered guilty.
If the young man was guilty of participating in sexual relations
with the young woman, he was also guilty of transgressing the incest

taboo of paris exogamy. The young woman was also of the Kisku paris.

 

If the youth was guilty of incest, the punishment should be much
greater than five rupees. The fact that the fine was only five
rupees was tantamount to a verdict of innocence. Therefore, he
insisted that instead of paying a fine, he and his son should

receive the apologies of both the young woman and her father for

142

false accusation. The statement obviously took the council by
surprise, and there was a long period of silence. Finally, the Kisku
father arose and proclaimed that he would never pay such a fine.
The other fathers also refused, but the father of the young woman
murmured that the word of the council must be obeyed.

The council sat in silence for some time, as though waiting
for some resolution to their dilemma; they had tried to pacify a
demanding father, and it had led only to additional disturbance in
the village. Perhaps they were hoping the angry father would with-
draw his complaints or suggest some compromise, but this was not
to be. The determined complainant announced that he would take the
case to the police if the matter was not settled by the council.
He was determined to revenge the act which implicated disrespect
to his daughter and to him even if he had to go outside of the vil-
lage system to do so.

The jog manjhi closed the council meeting with the announce-

 

ment that there would have to be another meeting of the council in
the evening when all household heads in the village would be present.
Nothing more was said and after some time the members of the council
dispersed.

The father of the woman did not wait for the evening meeting.
He walked to the Anchal headquarters immediately and reported the
rape case to the police, giving the names of the three young men
as the accused. A small squad of policemen immediately accompanied
the angry father back to Manjhipur. They arrived in the late after-

noon, located the three young men, and placed them under arrest.

143

They tied all three young men with a common heavy rope with their
hands in front of them. The police brought the accused to the head-
man's house followed by a large number of villagers who had gathered
to witness what would happen next. In the presence of the headman
and several village household heads, the police demanded one hundred
and fifty rupees to be paid at once to the girl's father. They
threatened that if the fine were not paid immediately, they would
take the young men off to the Anchal headquarters and hold them in
jail to await a trial which would inevitably be delayed several
weeks.

The fathers of the three accused young men responded after
some conversation among them along with other household heads. The
most wealthy of the three fathers brought out silver bracelets
worth about one hundred and twenty rupees. It was his son who had
alone admitted performing the sex act, denying only the implication
of rape. The other two fathers came forward with the remaining
thirty rupees demanded by the police; they strongly asserted the
innocence of their sons. But threatened with the indefinite
imprisonment of their sons, whether guilty or not, they recognized
that they had to make the payments.

Actually the father of the young woman received only thirty
rupees of the one hundred and fifty paid in fines. The rest, of
course, went to the police to pay them for the trouble of coming to
the village. It is not uncommon for rural police officers to exert
their authority and collect fines extra-legally, outside the judicial

process, to keep certain types of disorders under control. The lack

144

of legal knowledge or representation renders rural people particularly
prone to such exactions in rural areas. However, it should not be
thought that the rural police in India practice indiscriminate or
uncontrolled extortion. Generally, alert supervisors of the system
keep these exactions to a minimum. Also, in many cases it is possible
for the headman of a village to protect his people from serious
inroads; they have, especially in the case of Santal villages,

direct access to the higher officers of the police at the sub-
diviSional level, and complaints placed in the correct form can

give the rural police officers enough difficulty to restrain them

from seriously oppressing the rural people.

The fact that the village headman, in this case, did not
attempt to protect the three men apprehended and roped together by
the police, though the matter was clearly within the jurisdiction
of the village authority, needs explanation. The explanation
becomes obvious as events later in the week are observed.

A few days later there was an occasion of celebration in
the village when a "cousin brother"--a patrilateral parallel cousin--
of the head of one of the village households returned to his home
on a visit. The man had been working in the tea plantations of Assam,
and returned with his wife and son to enjoy a short vacation and show
off the fine clothes and cash money he had accumulated as an inden-

tured laborer. His local kinsmen arranged for the purchase of a

quantity of handi, and all the men of the village were invited to
join in an evening of welcoming festivities in honor of the success-

ful brother from the distant tea plantation.

145

The first symptom of village reaction to the rape case--
indeed, its first step in reasserting its authority--became evident
when the organizers of the festive welcome refused to buy the

required handi from the father of the Kisku youth who had refused

 

to pay the village council's fine. This man had a good supply of

handi on hand and was usually one of the chief suppliers of rice

 

beer for village festivities, but the welcoming host refused to buy
from him, the first act of negative sanction--a positive indication
of alienation. Nevertheless, this Kisku father and his son appeared

to jOin in the festivities. When the handi was being poured into

 

the leaf-cups of the village men, the host did not pour any 92291
for either the Kisku father or his son. This open act caused the
two Kiskus to withdraw to the edge of the crowd of men gathered
around the courtyard of the host's house.

For a time the two were ignored entirely. Then the conver-
sation of the guests turned to the subject of "those who were
guilty of two major offenses". It became apparent that the first
offense was their failure to obey the decision of the village council
and their refusal to pay the simple fine of five rupees. This meant,
of course, that they had caused a major scandal to develop out
of a minor matter. The second offense was the shame they had brought
to the village by bringing up the issue of pgris incest. The coming
of the police was strongly resented because it brought great shame
to the village in the sight of both non-Santal policemen and other
villages; it made it appear that Manjhipur could not manage its own

affairs and gave the impression to others that Manjhipur people were

146

careless in matters of paris exogamy. Such impressions brought shame

 

to the village.

After some time and more cheerful drinking, the father of
the young woman who had brought the rape case to the council, walked
over to the Kisku father and son, and confronted them solemnly with
the words, "Be panta, be panta!" This expression literally means,
"out of line"; in the usage of the village, persons found guilty
of be papta_may not take part in any type of village activity. They
are not excommunicated from the village, but they are excluded from
the communal events in village life until they make restitution of
an appropriate sort.

The bg_pagta_expression made the situation explicit and
clearly defined what the Kiskus must do. They went home immediately

and brought two large clay pots full of handi. One was presented

 

with formal respect to the headman with the words, "Receive this

in the good spirit of our ancestors". The second pot was presented
in the same way to the aggrieved father of the young woman with the
words, "Take this, my brother, and do not be offended". Thereafter
the headman invited the penitent Kisku father and son to sit in the
circle near him, and asked that each man be given a leaf-cup of

32291: After this the celebration went on without further comment

about the Kishus and their errors. Much handi was consumed, and

 

the propitiation of the father and son was complete. They would
return to their established place in the council and social activi—

ties of the village.

147

These events demonstrate that the headman and his council
had never defined the case of rape in terms of crime and guilt.
They had only recognized that the public image of a man had been
injured, for that seems to be the import of a weakened right to
bride price. The man had a right to some public restitution; he
needed to be able to say in effect, "The young woman was raped; she
is not promiscuous", when it came to questions of her marriage-
ability. No one needed to be punished, and the fines were very
light; they gave the impression merely that three young men were "a
bit too willing to follow a young woman into the dark on a festival
evening". Such a definition of the situation would have left the
village in peace.

Any person destroying this definition would be breaking the
peace. To punish such a person was somewhat difficult for the
justice of his defense was indisputable. The council would have
been remiss if it had ignored the transgression of pgri§_exogamy
once it was brought into the open. No doubt, if the Kisku father
had pressed his point, the council would have had to bring the
young woman before it; they would have destroyed her reputation
totally. Such an action would have brought great turmoil to the
whole village and there would have probably emerged serious
divisions between the kinsmen of both Kisku households.

Bringing the police into the village from outside the
village system had, in effect, solved the whole problem. Those
who had really disturbed the peace, the fathers of the young men

attempting to defend their sons, had been placed under serious

148

pressure. But the aggrieved father of the young woman had obtained
fifteen rupees more than the village council would have given him,
which was his due for the trouble he had taken in walking to the
police "thanna" and back. The headman and the council had been
vindicated in their judgment; they were, as it turned out, able to
affirm again that the council's justice was far more benign than
justice in the non-Santal world, even though it did not always meet
the demands for individual rights. The Kiskus, even though an
influential family, experienced the negative sanction of their fellow
villagers followed by the redeeming processes of atg_§gggi_through
the authority of the headman.

It may be pointed out that the aggrieved man's resort to
the non-Santal authorities--the police squad from the Hartjuri
thapgar-provides an almost complete example of what Bailey labeled
a mjggg m. Bridge actions are found where two distinct systems
of social relations exist in continguity, as in a situation where a
society is encapsulated within another--the situation of Santal
society. When an actor decides to employ the role he has in one
system to effect his goal attainment in another, the process may
be defined as a bridge action. In the rape case, the aggrieved man
operated in two systems, the village authority system and the local
governmental authority system with its police corps. He found he
could not protect his dignity in the village authority system; it
was obvious no one wanted to deal with a matter of interclan incest

under the circumstances. He therefore resorted to the governmental

149

system and called on the police as an Indian citizen has a right
to do.
The bridge action did not involve a confrontation between
the two systems. The police were well paid for their efforts.
The headman and his fellow council members retained their authority;
they may be said to have strengthened their position in the village.
That the eventual effect of the headman's enactments were
acceptable to the people became manifest in the events of the festive
welcome celebrations, an occasion ready made to bring atg_§gggi_into
full realization again. The village was treated to the spectacle
of a rich man accepting the authority and judgment of the headman
and the traditions of the ancestors. Everyone witnessed the immediate
response of the headman in accepting the contrition of the recalci-
trant villager and silently accepted the fact that the Kishus were
fully restored to their usual position, "in line" with their fellows.
The peace had been kept and the basis for keeping the peace had

endured another complicated test.

Maintaininggthe Village Collectivity
Under both the British and Indian administrations, land
policy has emphasized the principle of individual rights: even
though all members of a gharggj_are granted an equal inheritance
by law, each parcel of land is registered in the name of an indi-
vidual who is responsible for the payment of land tax. On the other
hand, Santal traditions have always emphasized village rights and

collective responsibility: in practice, tradition has allocated to

150

families continuing usufruit rights, but the concept of "free hold",
granting rights to alienate ownership with complete freedom, is
contrary to Santal thought. Whenever matters of land usage come
under the adjudication of the village headman and his council,
Santal tradition gives primary consideration to village needs rather
than to individual rights. It is inevitable that the difference
between these two diametrically opposite traditions would lead to
confrontations. One of the most difficult problems in the encapsu-
lation of Santal society has been the preservation of Santal ideas
of "human rights" as village rights in the face of a strongly indi-
vidualistic encirclement.
The headman of Manjhipur has on several occasions demon-

strated not only his commitment to the Santal traditions with
regard to the preeminence of village rights, but also his personal
ability to protect those traditions in pragmatic situations. One
of the clearest examples, both of his adherence to, and of his
capability to protect, collective interests in his village is given
in the field notes taken in June of 1970:

A bamboo grove was located on the boundary between two neighbors,

Mardi and Kisku. On June 5th Mardi cut two large bamboos from

the grove adjacent to his residence. On June 6th Kisku cut

four bamboos from the same grove. Mardi went to the grove

before Kisku left with the last two bamboos. He carried a club

and told Kisku not to take the bamboo home as it belonged to

him. There was a heated argument, but Kisku took the bamboo

home without any physical violence. Mardi ran to the headman

immediately, complaining that Kisku had stolen his bamboo.

The headman told the godet to assemble all household heads for

kulhi durgp' on the same evening. The headman told each man

to make his claim before the council. Each claimed that his

father had planted the grove many years ago. This was con-
firmed by some of the older men who recalled that the two

 

151

respective fathers had planted the first bamboo roots of the

grove as a joint effort on their common boundary. After some

time both Mardi and Kisku were asked to show the location of

their boundaries on the village map. Each did so while others
. studied the map with them.

After agreement was reached that each had properly acknowledged
his own boundaries, the headman pointed out that the bamboo
grove was not indicated on the map at all. The headman there-
fore pronounced his judgment that the grove which had spread

and grown on both sides of the property boundaries belonged

not only to both men, but to the entire village. Anyone could
cut bamboo from the grove, but they were to first ask permission
from the headman so that no one would take more than he needed.
None of the bamboo was to be sold to anyone inside or outside
the village.

There was immediate agreement among the household heads to this
pronouncement and to the requirement that Mardi and Kisku each

pay four rupees for the purchase of handi for everyone to drink

as the final settlement of the matteFTTTNbither man had four
rupees to give, both being very poor. The headman told them

to bring equal shares of dal (a split pea-like pulse) and together
make a fire to cook it into—a soup-like drink for everyone to
enjoy. They both complied and the men of the village stayed
together for two or three hours in the spirit of ato sagai.

 

The large, highly-tensile and durable bamboo is an extremely
valuable economic asset. (This is the Bambusa arundicea species
which sometimes grows to a height of 100 feet and provides a re-
markably versatile wood-substitute in the construction of ox-carts
or frames under thatched roofs.) Such as asset can enrich a single
individual, a partnership, or an entire village. Under private
ownership, it would bring considerable income either from fellow
villagers or at the weekly market. Under the control of the village
authorities it would bring benefit to many families.

In the case described in the field notes above, the invest-
ment of two villagers of one generation produced a conflict between

their sons in the next generation. If the investment had been made

152

by a single family, or by close branches of a single pfig, the contro-
versy would probably have never been brought to the attention of the
headman, and the profits would have enriched the heirs united by the
kinship ties. But this investment was made by two unrelated partners,
and their informal relationship did not survive them.

The failure of the partnership to survive the death of the
original investors may be explained as due to the lack of traditional
support in Santal culture for what is so clearly recognized by non-
Santal cultures as the formal partnership. Santal culture explicitly
governs the economic responsibilities connected with village member-
ship and kinship ties in pgg, ghargnj_and garig. Individual impulses
(or profit motives) are moderated by these well~accepted responsi-
bilities. But partnership is not one of the accepted or regular
"social categories" in Santal society. Individuals form partner-
ships because of purely personal predilections, and the association
is based on a somewhat temporary congeniality. Such a partnership
operates in a cultural vacuum in Manjhipur. Consequently, strong
differences in economic interests are likely to dissolve a partner-
ship quickly.

When it became apparent to the sons of the original in-
vestors that the bamboos were coming to maturity and that there
would be considerable profit in controlling the clump, the kind of
profit motives encouraged by non-Santal models began to develop in
the cultural vacuum. No social definitions were available to
modify the inflaming effect of the private motives. Partnership

was dissolved and untempered rivalry broke out. The rivalry disturbed

153

the cooperative tenor of the village and the contest over the bamboo
clump came to the immediate attention of the headman and the village
council.

Perhaps the most striking feature of this enactment was the
rapidity with which the village came to consensus. The headman seems
to have understood the situation to be one in which only one con-
clusiOn was possible. The fact that he called the kulhi durup' within
a short time after the conflict situation gives the occasion the
atmosphere of controlled urgency.

There was no extended discussion in the village council.

The witness of the older men was necessary to bring out some perti-
nent facts in the case, particularly the fact that the clumps were
first planted as a partnership enterprise. But no argument seems

to have developed once the two men in question had presented their
positions. When the headman delivered the judgment there seemed to
be immediate acceptance; even by the contending parties. The rights
of the two individuals to the bamboos were ignored as though they
had never existed, and the welfare of the village as a whole was
strongly emphasized.

Later the headman explained his position:

"Everyone needs bamboo. Some need it to use in making a new
roof. Some need it to repair their ox-carts. Some cut it to
sell in case of emergency. It is ggr_bamboo. (Santali employs
both inclusive and exclusive pronouns, this was the inclusive
995,) It is not one man's property. I knew it was not on the
map, but not everyone knew. If the bamboo had been awarded
equally to Mardi and Kisku they would have continued to fight
over it. They might have cut it all down to sell and wasted

the money. Now everyone knows and everyone is happy with the
fact that it is village property. If Mardi or Kisku need

154
Bamboo they will get it without any question, but they will not
waste it."

The reference to the village maps, on which the headman laid
particular emphasis, should be explained. On the official maps of
the Revenue Department, all property which is specifically owned and
controlled by individuals or particular authorities is clearly marked
as such. This is true of the trees which stand in the common pastures
of the village or along the borders between landholdings. All trees
not so marked would be regarded as the common property of the village;
the marked trees were owned by the government, (if there were such
trees; in actuality all trees held in common were long ago cut down
and used by the villagers). The clump of bamboos has many of the
uses of timber trees and can easily be compared to the trees which
have disappeared. The lack of specific labels of ownership of the
official land which was clearly marked as to its ownership and tax
responsibility. An Indian court would have found little difficulty
in drawing a line through the clump of bamboo to give title to the
contending parties of that which fell inside of their respective
boundaries. The headman was apparently conscious that the collective
interests, which he wanted to guard as custodian of Santal tradi-
tions, would have normally received less credence before non-Santal
authority. As long as the case was kept within the bounds of Santal
jurisdiction, village rights would be safe, and as long as the
contending parties were persuaded that the non-Santal authorities
would side with the headman--the pradhan--they were unlikely to go
outside the village system with the case.

155

As the headman had presumably expected, his prompt action
averted the intrusion of outsiders into the matter. The parties in
contention were conforming members of the village and generally
more comfortable with their traditional setting of village solidarity
than in a situation requiring legal representation in the non-Santal
court system. Should the contending parties have taken their case
outside the village, even to the village market in an attempt to
gain support from kinsmen or neighboring villagers, or had there
been a delay in the action of the headman, the non-Santal world might
have entered the situation aggressively and persuaded the parties to
borrow money for a court case and in the end exploit the already
waning resources of Manjhipur.

Maintainin Proprieties: The Headman
an Kasima Marriage

 

The role of the headman in the seven forms of marriage varies:
the greater the social approval accorded to the marriage, the greater
is the participation of the headman. The role of the headman in the

most elaborate form of marriage, hapramko bapla (ancestor's marriage),

 

“traditional marriage" can be seen in Mukherjea's description of such
a marriage. No comparable description of the Santal kagjma_form of
marriage has appeared in the literature, even though it is the form
most frequently practiced among village Santals. This is not a unique
form of marriage; other ethnic groups follow quite similar ceremonies.
The following account of the Santal gaging is taken from field notes

recorded in January of 1971. The account will be followed by an

 

156

analysis of the relative importance of the roles involved, namely the
roles of the principals--the groom and the bride, the roles of the
parents or heads of households, the roles of the elders of the
villages, and the role of the headman and his assistant in charge

of youth, the jog manjhi.

 

The day to day account of Kasima, January 1971:
January 20th

In the evening of the third day of Sohrae festival the young
women were dancing, arm-locked in a line of about 12 indi-
viduals. The dancing took place at the end of the main street
of the village. The young women, some of whom were married,
were probably between the ages of 15 and 30 years. The leader
of the group, Champa, was about 25 years old, but unmarried.
She displayed well her agility as a dancer and led the singing
as they danced with a clear, somewhat piercing voice.

One of the young men, Barku, a drummer who played for the girls
to dance, continued to watch Champa with the same keen interest
he had shown throughout the three days of festivities. He was
her junior in age by four or five years. He was from a village
about four miles from Manjhipur, but had often seen Champa at
the weekly market in Hartjuri. They were not strangers. He
met her privately when the dancing stopped, long after midnight.
This had been arranged somehow during the long hours of festivi-
ties. She went home with him to stay in his father's courtyard
for the remainder of the night. The next morning Barku intro-
duced Champa to his mother by simply stating to her that he had
brought a guest who would be staying for some time.

January let

On the let morning Champa's parents asked her freinds where
she was. Having been told of the young man Barku, the father
went immediately to the jog manjhi and asked him to go to
Barku's village to inquire abbut Champa. The jog manjhi went
on the evening of the let. In the meanwhile everyone—in
Manjhipur discovered that Champa had gone away to Sitapur with
Barku.

 

The jog manjhi entered Barku's village calling out in a loud
voice?""Mayam“panjaet' kanan", (I am following blood). He was
directed—EBTTHETHBUsE'OTTEHE'headman where he related the reason
for his presence and the name of the young man's father. The

157

headman immediately called some young men and asked if Champa
was with Barku. He also inquired whether Barku had brought
Champa of her own free will. The replies to both questions
were affirmative. The headman then called Barku's father and
asked him to bring the young couple with him. After the usual
ritualized greeting of dobok' johar the village headman turned
directly to Barku and Champa, in the presence of the visiting
jog manjhi, and asked only one question, "Kasima reak' din
afifioepe 5g pap?" (Will you set a day for kasima or not?)

 

 

This was Champa's chance to speak for herself. Although she
was alone in a strange village she was well assured of the
protective presence of the jog manjhi she knew so well, along
with the assurance of the headmafi‘fifib'represented a position
she trusted explicitly. If she said 39, Barku and his father
would have had to pay a fine of seven rupees (about a dollar)
to the jog manjhi of Manjhipur who would have taken Champa back
to her father. But Champa stood silent and after a moment
looked over at Barku who uttered, "Yes". The headman said
nothing, but the jog manjhi asked the preferred day for the
kasima. The young—maETETTather was quietly consulted
momentarily after which Barku informed both the jog manjhi of
Manjhipur and the headman of his own that Saturday—(JafiTTZBrd)
should be convenient. At this the young couple returned to
his father's house where Champa continued to stay with Barku.
The jog manjhi stayed in Sitapur to find out more about the
village and the family of Barku.

 

 

January 22nd

In the morning, about 7:00 a.m. the jog manjhi reported the
previous day's events first to Champa‘s'fatfier and then to the
headman. Champa was in Sitapur at the household of Barku's
father. She was very happy and the kasima date was set for
Saturday (the following day).

January 23rd

About 3:00 p.m. the party of men set out from Manjhipur to com-
plete the kasima in Sitapur. The party included the headman,
jog manjhi, two other village elders, the father of the bride
and'four'or five other men, including Champa's brother and
father's brother. The party of 12 men arrived at the headman's
house in Sitapur together and were properly greeted and asked
to sit on the simple rope beds, on one or two wooden chairs and
on the edge of the mud-floored porch. Barku's father was
informed by the Sitapur jog manjhi that the men had arrived
from Manjhipur.

 

Instead of going to meet the guests, Barku's father, along
with Barku, the village elders and other available household

158

heads went to their usual meeting place for a kulhi durgp', on
the eastern end of the village. They discussed at length how
much Barku's father should consent to pay Champa's father in
bride price. This discussion took place within an hour, after
which most of the men, including the headman and the elders went
to Barku's father's courtyard. The jog manjhi of Sitapur went
to the headman's house and escorted thé'gfiests'to the host's
courtyard. The Manjhipur guests were properly greeted with

the appropriate dobok' johar after which they were invited to
sit opposite their counterparts in a semicircle.

 

 

The headman of Sitapur called Barku before the company and
asked him if he liked Champa or not, and if all was peaceful
between them. Barku uttered the affirmative and was dismissed

to the outer circle. Thereupon, Barku's father gave five rupees
to the 'o manjhi of Manjh1pur who 1n turn gave 1t to Champa s

father ffiTT‘VTew of everyone present. At first Champa's
father refused to accept the five rupees and said that he wanted
at least two cows and 300 rupees as a minimum bride price. For
a time there was much jovial titter-tatter among the men with
many jokes passed among them regarding strong wives, many sons
and the proof of manhood. Finally, Champa's father accepted

the five rupees as a public symbol of the marriage contract,

and Barku's father gave the sign for his wife to bring three

lar e clay pots of h ndi along with a supply of leaf-cups. Much
han i was consumed WfiiTa'the badgering and bargaining for the

"real" bride price settlement.continued between Champa's father
and the jog manjhis of both Villages. Ne1ther headman entered

into thecconversation but carried on a private conversation
which appeared not to be concerned with the event at hand.

Champa's father finally agreed (with the approval of his older
brother, the household head) to accept 140 rupees in cash in-
stead of a heifer which Barku's father wanted to give, along
with 20 rupees. The money was to be paid in cash within a week.
The festive drinking continued for some time after the agreement
was announced and the men of Manjhipur walked home a bit un-
steadily about midnight on January 23rd.

January 28th

The jog manjhi of Sitapur accompanied Barku's elder brother to
ManjfiTDUr ffie fOllowing Thursday evening where the 140 rupees
was given to Champa's father. Barku's father had sent his
eldest son to market with a young ox to obtain the money. The
two men from Sitapur had been cordially greeted and given
refreshment, but they did not stay in Manjhipur for more than

an hour. Just as they were leaving the jog manjhi asked
Champa's father for an extra t1p for haVTng'caused'Barku's
father to keep his word concerning the bri e price. He left

159

muttering that Manjhipur was a cheap village because he had
received only three rupees.

February lst

_ Champa appeared on the path coming into Manjhipur from Sitapur.
She was carrying a large clay pot which had been colored with
white clay. This is the traditional handi container carried by
women who return to their natal village—as'a guest kinsmen.
Champa was followed within five minutes by her new husband.

She entered her father's courtyard and stood humbly until her
own mother asked her to put down her burden, which she placed
on the courtyard floor. She proceeded immediately to debok to
her mother. The mother then called the father and other house-
hold members who received the young couple with the usual
dobok' johar. Champa's father then summoned a few neighbors

to come and share the pera hor handi (guest kinsman rice beer)
which they did late into the night, with Barku in their company.
Champa helped her mother and the other women of the household
prepare a simple meal after which she spent some time in the
background talking with her female friends and relatives.

 

 

February 2nd

In the morning, before Champa left Manjhipur, she accompanied
her father to the headman's house. After both had been asked
to enter the courtyard and were greeted according to custom,
Champa's father stated that she had come to pay her respect.
She was leaving the village of her fathers. The headman said
nothing, but rose from his stool and went outside the courtyard
to the manjhi than. Champa and her father followed him in

silence. As they stood beside the manjhi than she gave the
headman one rupee and thanked him for being a faithful manjhi
haram along with other words of personal praise and thanksgiving.

He accepted the one rupee in the name of the ancestors and wished
her a long and happy life in her new village. He blessed her
with the hope that as the ancestors had given life to Manjhipur,
their spirit would protect her and make her full of strength to
bear many sons to her husband.

 

 

The headman then summoned his wife to bring a small clay pot
of handi which he presented to her to take to her new village

and share with her new household. Champa bowed before the head-
man in gratitude and turned away to join her husband who had
waited for her at her father's house. The young couple went to
their village together.

In analyzing this account let us note first the roles of the

groom and the bride. It may be asked what degree of independence is

160

given in Santal society to the young people in the selection of

their mates. One measure of independence is the freedom given them
to meet, observe and judge each other in a variety of situations.

In the above case it will be noted that visits to the weekly market
provide some opportunity for marriageables to observe each other.

In this case the conclusive decision to marry was made at the time

of a Santal festival where the young people were engaged in the
traditional Santal dances. This festival was held in an exclusively
Santal setting in which all participants were well aware of their
most subtle traditions of mate selection. Mate selection based on
Santal identity was facilitated by approved normative interaction

in the festive situation. The observation and assessment of partners
was based on approved standards: for instance, the dances were
Santal dances which were accompanied with songs appropriate to the
festive occasion, and those who were adept at the dancing and singing
*were highly attractive by the standards of Santal aesthetics. At
the same time, a Santal festival includes the entire village, com-

plete with the presence of the jog manjhi and the parents 0f the

 

(youth who more actively participate in the dancing and singing. The
freedom of this couple to mutually select each other was structured
by the norms and values of their cultural heritage; the "rules of
'the game" of selection were formulated by approved traditions in
the arena of the festival, and this decision was made in concert
with those ”rules".

The couple mutually decided to spend the night together.

While the rendezvous was private, it could not be much of a secret;

161

the young woman's companions were able to inform her parents with
sufficient detail for the parents to give it its proper definition
in Santal culture; gasjmg_was indicated. Although the rendezvous
seems to have been somewhat spontaneous and impulsive, the fact that
the couple went to his father's courtyard for the night indicates
that the act was culturally defined. The choice of the father's
courtyard brought his household into the whole process. The pair
was integrated immediately into the household of the young man;
residence is patrilocal in Santal society.

Another aspect of the 59§1m9_marriage involved the parental
roles when the couple decided to marry. The payment of the bride
price required the inclusion of their households in the decision.
The father of the groom would have to pay an agreed upon bride price
to the father of the bride. Though the decision on the amount later
occupied much time and effort by many individuals, including the
elders of both villages along with the households, Santal society
does not generally allow differences between parties in matters of
bride price to prevent an otherwise mutually acceptable marriage.
Furthermore, the payment of bride price does not usually endanger
the family's economic welfare.

In the morning, after the couple had spent the night together
in the young man's courtyard, there was no emotional reaction in the
homestead. No formalities accompanied the report of mate selection
to the father of the household. The absence of ritual at this point
can be explained best by pointing out that Santal society has clearly

defined and accepted the roles of married life in such a way that no

162

ritual explanation, redefinition or didactic intensification is
needed and no elaborate rite of passage is necessary to diminish
tensions or fears associated with the change in status of the
principals or their families.

The young man's family did not attempt to formally communi-
cate with either the village elders of Sitapur or with the young
woman's family in Manjhipur. The village elders, especially the

headman and the jog manjhi took the chain of events as a matter of

 

common occurrence. The young woman's family, however, was prompt to
enter upon its role. The young woman had not simply "run off" with

an irresponsible young man, and information to this effect was quickly
made available to her father. In the kasima marriage which was
indicated the father would be associated with, and have the assistance
of, his village peers and the village elders. In the next stage of
the marriage, the decision of the bride price and its payment, the
difficulties of the young woman's father would be merged with the
interests of his village elders as both households and village elders
became involved.

When the jog manjhi from Manjhipur went to Sitapur to inquire

 

about Champa and the intention of Barku he went directly to the
house of the village headman. The initial contact between the 199_
‘mgnihi and the headman was marked with an explicit desire for con-
sensus; the two men did not assume the roles of adversaries, even
though both understood that bargaining over bride price was soon to

begin.

163

It was the responsibility of the headman of Sitapur to deter-
mine the intention of the young man of his village in the presence

of the jog manjhi of the young woman's village. That this intention

 

was made manifest by the young couple who had the right to confirm
or reject their decision in the presence of the village elders gave
them an opportunity to exercise the type of egalitarian rights so
often a part of life in the Santal village. The young woman knew
that her freedom to withdraw from the marriage was protected and the
young man was not compelled to accept responsibility for his decision
of the night before without a second thought. Had she decided not

to stay in Sitapur as a bride the young man would have been asked to

pay eight or ten rupees to the jog manjhi who would have taken the

 

girl back to her father with no further interaction expected between
the principals, their families or their village elders. The public
act of deciding to set the kgsjma_day and go through with their de-
cision may be regarded as the central act of the marriage process.
By this act mate selection was given social recognition, even though
this was only the beginning of kasjmg_formalities.

The process of settling and paying the bride price was the
responsibility of the household heads with the approval of their
kinsmen and village elders. The bargaining may be said to have

begun with the jog manjhi's inquiries in the young man's village

 

during his first visit. He had remained in the village ostensibly
to find out what type of village was taking a daughter of Manjhipur.
More obviously he enjoyed the hospitality offered him while actually

he was observing every evidence of the economic status of both the

164

village in general and the family of Barku in particular. But there
are other considerations involved in setting the bride price. The
durability of marriage is important, for the young woman's family

is concerned that they not have a divorced daughter returning to
them at an extremely unmarriageable age. To make an assessment of
the durability of the marriage (and the less durable a marriage,

the greater the need for the insurances of a high bride price)

would keep the jog manjhi alert to a number of details about life

 

in the village and in the home of the young man. Deviation from
Santal norms in village life could have intense effect on the marital

relations of every couple. After a few cups of handi, Santal V11-

lagers usually become revealingly honest about their neighbors and

about themselves. The investigative task of the jog manjhi was not

 

an impossible one. Undoubtedly, he returned to Manjhipur with much
more information than could be determined by this observer.

The "day of kasima? was the day on which the negotiations
and bargaining on bride price were done; it went forward to a con-
clusion according to "the rules of the game". However, the "day of
pkgsjma? was also the day of festivity; it was only on this day that
any eating and drinking are reported. Though the anthropolotical
literature on marriage rites presents a great variety of procedures,
it seems unusual to find the combination of marriage feasting with
the pecuniary negotiations. It is generally true that bargaining
on bride price or dowry is divisive in its effect on the families
concerned, while eating and drinking serves to unify the parties or

at least temper the conflicts. In the kasima marriage the Santals

165

have served their pervasive concern for consensus by combining both
the divisive and unifying aspects of marriage by kasima_into a single
day of mingled festivity and negotiations.

The ritualized activities of the "day of kasima? were
obviously arranged to minimize confrontations. In the first place,
the two parties in the negotiations were headed by the most respected
dignitaries available, the headmen of the two villages concerned.

No third party or external neutral referee was needed: the negoti-
ations needed neither mediator nor adjudicator. The two headmen
present could be expected to uphold the cultural norms and tradi-
tions as well as the "rules of the game" in the arena of negotiations.
In the second place, the two parties were not permitted to come
immediately into the arena. There was what might be called a
"cooling off period" for the party of 12 men from the young woman's
village. For the negotiating party of the young man's village a ’
period of organization and decision was necessarily made possible
with a short kulhi durup'. This period of preparation was necessary
in the young man's village because a larger number of people were
involved than the selected party from Manjhipur and the negotiations
for bride price, as other matters affecting the lives of the entire
community, merited consensus and terms within established guidelines
lest the amount offered be too much or too little. After the period
of "cooling off" and rest from their walk the party from Manjhipur

were escorted ceremonially by the jog manjhi t0 the courtyard of the

 

host where the organized and properly arranged representatives of

the young man's village awaited.

166

After the traditional greetings were given and each person
was recognized by his position, the negotiations began with two
ritualized acts. First, the groom was called before the negotiators
and asked formally if he wished the final stages of the kasjmg_
process to proceed; through his public affirmation he indicated
that his gains in the marriage warranted the expenditure of the
time, energy and the bride price which must be given.

The second act reveals much about the significance of the
bride price. The father of the groom offered, through the medium

of the jog manjhis, a token amount of five rupees to symbolize his

 

willingness to accept the young woman as a companion for his son.
The father of the bride was persuaded to accept this offer only
after he let it be known that he was not anxious to give up a faith-
ful and healthy member of his household. The giving of the five
rupees was a symbol that, whatever the final amount agreed upon,
nothing would be done to void the relationship already established
between the young man and the young woman. There would be no "hold
out"; no ultimatums would be served to disrupt the flow of negoti-
ations. The acceptance of the five rupees from the father of the
groom symbolized the establishment of sincere willingness by the
young woman's father that the negotiation would go forward without
fear of withdrawal or failure. The fact that jovial rejection of
the five rupees took place did not negate the sincerity on the part
of either party, it served well as the first act of informal inter-
action among people who did not know each other on a personal basis

but who knew their roles, the rules and the situation at hand. It

167

may be said that after this act of giving and receiving the five
rupees, the enjoyment of festivities overshadowed the bargaining
process as the focus of the day's activities.

The bride price, decided upon in the late hours of the
evening of feasting, was paid at the time agreed upon. The payment
was not made without the presence of village authorities; the jgg_
manjhi from the young man's village. The absence of the headman at
the time of payment indicates that there was no fear that the agree-
ment would not be kept.

The marriage process was completed with one last rite. A
few days after the bride price had been paid, the couple returned
to the young woman's village for a formal visit. The young woman
returned to her natal village in the new status of a married daughter
returning for a visit: she came back with evidence that she was an

accepted daughter-in-law in her husband's father's household. The

pot of pera ho; handi was given to Champa by her father-in-law to

 

take back to her father's household as a symbol that the negotiations
and rites of kggjmg_were fulfilled. The bride price had been paid
and received and the daughter of one man's household had been given
as a bride to another man's household where she was accepted with
the full rights and expectations of an affinal kinsmen.

The visit of the young couple to her natal village was
terminated with the benediction and blessing of the headman of
the village. In this brief, dignified enactment, the headman as
manjhi haram (the respected father of the village) gave formal

 

recognition to her departure as a daughter of the village. This

168

act is more formally a part of hapramko bapla (traditional marriage)

 

but is not neglected as the conclusion of the kggjma_marriage. With
the departure of the young woman from her village, given the blessing
of the headman, the villagers cannot demand anything more from her.
Neither can she expect or demand anything more from her natal village.
She becomes essentially a part of her husband's household with no
claims of inheritance or physical claims of any type whatever from
her gharonj or b§§, The departing daughter leaves to begin an
entirely new set of relationships.

The headmen of the two villages involved in the kasima form
of marriage play significant roles. They do not interfere with any
aspect of the process; the principals and their kinsmen, along with
other village elders carry out the performance of their respective
roles. Nevertheless, the influential presence of the headmen as
symbols of traditional dignity and morality is manifest at all
points where tensions are likely to arise. During the festivities
the two men eat and drink with the others; they are not given
differential treatment. But their presence appears to effect both
the esprit,g§“gggp§_of the festivities and the consensus attained
in negotiations. The kgsjmg_marriage process, like the traditional
marriage becomes a village concern which necessitates the awareness,
participation and final blessing of the headman. Although his active

role may seem less pronounced than the jog manjhi's, the headman is

 

ultimately responsible for the people of his village and is the one
who gives his blessing to the addition of new members through marriage

and the departure of village children by marriage.

169

The examination of kasima marriage deals with traditional
Santal culture. The principals belong to Santal villages where
Santal headmen are able to maintain the norms of their heritage.
It is necessary to discuss some of the difficulties observed in a
village of cultural pluralism like Dangrajolha.

In a Santal village like Manjhipur the kasima marriage does
not emphasize any “purely religious" elements. There is no invo-
cation to the village bgfiga; there is only one visit to the village

manjhi than; when the married bride formally leaves her natal

 

village. Actually, the marriage process from beginning to end
deals with individuals and social entities without reference to
superhuman concerns. This secularism should permit the headman of
Dangrajolha, inspite of his conversion to Christianity, to perform
his role in the process. Nevertheless, he is loath to do so because,
by his Christian definitions, the kasima_is declared to be no mar-
riage at all. His unwillingness to play his role in this rather
frequently enacted rite is apprehended by his people, and the result
is a general reaction of alienation and disturbance among them.
When, for reasons of expediency, the headman of Dangrajolha has
performed his role in the kasima_marriage, he has failed to elevate
the occasion to the level of dignity observed in the case narated
above. There is some hesitancy to hold kasima_marriages in
Dangrajolha, and less desirable forms are practiced.

In Dangrajolha marriages in the Christian form are performed
vrith the headman's blessing. Christian authorities are called in to

elevate the rituals into "acceptable" religious ceremonies. Bride

170

price considerations are relegated to sub_rosa negotiations and

festivities exclude the traditional handi drinking. Cultural

 

confusion results from non-traditional rites performed in a social

vacuum.

Containin the Deviant: Two Generations
C allenge_the System

In l920 the headman of Manjhipur found his authority chal-
lenged by a Santal who had gained experience in the non-Santal world.
In the challenge the headman of the heterogeneous village of
Dangrajolha played an irregular role; the Pargana assembly of the
area provided an authority supporting traditional structures; and
the Sub-Divisional Officer in charge acted in a parallel role,
avoiding confrontation with Santal tradition and making possible
the resolution of conflict in a manner suitable to the Santals and
the individual challenger alike.

In l9l9,‘Sobhan Tudu, the elder of two sons of a Santal
household in the village of Paharjuri, returned from service with
the British Indian Army. He had fought in the First World War and

had continued in the army for some time after the close of the war.

 

He returned to the h9§_disom wearing western clothes (mostly old
army uniforms), with some cash wealth, and speaking both Hindi and
English. All of this very much impressed the younger men of his
village and brought him some recognition from non-Santal officials
and British officers in the Sub-Divisional headquarters.

Sobhan Tudu wanted to establish himself as a cultivator
of good paddy land in or near his natal village. He had apparently

171

learned enough about the non-Santal world to realize that prospects
for him in that realm would not bring him a position commensurate

with his achievements in the world outside of the hgr_disom. Further-

 

more, his ideal of a "good" life was essentially Santal.

Sobhan became acquainted with the village headman of
Dangrajolha, a person whose ties with the Santal world had been
modified by his conversion to Christianity, and who, as a consequence,
gave evidence of sympathy toward individuals with a deviant experi-
ence like that of Sobhan. The headman of Dangrajolha informed Sabhan
of a piece of land which he thought might become available under the
proper circumstance.

The piece of land in question was some 28 acres in extent
and fertile. It was not registered in the name of any one particular
person, but it was included in the village boundaries of Manjhipur,
and therefore the headman of Dangrajolha was not in a position to
turn it over to Sobhan.

The land had been a matter of controversy for some time,
and the headman of Dangrajolha had tried to gain posession of it.

It is evident that when the war veteran, Sobhan, appeared on the
scene, the Dangrajolha headman saw an opportunity to use him in
some way, either to frustrate the headman of Manjhipur with whom
he had had conflict or perhaps even to obtain a part of the land
for himself.

In l9l3, a young man of Manjhipur, who had some sort of
claim on the land, made a deal with the headman of Dangrajolha,

for'a financial consideration, by which the headman thought he

172

could establish claim to the land. The details of that transaction
are not fully known, but the whole arrangement was cancelled when

the revenue settlement of 19l8 was carried out in the area. The
headman of Dangrajolha had tried, on this occasion, to have the land
registered as a part of the area within the boundaries of Dangrajolha.
This was not permitted, and the land was left under the Manjhipur
jurisdiction. The ownership of the land could not be verified, and
therefore it remained without a specific owner (and land-tax payer)

in the control of the Manjhipur headman and village council.

The headman of Manjhipur cultivated a portion of the land
in 19l8 and l9l9, and paid the land tax, though he did not register
the land under his own name. All the while, the headman of
Dangrajolha viewed the parcel with the hope of gaining control of
it in one way or another, according to reliable informants.

In consultation with acquaintances at the headquarters of
the Sub-Division in Paurapur, and with the headman of Dangrajolha,
the veteran, Sobhan, determined to resort to the non-Santal procedure
(rf bansgari to gain possession of the much desired land. This
involved, first, assuring the court in Paurapur that the land was
inithout previous owner in the records of the village of Manjhipur.
'This was done without personal reference to the headman of Manjhipur,
for-copies of the village records were available in the Revenue
()ffice of the Sub-Divisional headquarters. After assurance of a
(ilear record Sobhan had to prove that no one was literally "in
possession" of the land, for under Indian law "possession" by an

active cultivator is of prime importance to the definition of

173

ownership; the cultivator's rights must be first determined before
ownership can be transferred. The headman of Dangrajolha testified
that the land, which was on the borders of his village, though
outside it, was not being cultivated and in part he was right for
the cultivation of the land by the headman of Manjhipur was only
partial.

Having satisfied the two cardinal requirements, the court
permitted Sobhan to take possession of the land by the method called
bansgari. Bansgari was never accepted in Santal tradition. It
smacks of arbitrary power and lacks open and free discussion and
decision in the village council. It is abhorrent to the Santal
villagers. In this procedure, the court sends an amjg_(a land
surveyor) employed by the government and holding the power of police
protection, along with the claimant of the land, to the site. The
surveyor and his assistants enter the land to the accompaniment of
village drums (in this case supplied from Dangrajolha by the Doms).
The drums are supposed to attract the presence of any who might
Tcontest the assumption of possession. The amig_then drives a number
(If stakes into the soil marking the boundary and symbolizing that
'the court authority has given possession and ownership to the party
vrith the claim. It was in May of 1920 that Sobhan obtained his
claim on the land by this method of bansgari.

Immediately after the performance of bansgari, the headman
of Manjhipur took two steps in rapid succession. First, along with
(Ither'village elders of Manjhipur, he pulled up the stakes planted
by the _am_i_r1, and began immediately to plough the land; it was the

174

season for paddy land to be prepared for the coming of the monsoons
in June. Second, the Manjhipur headman appealed to the Pargana
assembly, the most prestiguous and influential ally in the tradi-
tional instrumentalities of Santal society. As soon as Sobhan
discovered the steps taken by the Manjhipur headman he filed a
law-suit against the Manjhipur headman and elders for tresspassing.

The case of the land was now to be examined by two differ-
ent systems of adjudication, the Pargana assembly of the Santals
and the Sub-Divisional authorities. The former took action almost
immediately; the latter proceeded with the delays common to bureau-
cratic judiciaries.

The Manjhipur headman presented his case before the Pargana
assembly in terms of Santal tradition. He recognized the authority
of the assembly and requested its assistance in condeming the act
of bansgari. He accused Sobhan Tudu of resorting to methods and
institutions outside the Santal system; he pointed out that Santals

did not need to employ the method of bansgari and that it was the
duty of the true hor hopon to ask his brothers for their judgment

 

before appealing elsewhere in the matter of land acquisition. He

suggested that Sobhan was guilty of conspiracy, also contrary to

the traditions of the Santals who believe in coming to their
decisions in open and frank discussion; in this conspiracy, he
(declared, the headman of Dangrajolha had taken part (a person who
had not been as assiduous in maintaining Santal customs as a headman

should be). Finally, he maintained that he had personally begun to

175

bring the land into cultivation as a village property, and had plans
to bring the area fully into cultivation in the coming season.

The Pargana assembly called both Sobhan and the headman of
Dangrajolha to appear before it, even though the natal village of
Sobhan and Dangrajolha were both outside the territory of the
assembly representatives. In l920 this summons was not to be refused.
The two appeared and gave every evidence of respect to the assembly.
The headman of Dangrajolha was questioned first. His testimony was
frank and open: he did not claim any rights to the land, recognizing
that the action at the revenue settlement in 1918 was final and
accepted by him; he denied trying to regain possession of the land
for himself, saying that he had freely relinquished his claims; he
swore that the headman of Manjhipur had not cultivated the land since
the settlement, and in this his declaration conflicted with that
made by the Manjhipur headman. As to the "conspiracy" charge, he
(openly confessed that he had aided and encouraged Sobhan to obtain
the land through bansgari.

Sobhan was then examined by the Pargana assembly. He was
asked why he had tried to get possession of the land through bansgari
vvithout first approaching the Santal authorities, the headman of
Manjhipur and the village council; he was also asked to explain why
he had brought the 99.29321" into confrontation with the outside
authorities by filing a suit against a village headman. Sobhan had
cuily one defense: he said that he had instituted the court procedures

arud resorted to bansgari because he had become accustomed to British

176

law through his years in the military, and he confessed that he had

neglected the traditions of the ancestors even after returning to

the hog disom. He then proceeded to express his sorrow and shame

at having started the law suit, which could not be dropped at that

 

point, but he reiterated his strong desire to cultivate the land as
a good Santal.

After many hours of deliberation during which the traditional
values of Santal society were repeatedly reiterated in scores of
different ways by numerous assembly members, producing a powerful
flood of social suggestion and group pressure, the parganic' called
for a decision by the assembly. The decision was formulated in
typical Santal fashion. First, Sobhan was informed that his "true
brothers" of the £9! hgpgn_were trying to preserve control of their
village lands and to prevent infringement upon the rights of the
Santal village by those who would alienate the rights of villagers
to the control and cultivation of their soil. Next, Sobhan was told
that he had committed no error in desiring the land in Manjhipur;
his error lay in bypassing the local and Santal means for obtaining
'the land. He was particularly condemned for bringing shame and
‘loss of status upon his fellow Santals and their authorities by his
appeal to non-Santal authorities and the use of bansgari which was
alien to Santal procedures. The parqanic', speaking for the whole
assembly, reminded Sobhan that he was no longer living in the "great
world" of the Great War; he was now living in MM: the land of
the true men, and must adhere to Santal ways and rules. He was

advised to move his residence to Manjhipur, if he wanted to cultivate

177

the soil of Manjhipur, and there to live in peace and unity with his
brothers, and so continue in the favor and blessing of the spirits
of the ancestors.

The headman of Manjhipur was instructed to present a formal
plea to the Sub-Divisional magistrate, requesting him to instruct
Sobhan to begin residence in Manjhipur as a land holder in that
village.

The hearing ended with the humble acceptance of judgment by
Sobhan and his allies. Then Sobhan was fined in the typical way;
he was called upon to supply rice beer for the entire Pargana assembly
and the interested witnesses who had joined the well publicized
hearing. Everyone remained together far into the night, drinking
handl and talking freely while groups of younger men beat their
drums around them. There was much story-telling about events modern
and ancient, and when the assembly finally dispersed, Santal esprit.
gghgggpg_had been restored and Sobhan had gained a degree of accept-
ance with most of the assembly members.

Several weeks after the Pargana assembly had made its position
clear, the case instituted by Sobhan against those who had "trespassed"
on his land came before the magistrate of the Sub-Division. A copy
of the findings of the court are given in Appendix D, page 299. As
expected, Sobhan was given title and possession of the land. How-
ever, after the recorded judgment was given, the magistrate instructed
Sobhan that, as a landholder in Manjhipur he was expected to be a
resident of that village. There is no record in the Sub-Divisional

(rffices that a communication had reached the magistrate from either

178

the Pargana assembly or the headman of Manjhipur, but the instruc-
tions of the court indicate that the magistrate had been appraised
of the decision reached in the Pargana assembly. The instruction
given to Sobhan to move into Manjhipur as a resident indicates the
continued policy of the Government to cooperate with the local
authority of the Santal village elders.

Sobhan moved to Manjhipur and established his house in the
residential area of that village. Since he had come to the village
under exceptional circumstances, his first years of residence were
regarded as a period of probation, but with the passing years he
gained popularity and respect (always reserved in some quarters)
among the people of Manjhipur, for his contributions to the discus-
sions of the kulhi durup', of which he became a faithful member,
were always characterized by apparent good judgment in conformity

with hapramko ak' dustur. To some in Manjhipur, his adherence to

 

Santal loyalties were somewhat suspect, for he made frequent trips
to the Sub-Divisional town of Paurapur, where he maintained friend-
ships not approved in Manjhipur, and his wealth and his influence
with Government officers passing through the area were further
reasons for considering him, still, a marginal member of the village.

He died in 1944, leaving two sons to share the 28 acres of land.

The 1968 Challengeto the Santal System
The kinsmen of Sobhan Tudu, who had been a deviant in 1920,
'tested the Santal traditions again in 1968. The challenge ended as
'it had in 1920, with the reassertion of the customary authority of

179

village council and the headman. In 1968, however, there was no
radical resort to non-Santal authorities or confrontation with
tradition in the manner of Sobhan's action in 1920. Rather, a small
innovation was proposed in customary procedures and these were
actually accepted as congenial with Santal norms of justice.

In 1920, Sobhan was granted ownership and possession of 28
acres of good land, at the cost of settling in the village of
Manjhipur where the land was located. He also had to buy rice beer
in quantity to bring his brother Santals back to a sense of concord
among themselves and with him after dealing with the complicated
case.

The challenge in the 1968 case was made by a grandson of
Sobhan, a young man named Nirmal. (See kinship chart on page 180.)
This young man was a member of the third generation of the b§§_
which had extensive--and generally successful--contacts outside the
Santal village. The grandfather had fought with the British Indian
army in the First Great War (W.W. I). The father of Nirmal had
fought with the British Indian army in the Second Great War (W.W. II).
Nirmal, as well as his senior cousin, Timothy, had extensive schooling
in a modern educational institution; the older cousin also served
in the Indian army after Independence. And yet in this more sophisti-
cated generation, the challenge to traditions was much less serious
than in their grandfather's, and it was presented with due regard to
'the Santal sense of ethnic self-determination.

The call for change was made at the point when, for the

-first time since 1920, there was need for a division of the land

180

 

 

 

 

 

 

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181

claimed by Sobhan Tudu. Sobhan's family had remained unified, in
economy if not in residence, without intermission from 1920 until
1968. Some unusual circumstances helped to preserve this unity
through the years. In the first place, Sobhan's two sons did not
divide the family because the younger son entered military service
and remained there until after the death of his older brother. The
younger son, John, left his young bride with an infant daughter,
and went to join the British Indian army. He served in campaigns
in Southern Europe. Just prior to his return, his older brother,
Peter, died of small pox. Peter had married twice; his first wife
left him three sons, his second had borne two sons before Peter
died. The oldest of these sons was Timothy.

When John returned from military service, he took over the
responsibility for his brother's five sons and the widow. But the
widow and her children preferred to live in Paharjuri where her
affinal kinsmen welcomed her. John reestablished the Tudu household
in Manjhipur with the wife and daughter he had left behind, and
they had two sons within a few years; the older son being named
Nirmal. Although John and his brother's widow occupied different
residences in different villages the family was not economically
divided; the produce of the land was appropriately divided because
Peter's heirs (being male) were in line to inherit his share of the
land. Peter's widow returned periodically from Paharjuri to take
her share of the harvest back to her residence. She was in an 9251§_

relationship with her brother-in-law and the family lands, and this

182

relationship was protected by the traditions entrusted to the
village headman.

Under the counsel of John, as head of the household, Timothy,
the eldest son of Peter was sent off to a mission school in Paurapur
where he completed nine grades of school. After his schooling and
with John's permission, Timothy enlisted in the Indian army (now
Independent of the British). In due course, John's own son, Nirmal,
was sent to a different mission school in the town of his mother's
brother. John remained the household head of the Tudu family in
Manjhipur for some nine years, during which he made some very close
friendships along with some deep-rooted unfriendly relationships.
John cultivated interests in the non-Santal "world" although he was
a faithful village council member. His family life was full of turmoil
because of his excessive drinking.

Suddenly in 1953, John was burned to death in a straw fire
that broke out while he was on watch at the village threshing floor.
John's widow concluded that there had been foul play and fled to her
brother's house the day following her husband's funeral. Hence, the
family of Sobhan Tudu came to consist of two widows living with their
children in their respective natal villages rather than in Manjhipur.
The traditional candidate for household head was in the army. The
headman of Manjhipur informed the 5.0.0. in Paurapur of the situation
and the appropriate authorities were contacted to arrange for Timothy's
discharge from the service. Timothy was soon discharged but chose

not to reside in Manjhipur. He made his residence with his step-mother,

183

brothers and step-brothers in Paharjuri, the natal village of Sobhan
Tudu, his grandfather.

Timothy continued to manage the family property for some
years from his residence in Paharjuri. Like his uncle John, he
recognized all heirs of the family as under his charge, and he
shared the produce of the land with the widow of his uncle John
and her children, while he continued to support his own step-mother
and his brothers. The elders of Manjhipur were unhappy that the
household head of the Tudu estate kept his residence in another
village; the house which Sobhan had built was permitted to decay and
fall into ruin, as the mud houses do when not maintained regularly.
Under Timothy, the family's unified economy continued even though
John's widow refused to return to claim the share of produce alotted
to her in behalf of her sons. John's eldest son, Nirmal always
accompanied his mother's brother who came to Manjhipur during harvest
to claim his sister's share from Timothy.

In 1968 Nirmal returned to Manjhipur and reestablished the
homestead of his father and grandfather. He was accompanied by his
older sister and younger brother; his mother had died in the house
of her brother. Nirmal had completed only seven grades of school
but was alert and consciously responsible for his sister and brother.
The fact that he made the decision to return to Manjhipur indicates
how profoundly the Santals desire to hold cultivable land and remain
a part of their traditional villages. In 1968 the opportunities for

employment outside the he; disom were far more favorable than in

 

1920 when Sobhan returned from World War I. Furthermore, Nirmal's

 

 

 

184

training and the connections of both his mother's brother and his
older sister's husband with the Indian railway could well have
assisted him in gaining full employment in the modern world outside
the village.

There was yet another reason why Nirmal might not have chosen
to return to Manjhipur. His mother had hurriedly left the village
because she firmly believed that her husband had been murdered.

She had not trusted the headman to seek the full information re-
garding her husband's death and had often related these misgivings

to Nirmal. Nirmal's childhood memories of Manjhipur were not without
bitter elements. This young man returned to claim his father's
inheritance and soon petitioned his older cousin, Timothy, for
partition of the land and rebuilt the crumbling residence as an
established household head in the village.

To divide the land was considered appropriate by the head-
man and the council who welcomed the resident landholder. To
appeal to non-Santal authorities to effect a just partition was
unnecessary. But, for the literate and intelligent young Nirmal,
the traditional method of partitioning the land seemed unacceptable.

The traditional custom of partitioning resorts to a I'game"
of chance. A small map of the land as divided into plots is drawn
on the ground. Then, in the presence of the headman and two or three
other respected elders and household heads, the elder heir takes in
his hand a number of small pebbles. The number is exactly half as
many as the number of plots to be divided. Each pebble is thrown to
fall in a plot so that half of the plots in the estate are indicated

185

by the pebbles thrown. The younger party gets the remaining plots.
This process would have given Timothy a chance at half of the 28
acres in question.

To challenge this procedure Nirmal proceeded in an appro—
priately Santal manner. He requested the headman to call together
the entire village council. He proposed an open meeting, with
Timothy and his four brothers present and suggested a more rational
procedure be adopted than the well known "game of chance". Both
Nirmal and Timothy had copies of the official village maps; both
could read and understand them well. Nirmal suggested that it would
avoid the fragmentation of their land, and other ills, if they simply
drew a line from East to West dividing the property into two, equal
but consolidated wholes. He then claimed that a large irrigation
pond near the center of the acreage should be included in his share,
since his own father, John, had initiated its digging.

The matter was put to the entire council for free and open
discussion, and the household heads contributed their usual personal
opinions. Regardless of the objection of a few who preferred the
traditional method of land division, the council finally conceded
that the young challenger was proposing a just settlement under
Santal custom but they did not agree that Nirmal should have control
of the irrigation pond since John had been the head of an undivided
household when the pond was dug. The pond was to be used cooper-
atively by both Nirmal and Timothy.

When the headman announced the consensus of the council

concerning the land partition and use of the pond he also reiterated

186

the position of the ancestors regarding residence for all landholders.
He declared that it was now time for Timothy to establish residence
in Manjhipur if he intended to cultivate land in the village and
participate as a household head in the council. Finally, the two
young men were required to provide equal amounts of rice beer for
the villagers after their long--and dry--discussion of the matter.

The council established its authority again through the
declaration of the headman as Timothy, though he could not move
his entire gharonj into the village, built a small residence where
he resided periodically when taking care of his property in the
village.

Thus the minor challenge of young Nirmal was contained by
the village authority, though it meant changing an ancient custom.
Perhaps more important, the occasion of the land partition had
provided the opportunity for the headman and the council to exert
pressure on Timothy to become more of a participant in the life of
Manjhipur. The outcome of land partition worked toward fulfilling
Santal traditions.

Crisis and Survival: The Viability of
the Headman's Role
The role of the village headman includes two distinguishable

facets: the role of the traditional manjhi whose task is to guard

 

the traditions of the ancestors as he maintains his dignity or

manjhi haram; and the role of pradhan or mustagir, the functionary

 

of the government in raising taxes and maintaining the peace. The

187

encapsulation of Santal society has made it possible for a single
individual to perform both roles.

Forces of change have been attracted to the headman by the
fact that the office of pradhan or mustagir is invested with powers
giving real economic advantages. It is possible for a pradhan, who
is inclined to do so, to gain control of land rights where inheritance
has failed or heirs have questionable rights; where owners of land
are economically embarrassed, in debt, or compelled to migrate else-
where for work. When an individual who is not committed to his
duties as guardian of Santal rights takes control of the office of
pradhan, the Santal headman's role is fundamentally changed. This
amounts to a threat to the integrity of the position of headmanship.
Such threats have been made both in the homogeneously Santal village
of Manjhipur and in the heterogeneous village of Dangrajolha.

Challenge_jn Manjhipur: The Marginal
Man as Contender

The threat to the position of headman in Manjhipur came from
a Santal who may be regarded as one of the more marginal individuals
in the village. Manot Tudu is one of the most wealthy men in
Manjhipur; he is the holder of the largest acreage of cultivable
land. As a symbol of his marginal status in Santal society, he was
elected to a seat in the Panchayat of the local area. This involved
the neglect of the hereditary principle, basic to Santal society,
governing access to all offices. It involved entering the competitive

electioneering of democratic India, an activity not appreciated by

188

the Santals whose democracy is based on consensus among household
heads rather than on advantages gained in the adversary process.
Acceptance of a seat in the Panchayat also meant tacit agreement to
the demise of any form of inter-village assembly along the tradi-
tional patterns of the Pargana assembly.

Manot Tudu had already tested his strength against that of
the hereditary headman by taking the headman of Manjhipur to court
in a law suit over a small plot of land in the village. In this
suit Manot Tudu had won the decision of the Sub-Divisional magis-
trate. This had encouraged him to contest the office of the headman
itself. He thought he had a basis for his case in the fact that
the headman had not been explicitly appointed to the position of
pradhan when he fell heir to it; the headman had actually been given,
in a formal writ, responsibilities to conduct the office during the
last months of the life of his aging father who had become unable
to carry out the duties of the office. When the old man died,
through oversight in the office of the Sub-Divisional headquarters,
the heir had not received a writ of appointment as incumbent of the
office in his own right. Manot Tudu planned to make much of this
oversight. He also attempted to influence to his cause a number of
the household heads of Manjhipur and persuade them to witness before
the Sub-Divisional Officer to the effect that the incumbent was
incompetent in the execution of his assumed office.

Manot Tudu therefore presented a petition against the head-

man to the Sub-Divisional Officer (5.0.0.) in mid-1969, claiming

189

that the headman was acting under an assumed but an illegal appoint-
ment and that the people were unhappy with his performance. Tudu
accompanied this petition with his own application for the position,
claiming the support of the village people for the appointment.

Late in the year the 5.0.0. held a local hearing at the
nearby Anchal center in Hartjuri. He called the household heads of
Manjhipur to the hearing and personally and publicly polled the
villagers to determine who should be the village headman. Despite
a concentrated effort by Tudu, his younger brother and his brother-
inrlaw, to sway the village household heads, and though the incumbent
had served the office only three years, when the tally was made by
the 5.0.0., it was found that only three household heads opposed the
appointment of the hereditary headman, and these three were the
kinsmen of the challenger.

The appointment of the traditional headman in the face of
this serious challenge, the confirmation by the 5.0.0. of the Santal
principles of hereditary headmanshipand the resulting re-affirmation
of the principle of encapsulation, meant the strengthening of
traditional forces in Manjhipur. To some outsiders this may have
seemed regretable, since Manot Tudu was not only the richest man in
the village but also one of the most "progressive". He had achieved
liason with the rural improvement programs of the Development Block
centered in the Anchal, and had begun to make use of some of the'
technical advice and resources available through the Block offices.
Manot Tudu's opponent controlled less agricultural land and much

less financial power than Tudu, largely because he clung to traditional

190

procedures. He had not taken advantage of his headmanship for
personal enrichment. As headman, he had helped arrange for a new
village well to be finished with brick and cement curbing and he
was in constant contact with the Village Level Worker of the Develop-
ment block, but he did not consistently pursue progressive tech-
nological change.

Had the "less progressive" headman been displaced by the
"more progressive", however, every evidence points to the prediction
that Manot Tudu would have used the office and all of his "progressive
ties" for the enrichment of his own gharonj, leaving the rest of his
fellow villagers to their traditional wet-rice cultivation. His
entire record shows that Tudu lacked the leadership which identifies
with the group and moves the group towards acceptable goals; he was
marginal in his relationship to his fellow villagers and his goals

appeared familistic or private, disfavoring atoysagai.

Retaining the Chowkidar

The narration of the re-affirmation of traditional headman-
ship in Manjhipur should not be left without adding a report of an
enactment of the headman's role which followed soon after the headman
was confirmed in his office. It demonstrates the power which a
Santal village headman may hold if his village council supports
him, a power which makes it possible for him even to ignore decisions
of the 5.0.0. The incident demonstrates that in the encapsulating

process the independence of the Santal system can be maintained by

191

the capacity of Santal authorities to make their own decisions
effective as much as by the interest of the encapsulating power
of_government.

This incident concerned the authority of the village over
the office of the chowkidar, or village guard. The chowkidar is
an appointee of government, performing duties specified in writing
by the governing authority; but the duties are closely parallel to
the traditional duties assignedto the gggg_, or traditional village
messanger. (This parallelism is much the same as that of the
duality of 992191.3"d pradhan roles.) According to governmental
code, the office of chowkidar, like the office of ggget, is very
often an inherited office, and the government usually honors the

wishes of the village council which confirms the godet in his office.

 

The chowkidar, however, has some duties outside the village in
which he is the hereditary 22932: Since the establishment of the
Panchayat, the chowkidar has been placed under the authorities of
the Anchal thaga_who police the area known as the panchayat raj.

The chowkidar is compensated for his work as village and
Panchayat guard by the grant of a productive parcel of land in the
village of Manjhipur free of taxes. It is therefore a post deserving
a serious and faithful performance.

The office of chowkidar in Manjhipur and its panchayat raj,
came to be contested by two men, the incumbent being the younger
brother of the contesting candidate's father. The incumbent, Singa,
was forty-six years old, a widower and the father of one married son,

a man who had served the people faithfully for about twelve years

192

since the death of his older brother. (See kinship chart on page
193.) Singa had also supported his nephew, his elder brother's
son, for the twelve years, cultivating the land of the gharonj in
addition to the three acres of tax-free "chowkidar's land". The
nephew, Danu, had grown up without an interest in land cultivation;
he had learned to ride a bicycle, and had formed friendships with
persons not connected with Manjhipur.

When the nephew, Danu, reached the age of twenty-four, though
unmarried, requested a segmentation of the gharonj and the partition-
ing of the land, which he, as the son of the elder brother, had a
half right. The segmentation was permitted by Singa and the partition
of land was supervised by the village headman.

Having gained possession of his faimly's land, Danu proceeded
to seek the office which had been his father's. As mentioned in
previous passages, the inheritance of a Santal village office is not
automatic; the confirmation of the village council is necessary,
and there have been precedents for passing over the direct heir in
favor of a better qualified individual not in the direct line of
inheritance. Therefore the village council, by tradition, was
within its rights to reject the candidacy of Danu, the nephew, and
retain the uncle, Singa, an appointment which could very well be
inherited later by Singa's son, the parallel cousin of Danu.

With the encouragement of his sister's husband, Danu re-
quested that his right to the office of chowkidar be brought before
the village council for consideration. The kulhi durup' deliberated

Danu!s appeal at great length, but ultimately decided against Danu's

193

 

 

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194

petition. Danu paid for the handj_which was consumed after the
formal session of the household heads, but he refused to join in
the consensus-establishing session of conversation following the
meeting; he refused to accept the decision of the council.

* Danu proceeded to cultivate the interest of his friends
outside the village and to make himself known in the Sub-Divisional
headquarters. In December 1969, not long after the village head-
man's victory over Manot Tudu, Danu filed a petition in the court
of the 5.0.0., claiming his right to the appointment of chowkidar
because he was the direct and only male heir of his father. In his
attempt to override the decision of the village council, Danu
claimed that his uncle, Singa, had never been formally appointed
to the office in accordance to the requirements of statutory law,
but that he had served the office only because the heir of his
deceased elder brother was of minor age. Danu claimed that his
uncle Singa had fraudulently retained the office beyond the necessary
time when the true heir could have been performing the duties of the
office in his own right.

In mid-1970 the 5.0.0. held an inquiry at the Anchal head-

quarters. Many of the Manjhipur village elders were not present
for the meeting, which may have been by design. Part of the S.D.O.'s
decision reads as follows:

Having held inquiry on ______ 1970 at Hartjuri parade camp,

all the villagers have supported the case of Danu and the

general opinion was in his favor. I have tested the

candidates. Singa, the acting choukidar has become old, aged

about fifty years and not capable of discharging the duties
of choukidar. Danu is about 28 years and healthy and active

195

habits . . . under the circumstances set forth above, I recom-
mend the case of Danu in place of his deceased father on the
basis of his hereditary claim. He is to report to the 5.0.0.
for favor of orders.

On receipt of the decision, Danu went to the Sub-Divisional
headquarters to take possession of the brief letter appointing him
chowkidar. He retains possession of the letter but actually he
has not been able either to perform the duties of the office or to
take possession of the tax-free land which goes with the office.
His uncle, Singa, continues to officiate and enjoy the privileges
granted by the village council as though the S.D.O.'s action had
not taken place. The headman is unwilling to award the status of
chowkidar to a 28-year old bachelor who rides around the country
on a bicycle and makes alliances with people who have nothing to do
with Manjhipur. The people of the village, who associate Singa w?th
their village office of 29225! are unwilling to let Danu take the
office of chowkidar because for many years the tax-free acreage

cultivated by the chowkidar have supported their godet. Singa, the
godet of Manjhipur has been active in the affairs of the village and

 

supportive of the dignities of Santal life. In addition, he has on
occasion served as Kudam naeke (assistant village priest) at sacred
festivals. Singa displays all of the necessary qualities for his
office, but it appears that Danu has neither commitment to the
office nor ability to perform its duties. Because the headman of
Manjhipur has control of access to the tax-free lands of the
chowkidar, and Danu can not enter them without the permission of
the headman, the headman is able to make the S.D.O.'s appointment

ineffective.

196

The young man was able to rally supporters to the hearing
at the Anchal headquarters and gain there the S.D.O.'s sanction.
But his unconventional behavior, his unmarried status, his lack of
commitment to the culture of the Santals of his village, all com-
bine to make it impossible for him to enter upon the office of
chowkidar or the tax-free lands which accompany the appointment.
He still holds his share in the land of his father's gharonj, but
he is denied the office and the land of the chowkidar by a headman
who knows his powers and can effectively achieve the goals he and
his council agree upon.

The villagers are keenly aware that Danu continues to
cultivate influential friends wherever he can, and may one day
attempt another confrontation with the headman and the assemblage

of village household heads.

The Headmanship Crisis in Dangrajolha

In the Village of Dangrajolha, the headman's position has
been under long-continued threat. For a period in the recent past
it appeared that the Santals would lose control of the office.
However, the hereditary line has survived and most recent events
suggest that the new incumbent may be able to revive his authority
and use it with increased effectiveness to maintain the integrity
of Santal society in the village. The long story of the diffi-
culties of the headmanship in Dangrajolha deserves careful atten-
tion.

The history of Dangrajolha has been different from that of

Manjhipur in that it has been an ethnically heterogeneous village

197

for many years. It is not known when, or under what circumstances,
the Hindu Shas and Muslim Momins gained residential rights in the
village, but it was before the turn of the century. It is clear
that these two non-Santal groups have steadily increased their
population and economic strength, exerting a continuous assimila-
tive pressure on Santal life in the village. Today the Santals
are an ethnic minority in the village. It is only by reason of
the protective encapsulation of Santal society that the Santals in
Dangraholha have escaped engulfment in structures similar to those
of the caste villages in encircling Indian society. Because the
Indian government continues the policies established after the
Santal rebellion, Dangrajolha is still classified as a Santal
village and the headman of the village remains a Santal.

The first serious set-back to traditional authority in
Dangrajolha came at the beginning of the present century when the
hereditary headman was converted to Christianity. At that time, if
the village council had been completely independent of governmental
supervision, the convert would have been deprived of his office and
its emoluments. But the government followed a policy of protecting
religious freedom and refused to sanction the dismissal of an officer
of the government for religious reasons. The village council was
required to retain the convert as pradhan. Consequently, Dangrajolha
continued under the headmanship of a convert to a religion which, in
the opinion of the Dangrajolha Santals today, undermined the headman's

commitment to some important aspects of the office. He refused

198

to be involved in the sacred rituals of Santal culture requiring

the participation of the hereditary manjhj_in a leading role; church
authorities insisted that these rituals should be categorized as
"idolatrous" and therefore forbidden to the convert. In 1912 an
especially disturbing crisis was precipitated by an extremely
zealous church official visiting Dangrajolha: doubtlessly thinking
that he should emulate some of the famous iconoclasts of European

history, the official marched to the manjhi than--the sacred dwelling

 

place of the ancestral spirits and traditionally the burial place
of the founder of the village-~dramatically attacked the sacred
mound of earth and removed the earth to prove that the bones of the
ancestors were neither buried in the spot nor protected by the
invisible ancestral spirits. The conversion of the headman and the

loss of the sacred manjhi than led to the curtailment of many

 

traditional rituals. These traditional rituals supporting the Santals
in the maintenance of traditional standards and norms.

In the third generation of Christian headmen, the recently
retired headman added to his religious defection a tendency to
deviate in another way. He has undertaken financial and land
speculations; he has attempted to perform the role of a commercial
entrepreneur in the fashion of the more wealthy non-Santals of his
village. His efforts led, finally, to his involvement concurrently
in eleven court cases in which he was either the accused or the
plaintiff. Most of these cases involved financial dealings but a
few involved land transactions. Most of the cases, but not all,

were purely personal involvements, not directly related to his

199

office. His general inability to gain the successes he pursued may
be explained as the result of his lack of preparation for the entre-
preneurial role; his background afforded little or no training in
commercial manipulation. He had a modicum of modern education
provided by a mission school, and he was highly motivated to make
himself more economically comparable to the more wealthy Shas and
Momins of his village. But neither the education nor the motivation
could override the negative effect of his cultural experience: his
inheritance prepared him for a non-competitive role in a society

of collective concerns and consensual decisions, and this preparation
was clearly dissonant with the qualities needed for entrepreneurial
success. His failures gave the Santals reasons for shame among
their non-Santal neighbors.

Santal morale has also suffered in Dangrajolha from economic
losses which have been continuous and distressing. The economic
losses may be explained as due to Santal incompetence, but a more
adequate explanation would point to the exploitive aggression of
non-Santal money-lenders. Today most of the land in the village is
still registered in the name of Santal owners, and these owners
continue to be responsible for the required land taxes; the rights
and duties granted by the British Indian administration after the
Santal rebellion continue to be granted to the Schedule Tribe by the
constitution of independent India. But the protective encapsulation
does not extend to the crops grown on the land. The crops may be
assigned to creditors--the moneylenders--for years without limit

for the payment of debts and interest accumulating endlessly. In

200

Dangrajolha today only a handful of Santals enjoy the harvests which
their land produces; the rest labor on their lands in debt peonage.

In spite of the assimilative pressure of powerful non-Santal
groups living in their village, and in spite of the religious and
behavioral defection of their hereditary headman, and in spite of
their economic depression, Dangrajolha Santals continue steadfast
in their ethnic loyalty. They remain proud of their identity with
ho: hopon; they endeavor in every way possible to protect their atg_
s2ggi_sense of solidarity as they confront the non-Santal segments
of the village. Ethnic endogamy is unquestionably maintained; in-
spite of rare transgressions, the norms of endogamy are never
questioned. Linguistic patterns are habitual and general. Pari§_
exogamy is enforced. Rituals--though attenuated--are supported as
frequently and faithfully as possible without the participation of
the headman. And the Santal village council (though controlling
only the Santal community in the village) conducts its affairs by
Santal norms. It may be said that Santal culture survives in
Dangrajolha.

The survival of Santal culture may be explained in part by
the presence in Dangrajolha of a person who performs the role of a
surrogate headman. This is Harma Hembrom. When the life patterns
of this man and the Santal community are observed in context, it is
difficult to avoid the conclusion that in a Santal village where
the headman does not assume the traditional role, some individual
will become invested with the characteristics required to fulfill

"headmanship". Santal culture provides a role for the manjhi haram,

 

201

a model of dignity and wisdom, a bud gkjl_ho£. It appears inevitable
that some individual will perform the role, first because of personal
commitment and eventually because of social recognition. The scope
of this study does not provide enough evidence to conclude that
wherever a village lacks a good Santal headman, some lesser person
in the village will act out the role; the case of Harma Hembrom
does suggest the operation of some cultural compulsion to role
fulfillment, especially where the role is critically necessary for
the survival of Santal society. However this may be, my observations
in Dangrajolha have led me to the conclusion that Harma Hembrom has
played a significant part in preserving morale in a village which
has lost much of its Santal identity. This personality must be
described.

Harma Hembrom is about 85 years old. He was a young man
when the village was torn with anxiety and forboding by the destruc-

tion of the manjhi than; it was during those days, which he remembers

 

vividly and accurately (his account is verified by records in the
headquarters of the mission) that he decided to remain true to

Santal traditions and the he; hopon regardless of pressure from

some of his peers. He was a young householder in 1918 during the
fierce arguments between the Santals and non-Santals that accompanied
the land revenue settlement. The old man claims that the two events

of history--the destruction of the manjhi than and the landgrabbing

 

efforts of non-Santals--were primary causes in his determination to

preserve Santal traditions and Santal land.

202

Today the old man lives in a homestead built according to
the best traditions of Santal construction. At the entrance of his
thick-walled mud house are long-seasoned handcarved wooden doors of
solid and enduring Sal (Indian oak). On the long sides of the
verandahs, the pillars are built of mud, round and solid. The roofs
on the three residences are of native tile. The homestead buildings,
hand plastered in white clay, form a closed rectangle around a large,
clean mud-plastered courtyard.

The old man carries himself with sobriety and dignity. The
members of his household regard him with obvious respect, tinged
with affection. His joint family consists of himself, his second
wife, the widow of his deceased son, a married grandson and two
unmarried grand-daughters. His second wife is considerably younger
than he, the mother of his son having died some years ago. No
member of this household, nor any member of the b§§_of Harma Hembrom
is a Christian.

Harma is a land owner who has avoided debt. He enjoys the
products of his fertile land without obligation to any moneylender.
He has earned a reputation for his ability to avoid financial
entanglement with non-Santal entrepreneurs. When he employs others
in time of planting and harvest, he is known as a just employer but
one who demands a full day's labor. He employs both Santals and
non-Santals of low caste for services he is unable to perform.

Although he cannot sign his name in any of the three languages
of the village--Santali, Bengali, Hindi--he is articulate in all

three. It is apparent that most of the villagers, regardless of

203

ethnic identity, acknowledge and respect Harma for his honesty and
wisdom. He is a stalwart guardian of hapramko 35f dustur_and yet
this does not involve the rigid adherence to trivial rules and
regulations often found in the traditions of the literary cultures;
when men come to him for advice, he draws upon an enormous body of
memories and demonstrative illustrations so freely that the course
of action suggested in his words seems aimed to produce equitable
and just solutions to human problems, rather than mere faithful
adherence to old customs.

Old Harma is an active participant in the consultations of
the Santal community council in Dangrajolha. He performs a leader-
ship role in the council because he is an authority on Santal
traditions; he is the storehouse of historical information, and
his experience in dealing with interpersonal and interethnic rela-
tionships has been extensive. His manner is never one of the
commanding authority, but his fellow-villagers follow his suggestions
as though under compelling authority. He has never participated in
cases outside the village of Dangrajolha, although he has been the
mediator between the ethnic groups of his village on numerous
occasions. Differences which cannot be resolved in the village

either through the Santal kulhi durup' or the occasional interethnic

 

council do not concern Harma. He has avoided all involvement in
grandiose schemes for getting rich or powerful, all types of court
cases and quarrels of the marketplace.

This bud akil horhas a reputation for being always available

 

to those who need his guidance. His fellow-Santals of Dangrajolha,

204

both non-Christian and Christian, consult him often. The Christian
headman of Dangrajolha, a man different from Harma in many ways,
comes to him for advice in times of extreme difficulty. But headmen
from other Santal villages, including the headman of Manjhipur,

have come to him with intractable problems. Even non-Santals have
sought out this man known for his insights and integrity.

Harma Hembrom exemplifies the Santal ideal of the village
headman through his commitment to Santal traditions and his compe-
tence in dealing with the affairs of village life. He has given
his fellow villagers a core of stability and a focus of identity,
which has undoubtedly been a fundamental factor in the survival of
Santal cultural integrity in the village of Dangrajolha.

Despite the efforts of Harma and others in the Santal com-
munity, the headmanship of Dangrajolha reached a critical point in
1970, during the period of my observation and study. Ganga, then
headman of the village, in a fit of drunken despondency resigned
his office, and for some months it appeared that a non-Santal might
be elected to the headmanship. The events of this period and the
consequences deserve more detailed description.

Ganga's despondency was due to many factors. First, his
personal efforts to become a rich man were leading to disaster,
with eleven cases pending in the courts involving him as plaintiff
or accused. Second, Santal elders in the village were openly
complaining against him, deploring his lack of wisdom in affairs
of the Santal council as well as in his personal behavior. Third,

non-Santal leaders were manipulating him to his utter confusion;

205

their aggressive interest in gaining control of village lands was
continuous. Finally, he saw that he was not able to withstand the
pressure exerted by the newly established Panchayat organization
to take control, more and more, over matters of village government
and administration. Only a very alert and competent headman could
make sure that decisions outside of his defined authority were not
left to the Panchayat to make.

Ganga was unable to cope with the situation, and in his
despair he began drinking heavily. He was not in a continual state
of inebriation, nor could he be considered an alcoholic, but he

seldom refused handi or any other form of alcoholic liquor, whether

 

offered by friends or foes. One evening he became inebriated in the
company of his political opponents in the Hindu section of the
village. Information is incomplete concerning the details of the
conversations, arguments, and disputes of that evening, but it is
verified that Ganga signed a statement of resignation at some point
during the evening. He left the statement with his political
opponents.

The following day Ganga publically acknowledged that he had
purposefully and knowingly signed the letter of resignation. He
would make no explanation. The letter was taken by a village
messenger to the 5.0.0. in Paurapur and properly filed in the official
manner required.

For the Santals the resignation was without precedent. The
appointed headman, the living heir of the founders of the village,

the traditional pillar of the Santal village had resigned. The

206

economic and political pressures that had forced the resignation
were viewed as enormous, practically overwhelming, certainly ominous.

The non-Santals of Dangrajolha regarded the event as the
end of Santal encapsulation; no longer would the government protect
the Santal headmanship. They girded themselves for the period of
free political competition which would precede the appointment of
a new headman. The procedure legally required the appointment of a
new headman to include the following steps: (1) All potential candi-
dates were to file petitions of nomination in the office of the
5.0.0. within a specified time; (2) The S.D.O. would investigate
local circumstances and set a date on which he would meet with all
household heads in the village (Santals and non-Santals) as recorded
by the census; and (3) The S.D.O. would convene his court in the
presence of all household heads of the village for a public review
of potential candidates; at this meeting he would determine what
support each candidate had and make his official appointment of a
qualified person. Candidates for the headmanship began immediately
to seek, by the various means available to them, the support of
householders in the village. .

The competition was manifestly to be conducted by pragmatic
means. There was no basic consensus in the village regarding the
norms and standards of the headman's role. The role provided by
Santal tradition was to be discarded but there was no substitute in
the experience of the ethnically heterogeneous village. There was
no basis for moral guidance in the governmental regulations, for

these were purely procedural: the "wish of the people" was the

207

only criterion suggested by law for the selection of a village head-
man, but there was no village-wide consensus to be found in the
"wishes of the people".

' The ethnic divisions of the village could be expected to
provide some basis for selection, and both the Muslims and the
Santals felt a definite obligation to support a candidate repre-
senting their groups. The Santals could be expected to support

their mayam boeha, their blood brother, in any situation where

 

there was open contest against other ethnic groups; by their tradi-
tion the individual deserving their support would be a man from the
patriline of their headman's b§§, The Muslim community could be
expected to support a Muslim candidate, but the Muslim criteria for
leadership were much less specific than those of the Santals; their
candidate was expected to be a respected, wise individual who was
conservatively religious. It mattered not what his ancestry might
be. But both the Santal and Muslim communities were minority groups
in the village; had they combined, they could not equal the 70% of
the village population who were Hindus.

The Hindu community of Dangrajolha did not constitute a
politically unified ethnic population. Their caste divisions and
class differences and the strong familism that gave each family a
differentiating ambition generated a number of factions among the
Hindus. Their historic tradition would have prompted them to place
as their candidate a member of their "highest" caste, a Brahmin;
but the few families of Brahmins in the village were living in a

dependent client relationship, serving the wealthier Shas as purely

208

religious specialists; they were "highest“ in no political or
economic sense. The dominant Shas included competitive individuals
and families, with factions led by individuals whose appeal to their
supporters was purely pragmatic and based on expediency as under-
stood in the most immediate and fiscal terms. The general tendency,
(therefore, in the Hindu community was to give preference to a
candidate for headmanship who possessed the largest economic re-
sources and could promise the most immediate gains to the families
of the community, even if these gains were no more than an occasional
feast.

A few weeks after the resignation of the Santal village
headman, four candidates filed petitions for nominations at the Sub-
Divisional headquarters.

The Santals had a candidate--Hotan--the unmarried younger
brother of the headman (Ganga) who had just resigned. As a younger
male in the joint household of the headman, he had not represented
his household in the village council, but he was very familiar with
the Santal community. He was only 22 years old and a residing
member of the headman's gharonj. The only other possible candidate
from that family was the l3-year old son of the resigning headman--
the direct heir--but a minor who was legally incompetent to take
the office. Hotan had finished nine grades of school away from the
village but he had been the cultivator of the family for about five
years. He worked hard but had suffered economically because of the
failures of his older brother. He was not in a position to exert

any economic pressure on potential backers, but he had two advantages

209

which made him attractive to his fellow Santals. First, he had the
approval of the "surrogate headman", the traditionalist Harma,

whose advice he had taken on many occasions and whose company he

had often joined in various village discussions. Second, he had
completed enough formal education to afford him a respected position
among the majority of Santals in the community who were non-literate.
Hotan was adept in both Hindi and Bengali in their written and spoken
fbrms. No santal offered to compete with him for the support of

the Santal community.

The Muslims also produced a single candidate, a well-known
weaver who had the support of a fairly united community.

Two candidates appeared from the Hindu community, both members
of the dominant oil-pressing Sha caste. One was a shopkeeper and
moneylender, a highly successful mahajan, a grain dealer who held
mortgages on the rice crops of many Santals and Hindu families, and
who had freely used his economic power to gain political advantages
both on the village and the Panchayat raj level. The other candidate
was a middle aged Sha of less wealth, but a man who had employed
many laboring Muslims and Santals in agricultural operations and one
who had joined with the recently-resigned Santal headman in dealing
with many village disputes; he was known as an active and wise
participant in village affairs.

Of these four candidates, the Santal Hotan had little hope
of gaining support from any large part of the village population

in open competition at the public hearing to be scheduled by the

210

5.0.0. His only hope of election lay in the old constitutional
right given to the Santals for the continuance of encapsulation
and protection of Santal independence. The other three candidates
had real hope of winning a majority of villagers to their support.
The Muslim candidate had not only the support of the Muslims, but f
he could expect the support of many non-Christian Santals whom he
had befriended against the exploitative maneuvers of the Hindu
money-lenders. He also had some support among disadvantaged
Hindus, and he made attempts to win their allegiance. Both of

the Hindu candidates knew that in an open contest they had real
chances for victory, and they invested considerable resources in
achieving that victory.

The village of Dangrajolha became a furiously active politi-
cal arena during the weeks preceding the appointment of the new
headman. There were few precedents and fewer regulations; what
precedents were available were borrowings from the non-Santal world,
the pan-Indian political scene; available regulations merely served
to "keep the peace". Social conditions in Dangrajolha produced a
number of unusual components; generally speaking pragmatic concerns
dominated the political competition.

In such a setting, the emergence of what Nicholas has
described as "factions" became apparent. The established ethnic
and caste groupings were strained, and the appeal of the candidates
(except for the Santal, Hotan) included just such pragmatic appeals
as are the basis of "factions". Nicholas describes factions thus:

"Factions are conflict groups, political groups, not corporate

211

groups, and members are recruited by a leader and on diverse princi-
ples" (Nicholas 1965:27-29). The mahajan may be categorized as a
"pure factional leader"; all of his appeals were appeals to immediate
individual and family interests rather than to traditional or estab-
lished social-entity concerns. The other Sha and the Muslim can-
didate could hope to win the election only as units of other groups
defeated to their leadership, and, while not reckless of old ties

(as the mahajan_was inclined to be), they did from time to time
appeal to those who were attracted by power or economic resources,
and other pragmatic interests.

The real competition became manifest when the Muslim can-
didate gave a large feast for his supporters. Invitations were
issued to all who would come. The candidate made known his political
platform on the occasion of the feast. He declared that his ability
as a sympathetic mediator in resolving differences between vil-
lagers was well-known to all, and his reputation as a friend of the
people, without ulterior motives, was well-founded. He promised an
administration of equity and good faith. There were many families
in Dangrajolha who had had so little experience with "equity" and
"good faith" that the Muslim's appeal could not be at all universal;
these families, many of them poor, had much greater trust in the
power of a patron than any other form of security.

At the feast of the Muslim candidate, all Muslim families
were in attendance. They were joined by many Santals and a number
of disadvantaged Hindu families. All of those joined in eating

together. The Hindu families of respectable status who came to

212

enjoy the feast were given uncooked rice, pulses, vegetables and
chickens, to be prepared and eaten in the ritually purified pre-
cincts of their own homes; this was a necessary arrangement because
of the strictures against inter-dining in Hindu tradition.

The mahajan, the wealthy and aggressive Hindu money-lender,
prepared a feast with a triple menu to accommodate all residents of
the village. The food and eating arrangements catered to the
restrictions demanded by the ethnic communities. As an additional
attraction, ample supplies of handi_and distilled liquors were
made available to those who would accept them. The evening of
feasting gave opportunity for speech-making, but the occasion pro-
vided only limited inter-ethnic interaction; the speeches could
generally be geared only to the segments of the pe0p1e who sat to-
gether during or after the feasting. It is reported that on the
day following the mahajan's feast and program of benevolent speeches,
the debts of many families were cancelled in whole or in part.

The second Sha candidate also gave a feast. He had a large
goat slaughtered for the occasion by a Muslim butcher, but food for
the Shas and Brahmins was cooked separately by a servant of the
Brahmin priest to ensure ritually pure food. The number of persons
in attendance at this feast was not large. The candidate did not
get a wide hearing on this occasion. Many Santal families attended,
reported to enjoy the food, not necessarily to hear the claims of
the candidate.

The candidate Hotan could not afford to give a feast. He

could only spend time in the courtyards of the people who would

213

receive him. He did invite groups of non-Santals to the homestead
of his joint family for evenings of conversation and refreshment
(handi) which was a bit awkward for him; considering the fact that
his courtyard was the courtyard of the resigning headman. It is
reported by Santals and non-Santals alike that in these sessions
Hotan demonstrated his knowledge of the problems facing the village.
He was a good listener and mediator of divergent views, respectful
of Santal traditions, but additionally respectful of the positions
taken by other ethnic groups. How Hotan would deal with the ag-
gressive entrepreneurs of the Hindu and Muslim communities, the
central problem of Santal life in the village, remained the un-
answered question, one without immediate solution.

After the filing of petitions at the Sub-Divisional head-
quarters and the opening excitement of feasts and pronouncements,
the people of the village became engulfed in furious personal
campaigning. The village was subjected to disputes and confrontations
between the contending parties almost daily; the candidates them-
selves and their lieutenants found all manner of "issues" at stake
in the campaign, and individuals were called upon to commit them-
selves to one or the other candidate with promises and warnings to
be fulfilled in the future. Each candidate, except Hotan, was sure
of victory on the day of the S.D.O.'s hearing.

In the Santal community the excitement of the opening
feasts was thoroughly enjoyed. To be treated as guests of honor
at the hands of their exploiters was obviously a novel and rather

pleasant experience. But when they came together in their own

214

households, they reminded each other that the "big shows" by the
"big men" were no indication of things to come. The "big men" were
lgtg_hgr, corpulent, proud men, not to be trusted with the power of
the headmanship. Most individuals managed to avoid committing them-
selves to the support of any non-Santal candidate, though continuous
pressure was put upon them to do so from the beginning to the end

of the campaign.

To the leaders of the Santal community in Dangrajolha, the
longer the spectacle continued, the more ominous it became. The
last shreds of Santal power in the village were being auctioned off
in the mad scramble. The last ties to their inheritance in the
Santal disom, the legal ownership and control of the land, were
about to be severed. The election of the non-Santal headman would
not only destroy the system of inherited responsibility which was
the core of Santal polity, but would place in the hands of their
exploiters the village records, the tokens of their original and
continuing ownership of the land. They feared that this could only
mean dispossession by one false means or other. Furthermore, the
appointment of a non-Santal to the headmanship would sever the line
of communication which had continued for a century between the
Santal village and the 5.0.0.; no longer would the Santal headman
have the right to enter the presence of the protective governmental
representative with his payment of revenue and his periodical
reports on the conditions of the village.

Those were dark and discouraged moments of recrimination

in the Santal community. The elders, without exception, placed the

 

215

blame for the crisis upon the resigning headman, Ganga. The non-
Christian Santals did not hesitate to blame the bankruptcy of his
headmanship on his Christian loyalties and his failure to commit
himself to the traditions of his ancestors. All Santals called
him a fool for trying to make himself a match for the non-Santals
whose resources exceeded his own. The Santal community did not
respect Ganga's personal commercial speculations. They loathed
his drunkenness.

The Santals of Dangrajolha anticipated with dread the day
of the S.D.O.'s public hearing and the change to a non-Santal
authority over the village. It would mean the final dissolution
of the encapsulating protection they had achieved through the
sacrifices of the Rebellion and the century thereafter.

Meanwhile the 5.0.0. had been examining the situation in all
of its legal and pragmatic aspects. He had also weighed the various
political implications of any decision he might make.

Pragmatically, it was obvious that the resigned headman,
Ganga, could not be returned to office; his incompetence had been
demonstrated. If the traditional Santal pattern of primogeniture
were to be followed two possibilities presented themselves. The
younger brother of the resigned headman, the candidate Hotan, could
be placed in office. But there was a son and a direct heir of Ganga,
the thirteen-year old boy, Sukal, who had both traditional and jural
claims to the office. Santal tradition would call for a decision by
the village council (the council of Santal heads of households; not

any interethnic body). Santal traditions offered precedents for

216

appointing either Hotan or Sukal. The boy, Sukal, could be passed
over because of the reputation of his father and the appointment
given to the parallel line of Hotan who was a son of the deceased
headman; or the headmanship might be retained for the boy, Sukal,
with the administrative responsibilities given temporarily to a
responsible adult until such time as the heir was competent to take
the duties into his own hands. The 5.0.0. was well informed of
these possibilities within the patterns of Santal tradition.

The S.D.O. learned that the village of Dangrajolha was still,
gg_jurg_a Santal village, though it had become gg.f§gtg_so hetero-
geneous a village that the Santal community had become numerically
a minority and politically weak in presence of the Sha caste of the
Hindu community.

In addition to pragmatic and legal aspects of the case, the
5.0.0. had political considerations to weigh. As a governmental
administrator in a fairly typical modern democracy, he could not
afford to ignore the political interests from the larger prospective.
At the State level, non-Santal interests could exert pressures on a
local administrator in such a case as the appointment of a headman
in a de_jurg_$antal village.

An elected minister of the State government has considerable
influence in determining promotion policy in the administrative
bureaucracy, and under political pressure from the electorate the
future career of a Sub-Divisional Officer could be impeded by the
personal intervention of such an elected official. In spite of the

many safeguards which attempt to ensure the independence of civil

217

servants in the performance of their duties, the actual political
situation in Bihar at the time this case was under consideration
was one which did not always favor the special regulations for the
agj_bg§j§; these were largely commercial interests which would gain
by the removal of Santals from appointed offices. The 5.0.0. was
obviously aware of the total political arena.

Fortunately, there have remained interests supporting the
"scheduled tribes" in their efforts to retain their cultural and
political identity. The political leaders of the ggj_ba§j§_in
Bihar have, from time to time, formed more or less effective
political organizations which have maintained the rights of the
minorities. This has most effectively come to pass through judicious
coalitions. Several individuals from among the ggj_ba§j§_who have
gained office in the governmental bureaucracy at the State and
National levels have learned a great deal about the manipulation
of the bureaucratic regulations. These individuals have been able,
on numerous occasions, to prevent the misuse of governmental
measures which could weaken the position of all ggj_ba§j§,

Finally, there are still to be found a large number of
active individuals who continue to follow the leadership of the
well-remembered nationalist leaders, Gandhi and Nehru, whose defense
of the §g1_ba§j§ has become a part of India's national tradition.

The incorporation of this concern for the Santals and other "scheduled
tribes" in the provisions of the constitution remains the foundations
for all legal defense of the rights of these people. The S.D.O.

prepared himself for the public hearing and the appointment of a

 

218

new headman for Dangrajolha conscious of these political consider-
ations.
0n the day of public decision-~the day designated for the

S.D.O.'s hearing at the Anchal headquarters--an unusually large
number of villagers from Dangrajolha appeared. The proceedings were
opened with an announcement by a court officer stating the purpose
of the hearing. Then the 5.0.0. read a brief statement which he had
drawn up with obvious care. He first described the provisions of
the legal code pertaining to the appointment of village headmen in
the Santal Parganas district. The substance of the provisions were
as follows:

In the event that a village recorded as a Santal village is

left without a headman who is able to perform the duties of

his office, the appropriate governmental official shall sppoint,

if living, the legal heir of the patriline, who shall be deter-

mined as next in line for the office.
The S.D.O. then went on to show that, having received the resignation
of the headman, Ganga, he recognized that there was now no person
authorized to perform the duties of the village headman in Dangrajolha,
and that it was necessary to make a suitable appointment. According
to the provisions of the legal code, he had determined that there
was, in fact, a legal heir to the office, who, according to the law,
should be appointed as official pradhan or mustagir of Dangrajolha.

He then went on to declare that Sukal, the son of Ganga,

the former headman,was appointed to the office. However, because
the appointee, Sukal, son of Ganga, was of minor age he should be

represented and advised by his father's brother, Hotan, until Sukal

becomes 21 years of age in May of 1978. At that time Sukal should

219

appear before the 8.0.0. at the Sub-Divisional headquarters to receive
his full appointment without restriction to perform on his own the
regular duties designated by the State as the one legal and true
mustagir of Dangrajolha.

The public appointment of Sukal, an unknown boy, to the
office of village headman came as an obvious suprise to everyone.

To the Santals it was an almost unbelievable deliverance. The
traditions of the Santals had been upheld by the jural rules of the
government exercised by the 5.0.0. The Santal community was given
new hope for survival as a political force. The decision saved them
from almost complete cultural extinction in Dangrajolha, for the
transfer of records of village lands into the hands of non-Santals,
particularly of the sort of non-Santal leader represented by the
mahajan, would have meant their rapid assimilation into the non-
Santal village life as an untouchable and subordinate caste group
(more likely an outcaste group).

The S.D.O.'s decision, made without giving any opportunity
to the contending parties in the political campaign to express
themselves or test their strength, came as a shocking disappointment
to the factions which had assumed that the role of the Santal head-
man had been extinguished in Dangrajolha. The gains they had hoped
to seize with their rise to power were snatched from them. The
investments they had made in the political competition were rendered
valueless. The mahajan from the Sha community was particularly

enraged; he had assumed that the appointment was safely in his hands.

220

The S.D.O. allowed no petitions for reconsideration. He
emphasized that his decision was based upon irreversible legal
grounds; Dangrajolha was indisputably to be legally defined as a
Santal village, and the appointment he had made was not contestable.

Hotan, the newly appointed temporary village pradhan,
assumed his responsibilities at once, gathering new advisers about
him in addition to the continuing association with the surrogate
headman, Harma. The prospects for the Santals of Dangrajolha were

thus brightening when this study came to its completion.

A Traditional Headman in Political Alliance

The assimilative pressures which encircle such villages as
Manjhipur have generated a challenge to the political structures of
Santal society; the Panchayat system is now in direct competition,
on the political level, with Santal traditions. The Panchayat
council and its chairman, the sarpanch, offer a complete substitute
for the Santal headman and the village council of household heads.
The Panchayat has, in many respects, replaced the upper structures
of the Santal traditional system; it now seems to await the weakening
of the village political structure in order to replace it.

However, as seen in the preceding case study, the Santal
village headman is still protected by encapsulating regulations of
the government. His village council continues to maintain its
traditional functions. The duties of the village pradhan, with
its responsibilities for keeping the peace in the village as well

as collecting the revenues, have not been modified. At the time

 

221

of this study there is no expectation of change in the government's
policy reSpecting them.

Nevertheless, the panchayat system provides a complete
substitute for the traditional system should it be required. It
has all mediatorial powers of the village authorities, and several
advantages not granted to the village system. For instance, it has
powers to collect taxes for its own programs and projects; while the
village headman and other elders have tax-free land providing their
own emoluments, the Panchayat can collect from landowners small
amounts for the enlargement of its own services to the village com-
munities. The Panchayat is also given a competitive advantage by
the fact that it forms the channel through which governmental services
and rural improvement programs can be delivered to the village.

As long as the village headman and his council retain the
loyalty of their householders, it may be expected that within the
sphere of the powers granted to them, they will continue to maintain
their authority and leadership. Should the traditional system
falter, as it seems to have done in Dangrajolha, the Panchayat system
has the potential to take its place. At any time a single villager
or a consortium of families may be expected to turn to the Panchayat
council, if they find that the traditional village system does not
meet their needs.

In 1958 the Panchayat was organized in the Manjhipur-
Dangrajolha area. (However, these two villages are not included
in the same Panchayat raj.) Since each Panchayat raj is expected

to have jurisdiction over about 1000 or more persons, and since

222

Manjhipur has a population of less than 300, the adjacent villages
of Lakhanpur, Rampur and Sonapur were joined with Manjhipur to form
a single jurisdiction, or Panchayat raj. Of the four villages,
three were homogeneously Santal villages; Sonapur included a section
of Bengali Muslims, but this represented only a minority group in
the one village. Consequently, the Panchayat raj centered on
Manjhipur was predominantly Santal and could be expected to remain
in the control of the Santals.

But the Panchayat raj was not organized in the manner of
the traditional pargana; it did not represent an upward delegation
of the leading elders of the village system. It was organized on
principles quite alien to the traditional system. The council of
the jurisdiction, the Panchayat itself, has a specified and limited
membership, whereas the meetings of the pargana were open to all
householders in the area, and, under necessity, every householder
could have a voice in its councils (though this was seldom the
practice). The members of the Panchayat are elected in an open,
competitive election, whereas the members of the pargana assembly
held their positions by hereditary right. Moreover, in electing
candidates to the Panchayat the electorate includes all individuals
over 21 years of age, whether male or female, head of household or
subordinates in the household. The elective system also tends to
attract innovative, aggressive, ambitious individuals very different
in purpose and capacity from the individuals who rose to positions

of influence in the traditional political system.

223

It may be expected that the leaders of the traditional
system, like good conservatives, would ignore the innovative system
and treat it as though it did not exist. Instead, their essentially
pragmatic approach to political problems (at least in Manjhipur) has
led them to make a cautious alliance with the system and attempt to
mold it and use it for traditional ends.

During a recent panchayat election, the headman of Manjhipur
played a role which is best described as the formation of an alliance.
It consisted of his effective support for a candidate whose commitment
to traditional Santal society was clear but who also possessed the
pragmatic capabilities to serve the purposes of his Santal brethren
with dignity and success. It was as though the headman wanted to
put in office a Panchayat member (a Pancha) who would be likely to

preserve the hapramko akf dustur in the modern system, giving him a

 

pseudo-adoptive right to authority among the villagers where he did
not have a hereditary right, and requiring him to be both a man of
the modern world and the traditional world.

Sanathan, the candidate for the Panchayat, was born in the
village of Lakhanpur. His father was a successful cultivator who
sent his son to the mission school in Paurapur. Sanathan completed
the full eleven classes with a creditable academic record and an out-
standing reputation as a socker player. He was then selected to
continue his education in a medical training center where he learned
the necessary skills to become a laboratory technician. He returned
to the mission hospital in Hartjuri for employment. The hospital

was only eight miles from Sanathan's natal village where he

224

reestablished ties with his village folk. Instead of spending his
free days with townsfolk at the Anchal headquarters he rode his
bicycle home to Lakhanpur to enjoy the presence of his gharonj and
the people of his own village.

Sanathan's cash salary made him a welcome visitor, for he
was generous to his entire family and his friends. Somehow he
seemed to avoid ostentation. His education was superior to that of
his village folk, but this did not seem to separate him from them.
He was depended upon as one who could read or write as the occasion
demanded. He gained the confidence of the elders and the admiration
of the youth.

When the elections to the Panchayat were announced, Sanathan
decided to be a candidate. He was encouraged by his village friends,
and his gharonj. One of his peers in Lakhanpur was the eldest son
of the headman of that village, an age-mate with whom he had played
socker on the village team whenever they had opportunity to challenge
a neighboring team. Sanathan decided that the political activity
would not conflict with his duties as a technician at the hospital.
His employers did not object to the decision because he remained
faithful to his wage earning occupation.

The election campaign lasted for about two months. The
campaign methods employed by Sanathan were consonant with his Santal
norms. He first elicited the support of age-mates and kinsmen of
his natal village. He then visited the headman of each of the four
villages in the Panchayat raj in the company of a few men from

Lakhanpur, including the headman's son. With each headman he spent

225

some hours quietly explaining the nature of the new system. He
pointed out that the new organization would bring the four villages
together in a certain type of cooperating unity which would assist
in gaining the assistance of the Block Development projects. He
responded to their questions, some repeatedly asked and never fully
answered, and tried to give the traditional stalwarts a sense of
assurance where they felt threatened. He proved to be a successful
interpreter of the new system to those who gave early signs of
complete distrust.

The headman of Manjhipur decided to give open support to
young Sanathan. He invited the candidate to his village for a
traditional evening of festivities. Sanathan arrived with a small
group of supporters; their arrival was without fanfare. He came
walking beside his bicycle with a pot of handi_tied on the back
fender. He presented the small pot of handi_to his host in the
presence of several village householders with the appropriate

dobok' johar.

 

There was singing and dancing as the villagers sat around
drinking handi_and discussing the new political reality. As the
festivities drew to a close, the headman of Manjhipur publicly
announced that he had invited Sanathan, with his father and brothers
from Lakhanpur, not only as personal guests but also for hearing

from an educated member of the ho£_h0pon what the Panchayat organi-

 

zation would and would not do for the village. He then invited

Sanathan to explain to the guests why he was seeking a position on

226

the Panchayat council although he had a well-paid position at the
mission hospital in the Anchal headquarters town. '

Notably, in introducing the young candidate, the headman
of Manjhipur referred to him as manotan juan boeha (respected
younger brother). The terminology announced publicly the kinship-
like tie which existed between the traditional headman and the
potential young leader and explicitly enunciated the fact that the
headman had confidence in this younger man who had not misused his
modern education. The term "brother" has often been lightly used
in the western world, but in the Santal village, when used by the
headman in the manner employed, it refers to an alliance of more
_than ordinary confidence.

Sanathan responded to the headman's endorsement with a
brief speech. It was not the type of oration that has come to be
expected from intent political candidates. The young man sat humbly
among the people in the courtyard of the headman and spoke in casual
tones. After paying his respects to the headman, he explained his
candidature. The following notes are taken from a reconstruction
of the speech reported by a number of people who were present on the
occasion:

The new system is good. It will give us agj_bg§i§ a voice
beyond our village. The new plan will give us a voice in
government more equal to the Hindus. It will give us repre-
sentation beyond our village as we are represented within our
own villages.

I want to be elected as a member of the Panchayat because I
want to help other young men. My village brothers are all

good men, but many of them are too poor. We can improve our
conditions. We can learn of new government plans which will

227

help us and give us a better chance. Our sons can have a better
chance in life than our father have had.

I know the thoughts of my village brothers and those of the big
men (men in government) outside the village. I know the ideas
of the Muslims who are also a minority in this region. I can
speak Hindi, the langua e of the big men (in government) in
Bhabalpur and in Patna (the State capital). I can also speak
the white man's language. I am a son of my village and I
respect the ways of our fathers, but I can stand among others
who are outside of our village, wearing the same shoes they
wear, wearing the same white shirt they wear while I speak as

a hor hopon in their language.

 

The support of the headman of Manjhipur assured the candidate
of all but a handful of Manjhipur voters, old and young, household
heads and lesser adults. With this support Sanathan won a seat in
the Panchayat.

Not all candidates to the Panchayat were in alliance with
the headman of Manjhipur, or necessarily in alliance with other
headmen. For instance, the richest man in Manjhipur, whose efforts
to unseat the village headman have been described above, was actually
in open conflict with the headman. This man, Manot Tudu, was able
to win enough votes in the other three villages of the Panchayat raj
to be elected to a seat on the Panchayat council. A Muslim from
Sonapur was also elected. These cases indicate that the headman of
Manjhipur, in this election, did not influence the entire electorate,
or ensure the defeat of his opponents.

However, it does seem apparent that in the future the support
of the traditional village leadership will continue to influence
both the election of candidates and the work of the Panchayat. By
adjustment to the Panchayat system and by exercising their influence

upon the majority of voters, the village headmen in the Manjhipur

228

area have every hope of holding much of their traditional authority,
if not actually enhancing it. It is possible that through judicious
alliances between the several headmen and by agreement among them
upon the candidates to be supported, the strength of the headmanship
will continue secure. These expectations depend upon the ability

of the Santal society to continue its traditional enculturation of
the young and the preparation of political candidates for the
Panchayat system with the characteristics of the young man, Sanathan.

Already the alliance between the village headman of Manjhipur
and the young Pancha, Sanathan, has proved productive. It provided
a basis which has led to the election of Sanathan as Sarpanch after
the most recent elections. The young Sarpanch represents the
Panchayat at conferences at the Anchal level, where representatives
from other Panchayats gather, including many from non-Santal consti-
tuencies.

Inspite of the positive results of this alliance, as judged
from the traditional villagers point of view, it must be recognized
that the system of alliances has none of the stability of the tradi-
tional Santal system with its basis on the hereditary principle.

If traditional norms lose their effectiveness the appeal of political
candidates to familistic and individualistic interests can destroy
the collective norms of Santal political life. Certainly, any
modification by the encapsulating governmental powers, in the

rights and powers of the village headman, will swing the balance

of power in the Manjhipur area in favor of the Panchayat system.

229

This example of alliance between the Manjhipur headman and
Sanathan demonstrates two manifest characteristics of Santal society
today. First, the people will follow an alert and informed headman
who exerts his leadership. Second, tradition oriented Santal society
does adapt to change while retaining the time-tested hapramko akf

dustur.

CHAPTER VII

THE ROLE OF THE SANTAL
VILLAGE HEADMAN

In this chapter an orderly and systematic description of
the actual role of the headman is attempted. It is necessary to
clarify and make use of a number of terms which are "role-
descriptive"; while they do not indicate specific actions or
activities, they refer to distinguishable classes of behavior
involved in the headman's complex role. It also seems appropriate
to include some reference to certain aspects of the headman's role
and his social milieu which require further research.

No attempt is made to form separate sections entitled
"Theory" or "Suggestions for further research". Instead, explanations
of the role-descriptive terms and their previous use in the literature
of Anthropology and other social sciences accompany the use of the
terms in the systematic development of the description. Some of
these terms are taken from general English usage which seems suitable
here. These terms may not have been put to use by others in the
manner they are employed here. The suggestions for further research
are also made at the points in the description where their need is

most clearly apparent. The suggestions for further research may be

230

231

summarized as including the economic life of the Santals and the
place of the headman in economic affairs, the religious practices

of the Santals in which the headman plays a most prominent role, and
the wholly neglected subject of socialization which is fundamental
to the understanding of the relationship between personality and
social organization in the Santal society.

The description of the actual role of the Santal village
headman is organized under four major headings: The Ascription of
The Role, The Headman and the Government, The Headman and Other
Administrative Elders, and The Headman and The People. No section
has been written to describe or analyze relations between the head-
man and the non-Santal people, partly because one aspect of this
subject has been dealt with in the last section and partly because
the relations between the Santals and non-Santals are dominated by
economic factors, details of which have been omitted in this study.

The Ascription of The Role focuses on the problems arising
from failures of a family to produce heirs, failures of candidates
to meet the criteria of a suitable headman, and the potential place
of modern education in preparing the heir for his inherited position.

The Headman and The Government focuses on the actual relations
observed between the hereditary leader of the atg_(Santal village)
and the non-Santal state. This material is organized around five
themes: (1) Communication between the headman and government, which
is different from the type of communication Bailey describes in the
role of the "broker" or "fixer";\(2) The power derived from the office

of pradhan, which Swartz refers to as "unqualified 'power'"; (3) The

232

threat of coercive power which may be said to have a "prompting
effect"; (4) Independence obtained from governmental authority
through the use of powers granted by the government; and (5)
Alliance formation necessitated by the development of rural democ-
racy in the form of the Panchayat system.

The Headman and Other Administrative Elders deals with
the relationships between the traditional village elders which are
both coordinate and superordinate-subordinate. The latter appear
in the forms of delegation of power by the headman and the direct
assistance given to the headman.

The Headman and The People focuses on the relations between
the headman and the people of his village community (as distinct
from the non-Santal people who present special problems in villages
such as Dangrajolha). This material is organized around five major
themes: (1) Protecting collective rights, (2) Ensuring the per-
formance of collective duties, (3) Protecting the rights of indi-
viduals, (4) Containing deviance, and (5) Ensuring commitment to.

Santal community and culture. Collective rights are seen as those

 

which ensure public benefits and those which preserve the authority
of the headman, an essential factor in the maintenance of the
collectivity. The authority of the headman resides mainly in his
patriarchal dignity, his personal dignity and his government office,
terms which run closely parallel with Weber's "traditional”,
"charismatic" and "rational" authority. The ensuring of the per-

formance of collective duties involves the headman in some ritual

 

duties, not a developed part of this study, and in inter-village

233

relationships which call for sodidarity in support of the village
headman. Protecting the rights of individuals, the headman actively
supports individual choices at various junctures of village life.
The reference to containing_deviance demonstrates that Santal
society does not use exile, incarceration or grievous punishment

in dealing with those who disturb the unity of the village; even
ostracism seems to be of a mild type of the Santal community.
Instead of these sanctions, intimate communication and propinquity
function to restore conformity in most efforts to deal with deviance.
Ensuring the performance of individual expectations is dealt with

as a problem in personal commitment to Santal community and Santal
culture. This personal commitment is diminished by distractions
exerted by culture contacts and enhanced by some form of isolation;
it is found where social propinquity is preserved and certain forms
of exemplary reinforcement are exerted.

In this chapter the attempt is made not to deal with the
description of the role of the headman wholly in abstractions.
Wherever a role-descriptive term is used there is an attempt to
give an example from the enactments of the previous chapter.
Wherever possible, the generalizations of the description are based
on empirical observations. It is obvious that this study has not
been based upon a wide or random sample of Santal behavior; it has
been confined to two villages. Therefore all of the generalizations
in this chapter must be held as tentative; this study should be
widely replicated. However, the study of the limited subject has

been accompanied by extended, less intensive, observation in a much

234

larger area in which I have lived and worked for seven years, and

the generalizations have been presented with this background.

The Ascription of The Role

The headman acquires his role by inheritance; where possible
the principle of patrilineal primogeniture governs the inheritance.
It will be seen from the first of the enactments of the previous
chapter that patrilineal primogeniture is not always possible; in
a society of high mortality rates, especially among children, the
loss of direct heirs is an exigency for which provision is made.
Santal society gives emphasis to the bfis, or known patrilineal kins-
men, as a source of candidates for the inheritance of property and
office. The b§§ of the village headman becomes as extended as
necessary to provide a suitable heir. Consciousness of kinship in
the male line may be expanded to include persons as distantly
related as third cousins where the male line fails in the more
proximate branches of the family.

Because the headman inherits his "headmanship" he has an
ascribed status as opposed to an achieved status (Linton 1936:115).
It is common usage in the Social Sciences to refer to statu§_and
rglg_as inextricably linked together, but seldom do we find a
reference of a role as ascribed. However, in Linton's original
discussion of statu§_and rglg_he says:

Ascribed statuses are those which are assigned to individuals
without reference to their innate differences or abilities.

They can be redicted and trained for from the moment of
birth (Ibid. .

235

The expression, "trained for", implies that role performance is
expected of an individual in a particular status. Therefore,
ascription to a status must surely mean ascription to the role
required of an individual holding the status. Since human behavior
is not biologically inherited, ascription of an individual to a
particular role must involve the training of the person for the
role, whether consciously or unconsciously. The feasibility of the
principle of inheritance of office may be said to depend on the
effectiveness of the institutions of training in a given society.

There has not been an attempt in this study to trace in
detail the patterned activities involved in the training of those
who inherit the headmanship. It has been observed that Santal
society trains its children for adult participation in their society
through direct, continuous and active association with the parental
generation. Like most other pre-industrial societies, the Santals
have no specialized or formal institutions of training. That the
families of the Santal headman are not large can be seen from the
genealogical tables Appendix E, page 303. Therefore, the number
of children requiring training at any one time is small, so that
the investment of time and effort in training does not put any
unsupportable strain on any one generation.

To deal with the problem which presents itself when the
heir to headmanship does not meet the criteria set for the position
by Santal tradition, Santal society has developed what may be
labeled an "ammendatory device". This device is seen in the powers

of the village council to grant or withhold confirmation of

236

individuals who inherit office. Where the eldest son of a headman

is patently unable to perform the duties of the office, the village
council may elect a younger son, an uncle, a cousin, or some other

male of the headman's pg; in his stead.

Modern society has provided the villagers another instru-
mentality by which Santal society may be sure that the hereditary
principle will provide a suitable headman. Modern educational
institutions are now available to assist in training the future
headman, beginning at a fairly young age. The headman of Manjhipur
attended a small government primary school in a neighboring village
for five years. The resigning headman of Dangrajolha attended a
mission operated school on the edge of his father's courtyard for
three years followed by five years of formal education in a mission
boarding school. Each of these men were kept close to village life
at the insistence of their fathers. Ganga, of Dangrajolha was
brought home from the boarding school by his father inspite of his
desire to continue his formal education. The surrogate headman,
Harma, made it a matter of pride that he eschewed the sign of formal
education; the ability to read and write. However, the newly
appointed "acting headman" of Dangrajolha has completed high school
matriculation which may improve his qualifications for office (at
least for those duties required of the pradhan of heterogeneous
Dangrajolha where he must now perform as headman). The somewhat
unusual Sarpanch, Sanathan, described in the final narrative of
the previous chapter (pp 220-229), demonstrates that formal education

in a modern school can be effectively harmonized with loyalty to the

237

he: hopon and their culture, and is therefore potentially suitable

 

for the training of village headmen. The effect of formal edu-
cation upon the commitment and competence of the Santal headman
offers an area for research of great importance, an area of study

which is only introduced through this study.

The Headman and The Government

In proceeding to a description of the activities of the
headman it is appropriate to begin with a discussion of his re-
lationships with the government. After all, historically it is
because of the initiative of government (in response to the Santal
rebellion) that Santal headmanship has retained its most evident
political characteristics.

The structural aspects of the headman's role in government
have already been described in Chapter IV. The headman is appointed
as the pradhan or mustagir of the village by the Sub-Divisional
Officer (5.0.0.), with due regard to matters of inheritance and
confirmation by the village council. As pradhan, the headman is
required to collect land taxes in his village, a responsibility
that gives him control of access to the land; without his sanction
no individual may cultivate a parcel of land. The headman must also
perform certain duties in maintaining peace in his jurisdiction. He
is expected at all times to serve as the local representative of the
administration of the Sub-Divisional authority. As such, he has

access directly to the 5.0.0. if need arises.

238

In examining the processes involved in the headman's re-
lations with the government, it is important to note the communi-
cation which takes place between the headman and the 5.0.0. Quite
apart from the regular formal reports expected from the headman,
informal communication takes place throughout the year, whether
through subordinate officers, or the administration at its head-
quarters, or in direct face-to-face interaction. For instance, in
the case of the 1920 deviation of Sobhan Tudu (pp 170-178), the
decision of the pargana assembly that Sobhan should move to Manijhipur
and become a regular resident householder was communicated to the
5.0.0. by the headman of Manjhipur. The failure of this process of
communication to take place in the case of the controversy over the

chowkidar's position is not fully explained (pp 190-197), but it may

 

well have been due to the fact that Danu had friends in the adminis-
trative bureaucracy who were able to effectively intercept communi-
cation.

Bailey has described the role of the village "broker" or
"fixer" who serves as a link between the village people of the rural
area and the offices of the State and National government in the
town headquarters. It may be asked if the Santal headman performs
an identical role. In response, it must be pointed out that the
government has undertaken a moral commitment to the encapsulated
Santal society. The connection between the 5.0.0. and the village
headman is not purely a bureaucratic relationship subject to
expedient manipulation; the 5.0.0. is responsible for the welfare

and the continuity of Santal society and the village headman is

239

responsible for keeping him informed of conditions among the Santals.
On the other hand, in the case of Danu, the rejected chowkidar, it
is perfectly possible that Danu worked through "brokers" and
"fixers", or himself acted as a "fixer", to disorder the relations
between the government and the headman by tampering with the normative
communication system (Bailey 1969:41). The fact that the headman
has not been instructed by the 5.0.0. to ensure the position of
Danu as village chowkidar certainly indicates that the headman has
in no way jeopardized his position or their relationship.

Effective communication has, on occasion, led to what may

be labeled parallel action by village and governmental authorities.

 

Such parallel action took place several years ago when the 5.0.0.,
at the hearing in which he granted the war veteran his title to the
28 acres in Manjhipur (pp 170-178), concluded his findings by
informally, but authoritatively, advising the land-holder to settle
down and make his residence in the village of his land-holding;
this advise paralleled the directives of the pargana assembly and
the wishes of the village council and headman of Manjhipur.
According to additional sources not cited herein, parallel actions
of this sort take place with regularity.

The village headman's relations with government often result
in the generation of power for the headman. Swartz has made a useful
distinction of types of power in the Introduction of Local-level
Politics: I

When the performance of a role is supported by legitimacy,
the ability of the actor in the role to enforce binding

240

decisions on those supporting him is called 'consensual power',

as opposed to 'power' as an unqualified term applying to the

same ability but based on coersion (Swartz 1968:31).
The village headman conducts most of his business among his fellow
villagers using "consensual power", but because of his relationship
with government, he can at any moment (within the framework of
governmental regulations) resort to police intervention. The police
represent coersion, and therefore provide the headman the vehicle
to employ "unqualified" power. An example of this is found in the
"rape case" (pp 136-149) in the previous chapter. The headman did
not himself call the police, but he did not attempt to prevent the
aggrieved father of the young woman from doing so. The police
arrived and threatened to incarcerate the three young men of the
village who had refused to accede to the judgment of the village
council pronounced by the headman. There was an immediate payment
of fines far higher than those set by the headman. The final result
of the police intervention was the enhancement of the authority of
the headman;

The mere threat of coercive power also adds to the effective-

ness of the headman's decisions in the village. He is authorized
by government to use police powers to deal with delinquency in the
payment of land taxes. The headman has powers to call the police
in case of a disturbance of the peace in the village. When the
headman presents a decision as one that is required by governmental
regulations, its acceptance by the villagers is not only related to
the traditional authority of the office, but may be prompted by

the recognition that the regulations can be enforced by the

241

appropriate extra-village police power. This reenforcing or "prompt-
ing" effect can be seen as one factor in the acceptance of the head-
man's adjudication of the bamboo case (pp 149-155): the headman
declared in effect that the "map said" that the bamboos belonged

in the common property of the village, there was little delay in
accepting the judgment, for the “map" represented governmental
regulations in the minds of most villagers.

On the other hand, the case of the chowkidar appointment
demonstrates that the village headman can, on occasion, use the
powers granted him by government to achieve a degree of independence
from government (pp 190-197). The S.D.O. appointed Danu to the
office of chowkidar, contrary to the wishes of both the headman and
the village council. But the headman was able to neutralize the
decision of the 5.0.0. on the basis of a governmental regulation
which directs that a man cannot enter upon a parcel of land (at
least in the first instance) without the specific permission and
formal recognition of his rights by the village headman. The head-
man of Manjhipur refused to grant Danu the right to cultivate the
tax-free lands reserved as an emolument for the chowkidar, which
meant that the S.D.O.'s decision could not be brought into effect.
The alert headman can, in a number of similar ways, use the powers
granted by government to achieve a considerable degree of local
independence from the governmental authorities outside his village.

Finally, the relations between the headman and government
have in recent years developed a new complexity with the creation

of the Panchayat system of rural democracy. The Panchayat system

242

must be regarded as an aspect of government though its connection
with the more familiar office of the 5.0.0. is rather indirect; it

is organized under governmental aegis and certain powers are delegated
to it by government. Its elected leadership, however, operates
independently of the administrative officers of the subdivision,

and therefore the headman must establish a new set of relationships
when dealing with it. He must find some way of identifying his
authority with that of the Panchayat. No Santal headman can afford
to completely ignore the Panchayat system. The headman of Manjhipur
has formed a public alliance with the young paggha_who has now become
a Sarpanch (p 228). Alliance formation with elected office holders,
who remain in the local area, is a new process in the political life
of the Santal headmen. It seems possible that through such alliance
formation the village headman of the future will continue to maintain
his authority and leadership in his community. The converse appears

equally evident.

The Headman and Other Administrative Elders
In the interaction between the Santal headman and the other

traditional village elders, at least three types of relationships
are discernible. In some activities they operate coordinately, each
performing traditional duties without direction from the headman

and even without consultation among themselves, but without conflict
or competition because the traditional patterns form a consonance

of roles producing coordination. At other times, the administrative

elders perform delegated duties, taking the place of the headman and

243

carrying some of his authority in specific instances. On still
other occasions, their duties require that they attend the head-
man and give him direct assistance.

To say that the element of competition does not enter into
the relationships between the traditional elders would be naive.

It is reported, for instance, that some years ago the paranic' of
Manjhipur--the headman's first assistant responsible for land and
revenue affairs--was dismissed from office by the headman and
village council because of his personal corruption of land claims.
This "corruption” proved to be a threat to both the headman and

the village council which, if allowed to continue unchecked, would
have brought governmental charges of incompetence against the head-
man. This event may be classified as an instance of competition.
Neither the headman nor the village council have elected to appoint
a replacement for the displaced paranic'. The headman has been
free to handle the important duties of the paranic' without assist-
ance. The powers and the possibility of incompetent use of power
cannot be tolerated in the Santal village where the headman is
expected to maintain the proper use of his mandate.

It will be seen that the delegation of powers and the
necessary assistance under defined circumstances may be classified
together as forms of superordination-subordination. For present
purposes, the delegation of powers and the use of assistance are
dealt with specifically; it seems unnecessary to discuss other

forms of superordination-subordination.

244

The coordinate performance of roles by the administrative

elders is most often found where the jog manjhi and naeke carry out

 

their traditional responsibilities. The naekgis duties as village
priest are well defined by tradition, and are generally carried on
independently of the headman or the other administrative elders.

Indeed, his duties are such that he frequently requires the assist-

ance of his kudam naeke, or assistant village priest. The jog manjhi,

 

 

who is in charge of moral conduct in the village, has much authority
and often initiates activities in his sphere of responsibilities.
Even where his role intersects with that of the headman, so that
he works with the same people on the same problem, he frequently
acts with a great deal of independence.

The coordinate nature of interaction between the headman
and the other administrative elders is preserved by the circumstance
that each office is acquired by inheritance; each role is thus
"ascribed". The traditional village elders are not appointees of
the headman; they hold office under their own rights. Consequently
they do not generally constitute a "bureaucratic clique". They have
little reason to form a "faction" of the type Bailey labels a
"transactional group", based on the dependence of "hirelings" upon
a supporting "patron" (Bailey 1969:37-44).

As for the delegation of powers, it is the jog manjhi who

 

most often is given duties to perform in which he acts under the
powers of the headman. For instance, in the very serious and
delicate discussions of the "rape case" conducted in low tones in

the headman's courtyard (p 137), the consultations among the members

245

of the council were led by the jog manjhi, while the headman remained

 

a sort of neutral third party awaiting the development of a consensus.
It appears that the leadership of the council for this occasion was

delegated to the jog manjhi. Later, of course, the jog manjhi

 

 

conveyed the opinion of the council to the headman who pronounced
the decision of the council. In another case, that of the kasima

marriage (pp 155-170), it was the jog manjhi who represented the

 

headman and the interests of his village by going to the village of
the young man. There he served to make sure that the decision of
the principals in the marriage, the young man and the young woman,
was made freely and without external pressures. Later he made
inquiries in the village regarding the potentials for durability in
the proposed marriage. In these activities it would appear that

the powers of the headman were delegated to the jog manjhi, because

 

he had a certain freedom of movement or ability to enter into
situations where the greater dignity of the headman would not
permit his involvement.

The religious duties of the headman are not included in this
study, and therefore no examples of his delegation of duties to the
village priest have been presented. But it should be noted that the
headman must himself perform certain rituals and symbolic acts to
which the naeke may be delegated. However, there are rituals which
only the hereditary headman may perform, and not even the highly
prestigious patriarch of Dangrajolha; the traditionalist Harma,

as naeke of the village could take the headman's place.

246

Cases of direct assistance are frequently found in the re-
lationships between the headman and the other administrative elders.

The godet of Manjhipur, while acting as the traditional village

 

messenger, also serves as chowkidar of the local area under the
appointment of the 5.0.0. His relationship with the headman is
consequently also dual; as chowkidar he assists the pradhan, and

as 22825 he assists the manjhi: It cannot be said that in his role

as godet he receives any "delegated powers" from his superior officer;

 

he merely carries the word of the headman as he calls the members of

the kulhi durup' to meet at the request of the headman. He may be

 

said to have more powers of descretion as the chowkidar, or local
constable, but even in this role his duty is only to apprehend a
transgressor and bring him to the pradhan or take him to the police
of the Anchal.

In summary, the role of the headman involves relationships
with the traditional administrative elders which may be characterized
as coordinate or superordinate-subordinate in the delegation of
powers (especially where the subordinate has greater freedom of

movement than the headman) and in the performance of direct assistance.

The Headman and The People
In examining the relationships between the headman and the
Santal people under his jurisdiction, two phases of his role may be
distinguished. In some of his activities he is concerned with the

maintenance of the orderly traditional society. In others he

 

clearly attempts to effect the containment of deviations from

tradition.

247

This discussion of maintenance and containment does not begin
with the assumption that continuity of tradition demands the arbitrary
rejection of all change, or that the headman's role is regarded as
a wholly "reactionary" one. The point of view of the early func-
tionalist, Malinowski, who treats each culture as a "closed system",
is wholly rejected in this consideration of the Santal headman's
role (Lowie 1937:235). The focus here is upon the Santal community
and its headman, not as a closed system, despite the measures of
encapsulation taken to protect it from total assimilation, but as
a social entity which is attempting to survive in a setting subjective
to formidable influences to change. The headman of Manjhipur has
had considerable success in preserving the continuous, although not
undisturbed, interaction of Santals of his village to their mutual
satisfaction; he overtly performs on the assumption that certain
traditional patterns provide the most feasible means of assuring
the continuity of Santal community life and Santal culture. This
section is intended to show how the headman maintains the patterns
of community interaction and how he attempts to prevent deviations
resulting in disorder and chaos.

As a guardian of tradition, the headman must unceasingly
act to ensure the continuity of the Santal community. The community
may be seen to operate sometimes as a collective, a social integer.
At other times it recognized the importance of each individual in
the community.

The headman's role involves both the maintenance of the

rights and duties of the village as a collective and the maintenance

248

of the rights of each individual. Interaction patterns in the village
may be distinguished as based on these "rights" and upon "duties".
Dealing with "rights", the headman may be considered as the protector
of them. Dealing with "duties", he may be considered the one who

must ensure their performance. Therefore the discussion which follows
will be organized around five themes: (1) Protecting collective
rights, (2) Ensuring the performance of collective duties, (3)
Protecting the rights of individuals, (4) Containing deviance, and

(5) Ensuring commitment to Santal community and culture.

1. Protecting collective rights.--In protecting the collective

 

rights, or rights of the collective of his village, the Santal head-
man's role includes two types of enactments. He ensures public
benefits, making sure that sources of benefit to the whole village
shall be secured to the village and not utilized for private or

for factional usage. He also preserves his own authority and thus
the governance of the community as a whole.

The village collectivity has a material interest in the
common properties which are included in the village area. In the
discussion of the ecological aspects of the village community, these
common properties have been described. They include grazing areas,
water sources and woods (except those calimed by government). The
failure of the Santal community to develop the economic potentials
of these areas is a subject for a separate sutdy. It appears that
group interests in these areas and the ensuring of public benefits
from these areas continue to occupy much time and energy from the

headman.

249

In the enactments of the previous chapter, only one narrative
deals with the headman's role in preserving the collective rights in
the common property of the village. It is found in the case of the
bamboo clump (pp 149-155). In this case the bamboo clump could be
legally defined as private property, and the disposal of this
property might well have involved simply the division of the bamboo
growths between two families. However, the headman had been reared
in a tradition in which forests surrounding the village were free
and open to all village families, and the bamboo clump appeared to
him as a resource of similar social utility. He therefore pushed
the case rapidly to a traditional conclusion and was able actually
to increase the common properties of the village by declaring, with
the support of his council, that the bamboos were to be included in
the common properties of the village. His success contrasts with
cases reported from other parts of India where the pressure of
population growth has made it extremely difficult for village authori-
ties to preserve even the common grazing grounds against the gradual
encroachment of private agricultural operations (Lewis 1965:93-95).

To the student of the political processes, the preservation
of the headman's authority constitutes a most important aspect of
his role as the protector of collective rights. In the Santal
village the headman's authority is closely and clearly essential to
the continuity and welfare of the collectivity of his Santal people;
it is not generalizing beyond the facts to say that the headman
protects the rights of his collectivity when he acts to preserve

his own authority.

250

In the following paragraphs, examples are taken from
Dangrajolha as well as from Manjhipur to show how the headman
preserves his authority. In the case of Dangrajolha, it is noted
that three fundamental sources of authority were lost by the head-
man who had to resign. In the case of Manjhipur, it is noted that
the headman has actively taken steps to maintain his authority.

In Dangrajolha, the headman lost his position because he
failed to maintain three sources Of authority, his patriarchal
dignity, his personal dignity, and his governmental office. These
three sources of authority are roughly comparable with the three
"pure types of legitimate authority" presented by Max Weber:
"patriarchal dignity" compares closely with Weber's legitimacy based
on "traditional grounds", "personal dignity" is similar to his
legitimacy based on "charismatic grounds", and the authority coming
to the headman from his governmental office compares with Weber's
legitimacy based on "rational grounds" (Eisenstadt 1968:46-47).

As the direct heir of the founder of the village the village

headman has acquired a patriarchal dignity--his manjhi haram--which

 

not only gives him a senior kinsman relationship with every other
member of the village (either a real or fictive relationship), but
also gives each member in the village a similar relationship with
every other member. The village headman's heritage makes him the
fathgr_of every member of his village and makes every member close
kin to every other member.

The failure of the Dangrajolha headman to maintain this

manjhi haram and its resultant ties of kinship began, of course,

 

251

with the conversion of his grandfather to Christianity. The first
fissures in his authority appeared when the convert refused to lead
the essential religious rites of village life. The exact signifi-
cance of the traditional ritual cycle, and the headman's role in
them, must be left to a full examination of the religious aspects
of the headman's role. It must be noted here that the failure of
the convert to maintain his patriarchal dignity as manifested in
the headman's performance in traditional rituals, contributed largely
to the gradual loss of his authority. The failure of authority
meant, for the people of Dangrajolha, a serious division in their
collectivity; many vigorously opposed conversion to Christianity.

As a successful and independent cultivator and householder
in the village, the headman achieves a personal dignity which not
only gives him his status of primus inter pares among his fellow
villagers, but gives every member of his village a sense of identity
with him as a common man. When the headman knOws well a large body
of traditional lore and can provide pertinent and pointed precedents
for his judgments, he proves his personal competence and shows him-
self the sort of man every Santal wishes to be. This seems to have
been the key to the prestigious position of the "surrogate headman"
of Dangrajolha, Harma Hembrom. When the headman uses his tax-free
"headman's land" judiciously and manages his household with competence,
his conduct and his achievements approach the Santal expectations of
what a good Santal should be. The headman is expected to provide the
living model which gives the Santal norms their effectiveness and

continuance.

252

In the case of the headman of Dangrajolha who failed to
provide such a model, we have an example of incompetent management.
It appears that the resigned Dangrajolha headman first lost his
commitment to traditional norms when he became too much impressed
by the wealth and ostentation of the non-Santal merchants and money-
lenders with whom he had to interact daily. But for the purposes
of this section, it must be noted that he failed to be a "common
man" in the Santal understanding of what a common man should be like,
and as a result lost the following in his own community.

As the official pradhan of his village, the headman holds
a bureaucratic appointment which operates to preserve the village
collectivity. This may be explained by referring again to the
Dangrajolha village situation. The Santals of that village have
continued to maintain their ato_§gggj, their loyalty to the community
of Santals, in spite of the conversion to Christianity of the headman
and some of the other families,6 inspite of the invasion of non-
Santal ethnic groups into their village, inspite of economic diffi-
culties and the loss of some of their ritual support, partly because
they continue to hold the ownership of lands in the village. Most
of these lands are no longer under their own cultivation; many acres
have been pawned away for debts. The ownership rights are still in
the names of Santal families. By this they are assured, as long
as a Santal headman holds possession of the village records. De-
prived of this bureaucratic appointment as pradhan of the village,
the headman would have to give up the records to non-Santal custodians.

Experience provides much evidence to prove that when the village

253

records are put into the hands of men who do not protect the rights
of the Santals, various devices are used to alienate those rights.
The records can be changed "by perfectly legal means" which cannot
be challenged without expensive litigation. In a real sense, the
village records of landholdings in a Santal village constitute the
"charter of Santal rights" in that village, and this charter can too
easily be changed if it is removed from the custody of the Santal
headman.

As pradhan, the headman also has formal access to the S.D.O.
He has a recognized duty to present the needs of his people to the
government officer most responsible for maintaining the encapsulation
of Santal society. If a Santal village loses the right of the pradhan
to formally represent his people, the relationship between government
and the village becomes vague and tends to become ineffective.

When the headman of Dangrajolha resigned his post as pradhan,
he placed in great peril the governmental instrument established to
protect the Santal village from the aggressions of non-Santal
interests. He had already lost most of the authority deriving from
patriarchal and personal dignities. Only the continuing concern of
the encapsulating government has given the Santals of Dangrajolha a
basis for the recovery of their complete collectivity.

In Manjhipur, however, the headman has been able to maintain
his authority. His patriarchal authority is well manifested in the
belief but impressive ceremony performed with the newly married
young woman before she left her natal village in the company of her

husband (p 167). She had returned with her husband for their first

254

formal visit to her gharonj. At the close of that visit, she went
to the headman with her father and expressed her formal farewell
to him. She spoke words of praise concerning his dignity, and he
responded with a personal blessing and the gift of a small pot of
handi, symbolizing the desire for continuing peace between her
village “kinsmen" and herself.

In the vigorous action taken by the headman of Manjhipur
when dealing with the case of Sobhan Tudu (pp 170-178) and the land
claimed by him through bansgari, there are several issues involved.
The headman defied the governmental authority by pulling up the
stakes put into the fields by the Amin of the Subdivisional court
because it was an affront to his own responsibility, granted by
government, to permit access to land (in the first instance). The
villagers of Manjhipur assisted him in this. His act was, in effect,
a declaration that his authority, as pradhan_of the village, superceded
all other authority over land control in the village. His appeal to
the pargana assembly won the confirmation of authority granted to
the headman by the Santal traditions, the basis of all authority.
The pargana assembly did not, and could not, support him in a
struggle against the Subdivisional courts in the matter of bansgari
claims. But it could support him in a matter closely related to the
welfare and rights of his collectivity. The pargana assembly did
support him in bringing Sobhan under his headmanship. It brought
the "rich" veteran into Manjhipur as a resident and a participant
in the village unity. The headman understood what it would mean to

have a valuable part of the village acreage controlled by an absentee

255

landlord; it would weaken the collectivity. In this case the headman
is seen protecting his governmental position, his traditional dignity
and his personal dignity and the authority deriving therefrom.

In the case of the bamboo clump (pp 149-156), it appears
that the headman of Manjhipur appealed to immediate and expedient
motives in obtaining the support of his council; he knew that every
household in the village would welcome the right of access to the
bamboo. It would appear that "transactional" ties were maneuvered
in this case, rather than the moral ties which constitute a genuine
collectivity. But it should be remembered that the headman was
fully aware that the individual rights to the bamboo would have been
dissipated very shortly by the men who claimed the bamboo clump,
while the collective rights in the bamboo could be conserved to
benefit the village over a very considerable period of time. Looking
at the case from this point of view, the headman displays good
management of his people and the resources.

That the headman of Manjhipur was able to make use of
innovative situations for the preservation of his authority and
the rights of the collectivity is demonstrated in his dealings with
innovative situations which will be dealt with in the section dis-
cussing the containment of deviance.-

2. Ensuring the performance of collective duties.--The
headman is involved in making sure that collective duties are
performed. The concept of at9_§gggi, or village oneness, is cited
most frequently when the village is called upon to participate in

the ritual duties of tradition. These duties require the c00peration

256

of all households in the community. The failure of Christian
Santals to participate in these rituals is anxiously regretted by
the Santal traditionalists as a failure of the collective to perform
its duties to ancestors and spirits as much as it is seen a failure
of certain households to meet their obligations to the collective.
The duties of each village community in intervillage activi-
ties are important at this point. These duties of the collective
were clear and well-accepted in the days of the pargana assembly.
In those days, the headman had no difficulty in gaining the support
of his leading householders when he went to the meetings of the
assembly called by the parganic'. Today those traditional duties
no longer need to be performed. Instead, we find the Panchayat
system introducing new demands. The ability of the headman of
Manjhipur to elicit a new sense of duty on the part of his house-
holders in the elections for the Panchayat constitutes an important
role for the future. If the collective acquires a sense of obligation
to vote as a block in supporting a candidate for the Panchayat, the
chances of continuity for Santal society will probably be much
improved. The success of the young medical technician in effecting
an alliance with the headman as he campaigned for membership in the
Panchayat suggests that the initiative for collective action in the
new rural democracy may come from other sources than the traditional
headmanship. If, however, the next generation of headmen can be
as well equipped for the synthesizing of tradition and modernity as
Sanathan has proved to be (pp 220-229) it is possible that the

collective duties of the village in the political realm of rural

257

democracy will be enforced by the leadership and authority of the
village headman and not left to the self-appointed candidate.

3. Protecting the rights of individuals.--Both the leader-
ship and the authority of the headman are often exerted to ensure
the fulfillment of individual rights. In the enactments of the
previous chapter one case which indicates the headman's role in
ensuring individual rights is that of the kgsjma_marriage. The
rights of young adults to make their own mate selections are ensured
and the rights of individuals to speak for themselves are honored.

The headman of the young man's village calls the two
principals in the marriage to his courtyard and there, in the

presence of elders of the village and the jog manjhi from the

 

young woman's village, in a rather solemn moment, the young man's
headman asks if he is prepared to set the date for the kgsimg

(pp 155-170). This is the ritualized question calling for a public
statement of intention. The answer must be given by the young man,
and no one can speak for him. The young man's affirmative answer
is followed by a period of silence, for the young woman must be
given a similar opportunity to Speak her personal intent. She is
fully aware of the meaning of the silence: if she intends to marry
the young man, she must remain silent; if not, she must ask to be

taken to her home by the jog ménjhl who represents her natal village.

 

The young woman remains silent, and the preparations for the marriage
proceed. Mate selection is a matter of individual choice for the
adults of Santal society; the right to individual acceptance or

rejection of a mate is protected by the headman.7

258

In the second example of the headman's role in protecting
individual rights, three young men accused of rape are each given
an opportunity to make their own defense. The formalities of
their trial seem inadequate to protect all of their rights, and the
imposition of fines is done before all interested parties have a
chance to speak (p 141). As it will be seen in the discussion of
judicial processes, the effort of the "trial" was not to adjudge
the guilt of any one of the three individuals; it was to bring
peace to the village. Nevertheless, the treatment of the indi-
viduals involved their right to speak for themselves in the session

of the kulhi durup', under the protection of the headman's authority

 

in the courtyard of the manjhi haram.

 

These examples cited present only two of the many junctures
in Santal social interaction where the integrity of the individual
is asserted and the rights of the individual protected by the head-
man. The question may be raised whether or not Santal tradition,
as evident in the headman's role, maintains an equilibrium between
individual rights and collective rights. This is an appropriate
question for a study of political structures in Santal society.
However, it seems more feasible to include it in studies of economic
life and socialization processes than in this more specialized
examination of the headman's role. In such a study of economic
life it would be fruitful to ask why the Santals have been unable
to act aggressively and with individual enterprise to meet the chal-
lenge of the highly aggressive entrepreneurs of the intrusive

cultures. In such a study it would be appropriate to examine the

 

259

effect on Santal personality of the traditional emphasis upon
collective interests. The lack of skill in commercial practice
and the apparent "hedonism" of the Santal villager are best ‘
examined in the total economic configurations of Santal society,
for the lack of such skill and the "love of pleasure" (Orans 1965:
7-9) of the Santals have cost them great losses in the economic
aspects of their life. Therefore the problem of equilibrium between
individual and collective emphasis is omitted here and may be taken
up in another study when debt-peonage and the loss of usufruct rights
on their land are made the major focus of inquiry.

4. Containing deviance.--The use of the terms deviance and

containment as they appear below must be briefly explained. Deviance

 

is variously used in studies of social problems or disorder; it
always implies the existence of some body of norms demanding con-
formity. In this study, however, its meaning is restricted to
specific concerns; it refers to the challenges raised against the
authority of the headman by members of his community or by those

who are otherwise subject to that authority. The term containment
is adapted from general usage to refer to the special methods used
by Santal society to deal with challenges of the headman's authority
or other traditional requirements.

Santal communities deal with those who cause offense in a
special way. They could use devices used elsewhere, such as exile,
ostracism or incarceration, or various types of punitive measures.
(Felonies which must be handled by the police and government courts

do inflict such punishments.) Exile from the Santal village is

260

possible for severe infractions, but this usually takes place
voluntarily. Incarceration is an unhappy practice of the non-Santal
world which the Santals know by experience but do not utilize.
Something akin to ostracism is sometimes used, as in the treatment
of the Kisku father and son who disturbed the village of Manjhipur
in the "rape case" (p 145). First the offenders were ignored when

villagers neglected to purchase their handi for the festivities

 

prepared in honor of a guest from distant tea plantations. Then,

during the festivities, those who poured the handi into leaf-cups

 

refused to pour any for the Kiskus. Finally the accusation was
verbalized, "Be_pgptg, pg_pgptgfl, meaning "out of line". But this
was followed immediately by acts of contrition and forgiveness
ending all semblance of ostracism. It becomes evident that extended
ostracism is not congenial to Santal communities. As for punitiVe
measures, it is rare that an offender against the village peace or
the authority of the headman is punished in any grievous manner.
In cases where the accused have consumed or destroyed anothers
property, restitution or repayment is required, but the standard
treatment of offenders consists of requiring them to provide suffi-
cient rice-beer or other refreshment for a period of conviviality
following the deliberation of the case.

The fine required of the offender should not be considered
a punitive measure. It is, rather, a containing measure. By the
simple device of investing the fine of providing refreshments, the
offender is transformed into the generous host of the festivities

at which his judges and jurors become the appreciative guests. The

 

261

offender who has passed through the humbling experiences of an
accused on trial, becomes, without prejudice, a peer of his fellow .
villagers fully "contained" in the community of the village.

The process of containment is not confined to the festivi-

ties after the kulhi durup'. The whole process of Santal adjudi-

 

cation aims at containment. The ideal of judicial process may be
described as follows: First, the accusation itself is not formu-
lated as a transgression against some stated rule. Rather, all
offenses seem to be defined as disturbances of the peace of the
village and as challenges of the village headman's authority. It
is not an abstraction of law, but a community of persons and the
person of the headman who have been offended.

Second, the determination of guilt is generally unnecessary.
There is little secrecy in the village. There is no doubt when the
peace of the village or the authority of the headman have been
disturbed. There is little need for an offender to deny his guilt,
for the goal of adjudication is not to impose hurtful punishment
but to reestablish the peace of the village and the authority of
the headman.

Third, the discussion proceeds immediately to the consider-
ation of means for pacification in the village. Certain persons
have been disturbed and must be granted relief. Here the use of
precedent gives guidance to the council and headman. Every leader
had adequate accumulation of precedents in his memory. The
similarities and differences between a particular case and many

relevant precedents are discussed at length. The flow of discussion

262

is not triangular, between the judge, the accused and the accuser;

it is multiple, and the offender finds himself included in the process
as though his own memories and experiences must contribute to the
formulation of a solution to the problems created by the offense.

By the time a consensus has been reached in the council,
the offender, who has participated in the flow of discussion, has
usually accepted the consensual decision. With such an acceptance,
the need for punitive measures does not exist; there is need only
to symbolize the containment of the offender by making him the
gracious host during the "social hour" which follows the "trial".

Of course, this is the ideal of adjudication by the village
council and its headman. Many circumstances make for variations in
the model. In the "rape case" (p 142), the father of the Kisku
young man demanded that his son be acquitted of the "crime" of rape.
Such a demand was outside the patterns of council procedure; there
had been a disturbance in the village and certain people were
extremely upset. The accusation of rape was less important than
the need for reestablishing the respectability of the young woman
(and her gharonj). To meet the unusual demand, time was needed, and
the meeting of the council was recessed to resume at a later hour.
However, before the council could reconvene it became necessary for
the headman to acquiesce to the intrusion of coercive forces, in the
form of the Anchal police, in order to pacify the situation. Before
real containment could be achieved, the householders of the village
had to carry on an extended conversation about "those Kiskus" at a

meeting which was not intended to be a kulhi durup'. The conversation,

263

followed by the open accusation of "Be panta" was not prompted by
the headman, but was within the expectations of tradition. Through
the acts of contrition and restitution the entire matter was contained

through the same processes which mark a regular kulhi durup'.

 

The veteran Sobhan was certainly considered a deviant (pp 170-
178). He publically confessed that he had forgotten the "ways of
the ancestors" and announced his contrition before the pargana
assembly. He was reminded of his identity, his forefathers, and
his obligation to the Santal system. He wasdirected to establish
peace with the village and the headman by taking up residence in
Manjhipur. The process by which the assembly came to its decision
was intimately experienced by Sobhan, and his accession to its
decision appears to have been genuine and effective. His containment
into the life patterns of Manjhipur was, however, somewhat delayed;
he was not immediately accepted by all his peers in the village.

This was not so much due to the offense he committed as to the
fact that he had lived outside the Santal culture so long that he
became more alien than deviant. ‘

In recent years the innovative Nirmal, Sobhan's grandson,
with the improved and rational procedure for dividing the estate of
a segmenting family (p 185), was permitted to use his method even
though it neglected tradition and introduced rationality where
tradition preferred chance. A record of the discussion which led
the council to permit this innovation would provide valuable material
for the study of the circumstances which permit innovation in a

society dominated by tradition. However, the examination of that

 

. ,-

264

single discussion exceeds the scope of this study. It must be noted
that the headman used the occasion of the partition of land to bring
pressure upon the absentee land-holding cousin of Nirmal to estab-
lish a residence in Manjhipur. The tradition-oriented headman of
Manjhipur finally agreed to the innovation, but he did not fail to
use the opportunity to reiterate the need to contain land-holders
inside the village.

The rejection of the candidate, Danu, who sought his father's
previous appointment as chowkidar, refused to remain with his fellow
villagers because he rejected their decision to disallow his petition.

He did furnish the handi (the symbol of acceptance), but he slipped

 

away into the night with his friends from outside the village. He
was not contained in personal interaction through the traditional
process; the process failed to reach its goal of consensus and
community. The headman could not cause an unwilling villager to
accept a cultural tradition--a council decision, but he could see
to it that the non-traditionalist remained barred from misusing
the inheritance rule to gain village eldership for his own personal
gain. In this case the individual was not contained but the tradi-
tional functions of the elders roles were maintained.

Further studies of the containment processes by which the
Santal village, its council and its headman deal with deviants
should be made. They would make contributions to our understanding
of social control and add much to our knowledge of the means by
which a minority may maintain its continuity in a milieu of ag-

gressive acculturation. Perhaps the most effective counter to

265

deviance from the traditional, in the Santal village today, is a
commitment to the culture and the sense of community. The headman
is expected to ensure the continuance of such commitment among his
people.

5. Ensuring commitment to Santal community and culture.--
The leadership and the authority of the headman must be exerted to
ensure conformity to the societal norms and the performance of
duties necessary for maintaining community in the Santal village.
In the previous discussion of the "coercive power“ of the pradhan
there was no mention of the factor of personal commitment on the

part of the people. The headman as manjhi haram, rather than as

 

pradhan, is able to assume the role of catalytic agent among the

people in the process of realizing community--ato_sagai. Here the

 

major concern is with the headman's "consensual power", as Swartz
puts it (Swartz 1968:31). Essentially the fact of personal commit-
ment to the Santal way of life is highly dependent on the role
performance of the village headman.

Three situations described in the previous chapter on
enactments throw light on the ensurance of commitment to Santal
community and culture. From these it is possible to develop some
generalizations concerning the headman's role. First, in the
history of Dangrajolha village, the differences between the headman
who resigned and the surrogate headman, Harma, suggest that culture

contact and isolation are critical factors in commitment, and that

 

the Santal headman may manage these factors to heighten commitment.

Second, in the narration of Sobhan Tudu's land claim we may see that

266

social propinquity is regarded by the successful headman as essential
to the maintenance of commitment. Finally, in the difference between
the rejected candidate for the chowkidar position and the accepted
candidate for the Panchayat membership we see the operation of
exemplary reinforcement in the hands of the headman of Manjhipur.
These factors do not encompass the whole range of complex factors
governing the process of commitment in Santal village life; they

are not the sole instruments available to the headman in performing
his duties in ensuring that individuals perform their duties. But
they are empirically derived from the observation of the enactments
and may be regarded as the most important and effective factors in
Santal village life.

The headman of Dangrajolha failed to maintain his own com-
mitment to Santal norms and social duties, while the patriarchal
"surrogate" headman, developed a strong commitment to the Santal way
of life and had considerable influence on his fellows in maintaining
their commitment. It is not possible to explore all aspects of the
difference between these two men, but the most obvious are important.

Cultural contacts with Christianity and with the non-Santal
merchants and money-lenders resulted in distraction. The appeal of
Christianity also distracted the headman, as it had his father and
grandfather before him, from his commitment to Santal norms and
social duties. The wealth and power, ostentatiously exhibited by
the merchants and money-lenders of the non-Santal sections of
Dangrajolha, distracted the headman from the "common man" role

required of him. The appeals of Christianity and the ostentation

 

267

of the non-Santal authorities failed to distract Harma because he
was able to maintain a high degree of social and psychological
isolation.

. It was not possible for the headman to maintain the iso-
lation of Harma. The agencies of conversion to Christianity con-
centrated their efforts on the village headman as on no other
family in the village; these particular agents came from a tradi-
tion which had historically gained large success in conversion by
concentrating on the political leadership of tribes and nations.
Furthermore the duties of the office of pradhan compelled the headman
to deal regularly and personally with the merchants and moneylenders
of the non-Santal ethnic segments of the village. On the other hand,
Harma could avoid such distracting contacts. The headman of Manjhipur
had escaped such distracting contacts.

Undoubtedly the competent management of such cultural and
social contacts remains an important factor in the maintenance of
commitment in the Santal village, and the development of isolation,
even if it be a purely psychological isolation, must continually
demand the attention of the headman if he is to maintain his own
commitment to his role as well as the commitment of his village
people to their duties as members of Santal community. The enact-
ments reported in Chapter VI do not give any evidence that the con-
cepts of distraction and isolation are consciously-utilized instru-
mentalities in the role of the headman. But almost any extended
conversation with the headman of Manjhipur or with Harma, the

patriarch of Dangrajolha, will reveal a strong antipathy towards

 

268

frequent contacts with non-Santals and a vigorous preference for
limited association with others, if not conscious isolation in the
cultural affinities of their own Santal cultural milieu.

Social propinquity is regarded by the successful headman
as essential to the maintenance of commitment. The headman of
Manjhipur was vigorous in dealing with the case of Sobhan Tudu,
the World War I veteran. The goal of his efforts was not, nor
could be, the retention of a large acreage of land in his personal
control; he could not prevent the purchase of the land. But he
could bring the veteran into the social interaction of his village
and thus subject him to the consensus-making processes of his
village. The headman knew from experience that the commitment of
a Santal landholder to the norms and duties of a Santal villager
could be maintained in large measure by his experiences in the
consensus-making processes of the village. In short, the headman
knew that social propinquity contributes to conformity and com-
mitment.

The effect of social propinquity can be observed at almost

any meeting of the kulhi durup'. The men sit around in small

 

informal groups in the meeting place, each man is within easy reach
of the others. The making of formal speeches (of which there are
few) is only a minor part of the process of deliberation; much of
the talk is in low tones. Consensus is established among a small
number of men on the basis of quiet, personal and persuasive com-
munication. Then the interaction slowly changes, giving opportunity

for the consensus circle to grow until everyone agrees. On occasion,

 

269

the voices of some are raised in excitement, but pressures gradually
applied from the group, through the mood of intimacy, slowly sub-
merges the individual's excitement. Finally, whatever reservations
some individuals may hold are subsided during the period of hand:
drinking which follows the announced decision. The differences are
usually put into perspective as minor costs in the process of
satisfactory compromise.

This process does not invariably produce consensus in the
village. But it certainly serves to maintain periods of harmony in
the village, and makes the governance of the village possible.
Without social propinquity, which means the physical and attentive
presence of individuals in the council meetings, the development of
consensus would be exceedingly difficult. Therefore, the concern
to bring Sobhan into the life of the village community may be
interpreted as an aspect of the headman's role in ensuring the
commitment of his people to Santal community and the cultural milieu.

The terms exemplary reinforcement refer to the use of
rewards and deprivation in controlling behavior. The concept of
"reinforcement" has been made familiar by the work of behaviorists
in the field of psychology. The position of the extreme behaviorists
is not the position of this paper, but it is impossible to discuss
commitment without recognizing the effect of reinforcement upon the
individual. .

In both the case of Danu, the rejected chowkidar candidate,
land the case of Sanathan, the accepted candidate for election to the

Panchayat, the headman of Manjhipur used, probably quite unconsciously,

 

 

270

the rewards at his disposal to ensure commitment to the Santal way
of life. Danu's lack of interest in village life is a subject
appropriate for an extended study of the socializing processes in
Santal life, as is the remarkable commitment of Sanathan, the medical
technician, to his village home. Here we must note only one factor,
the role of the headman of Manjhipur.

The headman could withhold or grant the emoluments of the

chowkidar's tax-free acres, and he used this control to deal with

 

Danu. Withholding the emoluments did not change Danu's attitude or
his values; he was not controllable at that juncture of his life.
But the power of the headman was demonstrated in his case and it
certainly provided the people of the village, and others who became
aware of the case, an example of what could happen to the non-
committed individual who fails to perform his responsibilities and
adhere to the acceptable ways of the ancestors. Therefore it appears
appropriate to label the headman's action as exemplary reinforcement.
Similarly, the support which the headman of Manjhipur could
give to Sanathan in his election campaign was a demonstration of the
political power of the headman. It was a precedent which every such
candidate would heed in future campaigns. The point of the precedent
was that the votes which the headman could deliver would be delivered
only to the candidate who demonstrated his commitment to the Santal
way of life. The overt reward to Sanathan for his obvious com-
mitment, both before the election and thereafter, remains a clear

illustration of the dynamics of exemplary reinforcement.

271

In summary, it may be said that the "consensual power" of
the Santal village headman to maintain the commitment of his people
to their Santal community and their culture depends upon his control
of such factors as the isolation of his people (in one way or
another) from the distractions of culture contact, the maintenance
of such personal and consensus-making processes of village life,
and the management of rewards and deprivation in effecting exemplary
reinforcement of traditional norms and responsibilities.

In this final chapter I have attempted to analyze the
dynamics of life in the Santal community through an analysis of the
selected enactments of Chapter VI. The enactments, by choice, all
involve the presence, the influence and sometimes the authoritative
position of the village headman. Rather than analyze each enactment
separately, I intentionally chose to organize the discussion around
what appear to be the four major concerns of the Santals themselves
in the consideration of headmanship; the ascription of the role,
the relationship between the headman and the government, the re-
lationship between the headman and other traditional administrative
elders and the relationship between the headman and the people of
his village.

The last section of this chapter focuses on the five themes
which appropriately conclude the consideration of the Santal head-
man. Having been a participant observer among the Santals for
several years in addition to the more formal period of concentrated
observation of Manjhipur and Dangrajolha in 1970 and 1971, it has

become quite apparent to me that the tradition oriented, non-literate,

272

rank-and-file villagers expect their manjhi to protect their col-
lective rights, ensure the performance of their collective duties,
protect their individual rights, function as the one who ensures
the containment of deviance, personally emulate a commitment to
Santal community and Santal culture and ensure that same commitment

on the part of all other hor_hopon. I have demonstrated, through

 

the analysis of the enactments how the headmen of Manjhipur and
Dangrajolha have sometimes succeeded and sometimes failed to carry
out these ideals and expectations.

In the final analysis the headman of Manjhipur, like his
father and grandfather before him may appear to be the complete
fulfillment of Santal headmanship while the headman (recently
resigned) of Dangrajolha, like his father and grandfather before him
may appear to be everything the headman should not be. There is no
reliable basis upon which to conclude that these two separate patri-
lines in the two contiguous villages have produced "good guys" and
"bad guys" for the last three generations. It should have become
obvious throughout this presentation that very different circumstances
have prevailed in the two villages throughout the last three gener-
ations. It should have become obvious throughout this presentation
that very different circumstances have prevailed in the two villages
throughout the last three generations. Powerful forces toward change
from without the village coupled with the dynamics of personal
decisions on the part of specific individuals who have altered
their life styles have strained the tradition oriented way of life

idealized as "Santal". It is not my intention to label the

273

individual headmen of Manjhipur or Dangrajolha but rather to demon-
strate the essential role of the headman in the maintenance of a way
of life which has struggled to endure the multiple forces and influ-
ences challenging its continuity. The key to this continuity is

the Santal village headman who must fulfill his role as pradhan and

manjhi haram.

 

Theoretical Conclusions
The focus of this study has been on the Santal village head-
man, but the Santal village council, composed of all household
heads, has been portrayed throughout as the institutional expression ’
of the egalitarian values of this society. The headman calls the

kulhi durup' and presides over its meetings, but the "sense of the

 

council" constitutes the final decision announced by the headman.
The dynamics of decision-making in the Santal community involves
not only the participation of all household heads but the role ful-

fillment of the headman--the traditional manjhi haram and the pradhan.

 

 

No instance has been recorded here to indicate disunity between the
headman and the village council on issues involving only the Santal
community. Consensus is desired and obviously held as a paramount
value. The paradox of an "egalitarian" society having a headman is
best explained in light of the high value placed on consensus. As
I suggested at the outset of this study, this paradox can be fruit-
fully examined in the light of Bailey's arguments about Decisions in
Councils and Committees (1973).

Bailey offers a theoretical scheme appropriate to the Santal

village council process described throughout this study. His points

274

of reference in India are both the traditional and the new statutory
panchayat system. It has been made clear that these panchayat systems
are both somewhat dissimilar from the Santal village council. Never-
theless, there are points of comparison which are noteworthy. First,
the panchayats and the kulhi durpp' both "reach their decisions by
seeking unanimity, sometimes prolonging their discussions to extreme
lengths in order to find it" (Bailey l973:l). Secondly, the
decisions made in both are not only decisions, they function as
legislative acts in the sense that precedence is set, giving either
positive or negative sanction to the act or situation under consider-
ation. Thirdly, the action of both systems necessitates corporate
enforcement, i.e. everyone involved in the decision is called upon

to assist in the enforcement of the decision. This assumes that

the communities involved in decision-making are "corporate in nature
and form" (Smith 1969:194). In other words, pressures can be brought
to bear which will not allow the people to neglect the fulfillment

of council decisions. It is apparent that the Santal communities
described are more readily able to fulfill these characteristics

than their Hindu neighbors.

When the household heads of Manjhipur gather for $2101
gprppf, for whatever reason, even in the nascent stages of the
decision-making process, each man is aware that he is not merely
an unknown atom of society, but rather a "living cell" in organic
relationship with the other "living cells“ of his community (ijg_

3). In Bailey's terms, the members of the Santal village council

are not "abstracted individuals" who will cast an unidentified

275

secret ballot. The council members are life-time members according

to the sanctioned authority of the hapramko pk] gpstpr_(customs of

the ancestors). Furthermore, these responsible decision-makers will
continue to live among their fellows in a face-to-face and independent
relationship.

The Santal villagers, contrary to the "Indian villagers"
observed by Srinivas, are not typically postured "back-to-back", nor
do they conform to Bailey's reference to the Oriyas who say, "Your
brother is your enemy" (121g, 7). The Santal community is one of

interrelating pseudo-kinsmen complete with manjhi haram (village

 

father). This is not a claim that breaches do not occur; the narration
of the "enactments“ gives evidence of various types of breaches occur-
ring. Undoubtedly, the most common considerations of the kulhi durup'
involve the same type of problems found in any Indian village. What
seems different among the Santals is not the desire for unanimity,

the precedence setting functions or the necessity for community
involvement in carrying out council decisions. The major difference

is the cultural value of ato sagai (oneness of mind in the village)

 

and the belief that the omnipresent spirits of the ancestors represent
the established and expected norms of behavior against which all
behavior can and must be measured.

Bailey does not present evidence of values or a belief system
upon which the ideology of consensus or unanimity may have been based
in the traditional panchayat system. He concludes that "we cannot
point to these values and use them immediately as a structural

explanation of behavior" (Ibid. 5). Among the village Santals the

276

values of ato.sagai and strict obedience of the traditions of the
ancestors offer an explanation of the Santal council's pursuit of

consensus so vital to the maintenance of ato sagai.

 

Bailey questions why some councils try to reach consensus
more resolutely than others. He concludes that there is a difference
in the social relations between the councilees and their public.

The "public" represented by the Santal councilees is the immediate
kinsmen of their households. This egalitarian principle in Santal
polity greatly adds to their ability to realize consensus while
‘maintaining the paramount value of "oneness“. Similarly, the fact
that the Santal community is truly a multiplex community leaves no
room for long-term disunity.

The Santal headman is a recognized catalyst in the process

of attaining consensus. As manjhi haram, he represents the customs

 

and the expectations of the ancestors whose rules of behavior are
considered correct and applicable to all situations. The customs of
the ancestors are guiding principles. The headman is the guide toward
the maintenance of the spirit of those principles. The headman in a

Santal community is first the manjhi haram and secondly the pradhan

 

appointed by a representative of the state. The appointment as
pradhan appears to be an aid rather than a hinderance to the headman
whose obligation, among others, is the maintenance of 239.33221: The
fact that the system has worked for more than one hundred fifty years
attests the reliability of the structure which gives the headman

"inside authority" as manjhi haram and "outside authority" as pradhan.

 

 

 

Even the Dangrajolha situation, with all of its pressures toward

277

change, does not prove Santal headmanship disfunctional nor has the
paramount value of ato saga: deteriorated in the Santal community.

The heterogeneous composition of Dangrajolha has not actually
changed the normative process of decision-making in the Santal com-
munity even though that council has become one of three ethnic coun-
cils. When the inter-ethnic council meets the decision-making process

cannot draw upon the cultural value of ato sagai because it is not

 

shared in common among the three separate communities. In Bailey's
terms, the inter-ethnic council, like the new statutory panchayat of
this heterogeneous village, is an "arena council". The members of
the ethnic councils are "steered by the rudder" of those whose
interests are represented or to whom the councilees are personally
answerable. While the members of these decision-making bodies are
especially loyal to their own group, when they come together as a
political body they attempt to dominate each other through the
manipulation of the resources at their command. This phenomena is
well illustrated in the recent crisis over the headmanship in
Dangrajolha.

In the absence of the highly valued ato sagai the headman

 

remains a potential catalytic agent, but one who must compromise and
mediate in order to "keep the peace" and maintain a semblance of
balance in the struggle for political power. The headman of

Dangrajolha who failed as manjhi haram also failed as the catalytic

 

agent whose responsibility included the maintenance of political

balance in the larger village; his only choice was to resign.

278

The ability of councils (and panchayats) to reach consensus
appears to rest on two necessary principles. First, there must be an
acceptable value system providing a basis for consensus. Second,
there must be leadership among those who pursue the process of gaining
consensus, not only to maintain the cultural values, but also to
counterbalance the efforts of those whose goals are not for the good
of all. This study demonstrates cultural continuity among village
Santals which has endured multiple pressures through many years.

The paramount values of atgusggai_and the hapramko 35f gpstpr_remain

as does the provision for necessary leadership found in the fulfill-

ment of Santal headmanship.

DOCUMENTATION

279

DOCUMENTATION

1Manjhipur and Dangrajolha are pseudonyms assigned to the two
villages of primary interest in this study. Manjhi means "headman"
and pp; means village. Dangra means oxen and‘jfiTfiE’refers to Muslim
weavers. Other village names and towns near these villages are also
assigned pseudonyms as are all individuals mentioned by name.

2I first went to India in 1962 under assignment of the United
Methodist Board of Global Ministries to work with employees of the
Methodist Church in Southern Asia in both educational and Village
Uplift programs. These responsibilities included involvements is
adult education, agricultural development and leadership training
programs among three different language groups; Santals, Bengalis
agngiharis7who spoke Hindi. My initial assignment in India was from

to 96 .

3The manjhi than often has a wooden post at the east end.
Rice stalks or tree branches are tied to the post on auspicious
occasions. The post is said to be a phalic symbol, as is the
protruding stone on the top of the mud structure, but the Santals
disclaim any connection between the post and similar symbols used
by the Hindus. Sometimes the manjhi than is covered with a simple
thatched roof but it is never found inside a building.

 

 

4The Santals have had considerable involvement in the
political life of Bihar. Many have participated in the Jharkhand
Party, an "aboriginal" political party which was founded over
thirty years ago under the leadership of an Oxford Educated
Christian Munda, Jai Pal Singh. Reference here is to local par-
ticipation by the villagers in the "new" Panchayat system. See
Orans (1965:96-109) for one account of the Jharkand Party and the
involvement of the Santals.

5The Santalized Hindu calendar used in the Santal Parganas
follows the lunar month cycle. The year begins with the new moon
in March. The following Table shows the Gregorian calendar by month
parallel to the months as observed by the Santals. This parallel
is only approximate because the Gregorian calendar is not a precise
lunar calculation. The third column of the Table refers to the
four seasons of the year, employing the Santali word and the in-
terpretation. It is much more common for the villagers to use the
seasonal name than the name of the months.

280

(No. 5 continued)

281

 

Gregorian Month

Santal Parganas

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Month Season
March Chat
April Baisak Seton (Hot season)
May Jhet
June Asar
July San Japut' (Rainy season)
August Bhader
September Dasae
October Kartik Niron (Summer-Autumn)
November Aghar
December Pp§_
January Mag_ Raban (Cold season)
February Phagun

 

 

6The Santal community tolerates the conversion of individuals
to Christianity and does not cause such converts either to leave the

non-Christian household or the community.

The Christians of

Dangrajolha are scattered throughout the Santal community, among
landless and landholders and among the young and the old.

7About 40% of the married couples of Manjhipur were married
with traditional ceremony which involved a matchmaker employed by the

grooms household.
bride are over 18 or 20 years or over.

Kasima is most often practices when the groom and
It is sometimes encouraged

by the parents of younger people if the material resources necessary

for a traditional marriage are lacking.

See Mukherjea (1962:195-220)

and Orans (1965:58-73) for other accounts of "marriage".

APPENDICES

282

APPENDIX A

283

acur .

adi basi [adi vasi] .

ato sagai

ayuric' .
baba (5a)
baha (Baha)

bahu .
balaya (balia)
ban

bansgari

be_panta

APPENDIX A
GLOSSARY

Santali to English

to turn, to turn around

from Sanskrit: first inhabitants of
the area

wife or husband's elder sister
suffix indicating possession, "of"
suffix form of verb, "have or has"
wisdom, skill

dawn

genitor

village

pseudo kinship relationship of the
residents of any one village

a leader
father, pa, dad

a flower, the female sex organ, a
festival

a bride, a wife

the relationship between the respective
parents or parent-like kinsmen of a
married couple

no, not

from Hindi: a method of posting claim
on land

out of line socially, locally
disapproved

284

beta .
beti .

bhaichara
bigha

boeha
bonga
bud
dai
dal
deko .
din
éebek'
doho .

dustur (dastur)

ghar jawae .

9090 (90)
godet

90690

285

from Hindi: son, little boy
from Hindi: daughter, little girl

from Hindi: the relationship of
brotherhood

a measure of land equal of one-third
of an acre

a sibling

an evil spirit, a demon

wisdom

older sister

pulse, split pea-like vegetable

a caste Hindu, one who irritates

a day, a season

to bow, to salute by bowing, to worship
to put down, to place, to establish
custom

to turn aside, to avoid, to dodge
to turn aside, to avoid, to dodge

designated affinal kinsmen, younger
sister-in-law

a piece of cloth from 1 1/2 to 2 yards
in length of multiple use, usually
worn as the lower garment by Santal men
and boys

a son-in-law who lives with his wife's
household

mother, ma, mom

the village elder who is official
newsbearer

father's elder brother(s)

QQEQW

handi
hapramko
hatom
hijuk'
hili .

hilia

hirom

hoe

her (Her)
hor hopon
jiwfie

jawSe gonki

jgg manjhi .

joto .
juan .
juda .
kaka .

kaki .

kakagongo

-kana

286
"grand" as in grandfather or grand-
daughter
rice wine
the ancestors
father sister(s)
to come, to approach

designated female affines, as elder
brother's wife

a relationship between ego and anyone
designated as elder brother's wife

a second wife, a co-wife

to be, to become, to come to pass
a man, a human being, a Santal

a son of man, a Santal

a bridegroom, a husband
daughter's husband

the assistant village headman in charge
of the moral conduct of the village

all, one and all

a young person of either sex, adolescent
different

father's younger brother(s) and those
of the same kinship relationship as
designated

wife of father's younger brother(s) and
those of the same kinship relationship
as designated

father's elder and younger brothers as
a class

present tense of the verb "to be"

kasima

khfit .

kudam (kudum) .

kudam naeke

kulhi
kulhi durup'

kuman

landa

landa sagai
latu .
lgbgt'
19320
mahajan .

mai

mama .
mami .
manao
manjhi
manjhi haram

manjhi than

manotan .

287

one of several forms of marriage which
does not require all rituals involved
in traditional marriage

a sect, a division designated by
varying totemistic affiliation

the rear, the back, not the front one

the assistant village priest, a village
elder

the main street of the village

a gathering of the village elders and
household heads

father's elder sister's husband
laugh, to laugh, to joke

a joking relationship

big, large, fat

to tread, to trample, to pace off
to cover over, to hide, to subdue
moneylender, a great man

term of address for a younger sister,
daughter

maternal uncle

wife of maternal uncle

to pay respect to, to honor, to obey
village headman

term of address or reference to headman
a rectangular mound containing a phalic
symbol which represents the founder of
the village, a place set aside to the
spirits of departed chiefs

respectable, honorable

marang (maran)

mastigar (mustigar) .

mayam

mukhiya (mukhia) .

naeke

nahum (naham) .
nana .

onka .

orak'

orak' hor .

panja

paranic'
parda
paris

pargana .
Piura

raca .

raja .

ryot (rayot)
sagai

sakrat

288
great, large, to become great, first
born

the overseers and tax collector of the
village

blood, to bleed

chief, principle, elder leader, currently
an elected office to represent an area

of government

the village priest considered a village
elder

sunset, evening

father's elder sister

like that, as that

house, dwelling place, home, family
reference to the wife of the house

to follow, to trace, foot-print, foot
mark

administrative assistant to the headman
a curtain, covering worn over the head
a Santal clan

a division of the country, an overchief
of several adjacent Santal villages

liquor distilled from certain flowers
or from rice

courtyard beside or behind the house

a king, a title born by certain Indian
landholders

a cultivating tenant, cultivator
kinship or kinship-like relationship

a festival observed on the last three days
of the calendar year followed by Hindus

sangha
sangha lptpm

sapha
sapha hor
se

sohrae

tefiaeya (tefiaea) .

tenan

tolla (tola)

uni

289

to marry a second time, a widow or
divorcee of either sex

reference to the children of a woman born
prior to her current marriage

clean, clear, to clean
a Santal converted to Hinduism
or

the chief festival of the Santals as
observed after the rice harvest, but
before the end of the calendar year
followed by Hindus

brothers-in-law, the relationship between
a brother and his elder sister's husband

term of address for mutual among brothers-
in-law or among those who may be desig-
nated as fulfilling the role of brother-
in-law

outlying hamlet or part of a village, a
weight, a depository for grain, the sole
of a shoe

he, she or that

Note: The chief reference for the glossary is Campbell's Santali-
English Dictionary as supplemented by Bodding's five volume
comprehensive dictionary. The Campbell reference more
accurately describes the verbal and written use of Santali
in the Manjhipur region (MacPhail 1953 and Bodding 1932-1936).

APPENDIX B

290

 

APPENDIX 8

TABLE II.--Young Ego's Kinship Relationships.

 

 

Behavioral Kinship Classificatory Ego's Term
Relationship Relationship Relationship of Address
1. Free joking a. YZ bokot boeha mai

b. YB bokot boeha boko
2. Joking a. El1 bokot boeha dai
b. EB goromko gorom ba
c. FF, MF goromko gorom go
d. FM, MM
3. Respectful a. FEZH kumah kumah
Joking b. MB2 mama mama
4. Respect a. F baba baba (ha)
b. M 9090 9090 go)
c. FEB gongo marang ba
d. FEBW gongo marang go
e. FYB kaka kaka
f. MYZH kaka kaka
g. FYBW kaki kaki
h. MYZ kaki kaki
i. MB2 mama mama
5. Respectful a. FEZ hatom nana
Avoidance b. MB mama mami
c. MB mama mama

 

1The relationship with E2 is of respectful joking upon many
occasions. She can be a very special sibling.

2This is a unique situation, the MB/ZS relationship varies
with time and circumstance, i.e. age of ego and sex of ego, but this
is always a respectful relationship of some degree.

292

TABLE III.--Comparison of Two Studies on Male Ego Relationships:

After Marriage With Specified Affines.

 

 

 

Type of Relationship Kinsmen of Type of Relationship
from Kuapara Study Ego from Manjhipur Study
1. joking WYB free joking
2. joking WYZ free joking
3. joking EBW free joking
4. no record EBWZ free joking
5. no record YBWZ free joking
6. no record EZHZ free joking
7. no record YZHZ joking
8. joking EZH joking
9. avoidance WEBW respect

10. avoidance WEB respect

ll. avoidance YZH respect

12. avoidance WEZH respect

13. avoidance WYZH respect

l4. avoidance WYBW avoidance

15. avoidance. YBW strict avoidance

16. avoidance WEZ strict avoidance

Note: The information for the Manjhipur study was obtained through

personal interview with fifty-two married adults of mixed age

and sex.

The interviews employed the J-R-A continuum model

with the seven possible choices as presented on page 62. The
Kuapara study was done by Vijay Kochar (1970).

 

293

TABLE IV.--Comparison of Two Studies on Female Ego Relationships:
After Marriage With Specified Affines.

 

 

 

Type of Relationship Kinsmen of Type of Relationship
from Kuapara Study Ego from Manjhipur Study
1. joking HYB free joking
2. joking HYZ free joking
3. joking EZH free joking
4. no record EZHB free joking
5. joking EBW free joking
6. avoidance YZHB free joking
7. no record EBWB joking
8. no record YBWB joking
9. avoidance HYBW respect

10. avoidance HYZH respect

ll. avoidance HEBW respect

12. avoidance HEZHB respect

13. avoidance YBW respectful

avoidance

14. avoidance HEZH avoidance

15. avoidance HEB strict avoidance

16. avoidance YZH strict avoidance

Note: The information for the Manjhipur study was obtained through

personal interview with fifty-two married adults of mixed age
The interviews employed the J-R-A continuum model
with the seven possible choices as presented on page 62. The
Kuapara study was done by Vijay Kochar (1970).

and sex.

 

APPENDIX C

294

 

APPENDIX C

SANTAL CREATION MYTH

The Santal myth of creation is basic to understanding the
social system. The myth is often recited on important ritual
occasions. Culshaw and others refer to the importance of the myth.
It has been retained among the Santals through the literary records
and for the non-literate majority through oral traditions (Culshaw
1949:64-68). The following version was recorded from a village
headman's recitation during a special family gathering, a life
cycle event marking the celebration of the first steps of his one-
year-old grandson.

"The Creator made two eggs and laid them in a nest of grass

in the warm sun. After some days one has and one “@511 (goose and

 

gander) came out of their shells. After some time the goose laid two

large eggs and hatched them. From these eggs came pilcu haram and

 

pilcu budhi (first man and first women). Because they were hatched

 

from eggs, they were not true brother and sister.

Pilcu budhi always gathered wild rice and pilcu haram always

 

 

hunted for small animals to eat. One day pilcu budhi gathered too

much rice while she waited for pilcu haram to return from hunting.

 

She cooked a large pot full of rice, but pilcu haram was too tired

 

to eat. The rice boiled and boiled all night. The next day when
pilcu haram awoke the sun was high in the sky and pilcu budhi had

 

 

gone to gather more firewood. He waited for her to return for a

295

296

long time and became very hungry. Finally, he drank too much of the
sour water from the rice pot and it made him very happy (half drunk).
This was the first handi (rice beer). When pilcu budhi did return

he gave her some handi to drink too and they became very happy

 

together. The two lay together for the first time in sex play while
they were half drunk and had coitus. They were still young people
but pilcu budhi became pregnant and bore a son. After that she bore

 

a daughter.
She continued to bear children, first a son and then a

daughter; but after each pair of children was born pilcu haram and

 

pilcu budhi moved to a different place to live. Pilcu budhi bore

 

twelve pair of children and each pair was named according to some-
thing they had seen in the place where the children were born. The
names given the twelve pair were: Hasdak', Murmu, Kisku, Hembrom,
Marndi, Soren, Tudu, Baske, Besra, Pauria, Core and Bedea. These

were the first true hor hopon (sons of man--Santals). Each true

 

brother carefully protected the sister whose name was his name.

Pilcu haram and pilcu budhi were very happy with their family of

 

 

healthy and obedient children.

After some time pilcu haram and pilcu budhi became old and

 

 

tired. One day when the family was all together in a beautiful grove
of trees the father asked his children to sing and dance. They sang
and danced all afternoon and all night. They forgot to eat their
rice. They were so tired after dancing and singing that they slept
all of the following day and evening. When they awoke they were

very hungry and thirsty and they all drank too much of the souring

297

rice water which had boiled and remained in the hot sun for many hours.
It was 93291: They all drank until they became very happy (half

drunk) and they sang and danced and drank more. The true brothers

and sisters became separated and when they lay down to sleep each
brother was with a different young woman. During the night each brother
had sex play and coitus with the young woman he had chosen and from

that day he kept her for his wife. Until this time the young women

had all remained untouched by a man because their true brothers had
protected them.

On the morning of the third day pilcu haram awoke early and

 

found the true brothers and sisters were separated. Each brother

had forsaken his true sister of paris and had taken another as his

 

wife. From that time until today no man has been allowed to lay

with a woman from his own paris. No man can take a paris sister for

 

his wife because they are his true sisters. But all Santal men must
marry Santal women and all Santal women must marry Santal men of

other pairs.

 

The twelve new wives bore sons and daughters. These children

were strong and happy. They were hop hopon. Our children must be

 

strong and happy. Our children must obedient. Our children must
walk in the way of our fathers. We must teach them. We must stay
together as hor_hopon and protect our true brothers and sisters"

(also see Mukherjea 1962:1-45).

APPENDIX D

298

APPENDIX D
THE BANSGARI CASE

The following is an actual copy of the judgment given in a
criminal case which ultimately clarified Sobhan's legal possession
of the 28 acre tract of land in Manjhipur in 1921. Actual names and
dates have been omitted except for Sobhan's which is a pseudonym.

A few words should be explained for the reader who is
unfamiliar with certain terms used in this document.

1. Bans ari is a method of staking a claim on land which is not
reg stered as the landholding of a designated person. This
procedure involves the presence of the person making the
claim along with the government surveyor known as an amin
and his helpers. The amin measures the land in question and
records each plot claimed by the person making claim. A
wooden stake is driven into each plot of ground after the
measurement and record are made. The helpers of the amin
carry drums which they beat very loudly to draw attention
to the entire procedure.

2. Bhag means "on shares".

3. Patwari means "collector of revenue".

CRIMINAL CASE NO. OF 1921

 

In the Court of , Sub-Deputy
Magistrate of the Paurapur District, Santal Parganas,
Bihar
Complainant: Sobhan Tudu of Paharjuri, Pargana

versus
Accused: l. ____, Mustagir 2. Paramanik

3. , Choukidar 4. of Manjhipur

 

Under Section 447 of the Indian Penal Code
299

 

300

(Bansgari Case continued)

 

 

JUDGMENT
Sobhan Tudu Vs. l. Manjhi Mustagir
2. Paramanik
3. Choukidar

 

Section 447 I.P.C.

The allegation of the complainant is that he get settlement
of about 85 bighas of land in village Manjhipur from the Sub-
Divisional Officer with the approval of the Deputy Commissioner and
on the day of last got possession over it by bansgari.
One or two days after the bansgari, it is stated, the four accused
persons along with other people of the village, went to the land
and ploughed it, throwing away the bamboo posts which were fixed
in each plot in token of the bansgari, and sowed paddy in it.

The accused deny any knowledge of the bansgari. ,
who is the Mustagir of the village, admits having ploughed and
sown the land on the day of the occurrence with the help of almost
all the people of the village and states that he has been in
cultivating possession of it for the last two years. The accused,

, also states that he cultivated the land on bhag on behalf
of on the day of occurrence. The remaining two accused
say that they did not join the people in the ploughing and sowing
of the land that day.

Several witnesses have been examined by the complainant.
From the evidence of the Amin and other witnesses, it has been
quite satisfactorially proved that the bansgari was really made
on the land by the beat of drum, and bamboo posts were fixed in
each and every plot of it. The Amin remained on the land fixing
the posts and proclaiming the bansgari for about four hours. It
would be preposterous to believe that the accused and the other
people of the village had no knowledge of it. Moreover they must
have come to know of it on seeing the bamboo posts which they
removed. The prosecution witnesses have proved that all of the
four accused have joined in the act of ploughing and sowing the
land, and removing the bamboo posts from the plots. It has also
been proved that the land was lying uncultivated for the two years
past, and two rent receipts have been filed to show that he [the
Mustagir] has paid rent for it, though it is admitted that the
land was not settled with him. But none of the defense witnesses
appears to be reliable. Three of them (DWs 1,2 and 4) are
relations of . D.Ws. 3 is a dismissed Choukidar who was

301

once in prison for theft and D.Ws. 5 in himself is the Mustagir of
the village. The receipts look suspicious and I'm not inclined to
believe them.

For the above reasons, there is no doubt that the accused
persons, with the full knowledge of the bansgari, knowingly and at
the instigation of , the Mustagir who covets the land, ploughed
up the land which the complainant had lawfully got by bansgari, and
I consider them criminally liable for trespassing upon it with the
intention of dispossessing him. I, therefore, finding them guilty
under Section 447 O.P.C. order them to pay Rupees: Twenty-five
(Rs 25/00),eadh, in default three weeks Rigorous Imprisonment

Paurapur Signed

 

Magistrate Firsthlass
of 1921

SEAL

APPENDIX E

302

APPENDIX E
GENEOLOGICAL TABLE FOR MANJHIPUR

The nineteen p§§_of Manjhipur are recorded in the form of
a Table on the following pages. The p§§_are referred to as lineages.

The paris are referred to as clans. The column in the table entitled

 

"lineage head" refers to known ancestors. The column in the table
entitled "Map No." refers to the map of Manjhipur on page 53. The
letters in parenthesis are abbreviations for: married men without
children, (M); bachelors beyond 25 years of age, (Bh); youth of
marriage age. (¢); and boys between the ages of 6 and 16, (B). All
names which appear are Santali names but are pseudonyms in this case.

The names of all deceased persons are underlined.

303

szpmpnmu .N sow .N

 

 

 

 

 

304

 

 

 

 

 

 

A>vwmnscm ._ mxmmm .F —mnwmm .m
Acmvmaaa .p cmgoco .N
szzumm .F m.n.m.m aumm axmfig u
Amvzxcmgm .F Fence: .F opomu .N
a. m ._ . me memo: 20mm2m: o
Aemvwacmam .N
acmecm .m Pmczz .F enema .F sogm .N
A>V=xaeo .N
szzcma .P canoe .p mzpma .N
szzgoh .N mm
A>Vmcmczw cmgmpz .P mcww .F cmnmwz .F .mm.~.~ Fmezm zomm2m: o
A>vmmxmza .N
.ucmmcw P Pena panamcu .F mmxmgo we axox zomm2m: m
“cues? P amuse mmcpm .N
Acmvscmo mega: .F __ a op mce< <mmum <
com com com com .oz an: vow: mummcwb capo mucosa;

 

.gaawzncmz mo mmcwpwgpmm cmmpmcwz achii.> mam<~

 

 

 

 

Amvczxaee

 

 

 

 

 

 

305

 

 

 

 

 

Amveaeeoe Seameam .F sae_o ._ Hom<z H
names? P Hoz<m<z :
peace? N zoo: an m .N
szmcmgmz .F
A>Veme=z Aczvamaz .N
szpapnau seax .F saga: .N
Amvaeaz Fascez .F axaam ._ om.mm.em =¥mH¥ a
Amvaeam
A>veaae_a
A>v=¥aa Aczvaeeam .N
Amvecm_m
CV 3:3.
names? N annex :mmow .— Emcmcmm .N
Amvzcaeu sage .P expose .P ae.ee.ma nxmax a
com com com .umm: mummcpg cm_u manage;

 

 

.aoaeeoeao--.> mam<e

306

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Asaza aosoev sea: age: .. am omao: =::=: :
A>Veom .N
A>VFaaaam .P axamsa .a .
a_a: .a
Aamwmmm: .N .iiiii.
saga: .F aecaaa .N
Aacaaao ca aeaa aaaaaa<v aaaaa .N .
Aavaaeae .a
A>Vaaaaa .N
A>v=maa ._ =mEaau ._ Famea: ._ Na._a.aa amaaa =:a:: :
A:veo:m .a
Aczvaaoaa .N
Aaavaaae .N ea
Aavpaaaam ._ maaaa: ._ sea: .P aa.ma.~a coma: Hoaa: a
:avaaaau .a
A>v=eoa .a
A>Vcauam ._ spa; .N A.p:ouv
can aeaeea _ _aca: ._ aaaau .N H
com com com com .oz an: nae: mmamcwg capo mmamcwg

 

 

.vmacmucouii.> u4m<h

 

307

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

> Pmmcaa .m
szcaz .e
::vpaa:xa: .a
szaa=Eam .N
A:V::eoeae ._ acaeaa .a eaaaom Done 2
szaoanEa: .m
Aszvavab .N
com «came? _ :mmw ._ swam .N
Amy
om:uo.~
Am: A:Vpaaaaaa .N
exam .P Papnmo ._ poem: .p gamma .F Fapsnam .N
meocaca .N
> amen: .— macaw .m
A:v=:a:m .N
mcom ucamca mac
Amvzcao .m
M>w=ao:. .N ap.mp.ap
> a_oz. cacxad ._ pocaz .F wuom .F op.mp.ep oucoa soap 2
com com com com .oz naz tam: manage: capo manage:

 

 

.aozaaaeau--.> maa<e

308

 

mcom pcamcp mam

 

omamm

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

AmV—zxam .F mama; .P axgam .F acak .F .Nm.~m.om are; soak o
:avaaaaa .a
A>Vzcaz .m
szspam .N
szzewz .F pocaz .F :ameaz .N
szzcah .a
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