By Patricia Mukhim
For the average Khasi the concept of nation is not India but the Khasi nation called, “Ka Ri ” and its people called “Ka Jaidbynriew.” These two words are used effectively during elections and when politicians and interest groups want to ignite a sense of nationalism such as in the present context when the society is caught in a spasm of ideological pain. That the idea of grass-roots governance system for administering basic civic governance and development work is sought to be enmeshed in an exclusivist, traditionalist framework is deeply problematic. Many of those who have held office in these traditional institutions consider the framing of a Grassroots Administration Bill by the State Government as an infringement on their customary rights, thereby painting the State Government as an alien power that seeks demolish the idea of Khasi nationhood. But this dichotomy needs to be resolved because the debate is simply draining our collective energies. A time has come to take a call. We have moved on in many other aspects of life unquestioningly but remain intransigent on the idea of the Dorbar Shnong and how it should be constituted. In a democracy it is important to support only those institutions that are constituted through universal adult suffrage. Anything else is a contravention of the democratic principles enshrined in this country’s Constitution. We cannot continue to sustain an oligarchy that takes shelter in the fig leaf of tradition when we have accepted the broad principles of democracy no matter how faulty it is because the alternatives are worse.
CW Watson’s essay on Multiculturalism is an eye opener. Watson argues very effectively that what we call a national culture and tradition are specious and should be subjected to intense interrogation instead of being accepted unquestioningly. The Khasi society today is sought to be portrayed as one that is paranoid about the loss of a ‘national’ Khasi culture or Khasi self image, or Khasi idiom or Khasi creed which springs from a strong conviction that one’s own sense of self respect, one’s own set of moral values and political principles which one wants to pass on to future generation seem to be in jeopardy. To the traditionalist the crisis of the Khasi nation, is in this sense a personal crisis since one’s own sets of beliefs and consequently one’s self esteem are being implicitly denied. But this is the argument of ethnic minorities in reverse. In fact the fear rests on a false premise of what Khasi culture is and how it affects individuals. Watson states that culture itself is a catch-all word and to many it is simply a distinctive way of life. But when people were questioned on the substantive content of this culture the answers in each case differed according to who is being asked to define the culture. Watson therefore concludes that the summation of what is culture is spurious in character.
Perhaps an easy way to test this is to ask oneself what are the common features, moral and political principles, cultural reference points which one shares with fellow Khasis. The more one thinks about it the more hard-pressed one is to come up with a defining commonality. Today most Khasis are bound not by culture but by the socio economic background, education, occupation and religion, all of which have stronger influence on behaviour and attitudes. We can observe very easily how such influences often mean that despite differences in language, we often have more in common with others across state and national boundaries than within them. However, if one persists in searching for that distinctive Khasi nationhood one either ends up with the banal and the trite – such as the Khasi value system which everyone waxes eloquent about but hardly anyone practices. Of course we have the superfluous connections such as a common food habit, dress, dance and song etc., which people of other cultures also claim as theirs in their ideal form. Further, any claim about the continuity of cultural forms would be found on close historical examination to be unsustainable, since, in fact, the symbols and forms of culture have always been in a state of flux and have undergone substantial change over the centuries.
In that case Khasi culture and tradition are, beyond a very superficial level, specious entities when compared to state laws and national political institutions where the term ‘national’ implies sovereignty. Hence this should make us question the source of those strong emotions and attachments which, it was suggested above, we all, to some degree feel in relation to the notion of our own native tradition. It may well be that what we are responding to is not at all a cultural tradition, let alone a national culture but simply familiar institutions which Durkheim calls ‘social facts,’ or conventional ways of doing things which are so intimate that they are second nature to us. Their very familiarity provides us with psychological security of the same kind as the use of our mother tongue, another social fact. For that reason alone, anything which appears to jeopardize their existence seems a threat to our own identity. Or to put it in the words of Forsythe’s well-established anthropological sets of ideas, these alien elements appear to contaminate or pollute us.
But simply hanging on to what we regard as familiar, disguises the fact that we are constantly adjusting to changes in our social environment and learning to recognise new cues and how to act appropriately to them. Hence what we feel such a strong attachment to is not in fact a cluster of habits but the evocation of that state of sureness and familiarity which we are persuaded by authoritative others such as politicians, writers, media representatives, the personalities representing popular culture etc. Khasi culture is often tagged to powerful and resonant symbols such as songs (Khynriam u Pnar u Bhoi u War/ U dei u paid Khasi baiar or Helen Giri’s, “Kane ka dei ka Ri jong nga/Ba la umsnam u kni u kpa/ U Tirot Sing, U Kiang Nangbah/ Dienjat jong ki hangne kan sah). Then we have the flags of various pressure groups such as the KSU and FKJGP with inscriptions therein professing loyalty to the Khasi nation and its heroic historical figures like Tirot Sing and Kiang Nangbah. Those who question this appropriation of the Khasi voice are considered “traitors.” For reasons unknown the Khasis would label such people as “dohlab” – the spleen an important organ of the human body.
If we were more conscious of the way in which these appeals are being voiced we would be less likely to succumb to the seductive power of Khasi nationalistic rhetoric and more inclined to interrogate the claims being made in the name of Khasi nationalism or Khasi national culture. Beyond the appeal to the commonly shared polysemic (word or phrase with multiple meaning) symbols – which can mean different things to different people, while still carrying the same emotional weight for all – what are the values and the institutions we are being asked to endorse, and are they in their present form as central to our identity as they appear to be for advocates of a Khasi national tradition?
It may so happen that when we have penetrated through the rhetoric of nationalism and tradition, there are values and perspectives which we do share with advocates of Khasi nationalism. In fact we may find ourselves accepting the styles and perspectives of the world which we have learnt through engagement with those whose origins and status in society are different from our own. And this would apply not only to styles lived by members of ethnic groups other than our own but to those of a different class, occupational group or even gender. Rather than take for granted received wisdom we have to make our values our own and the way to do this is through discussion, openness, the exchange of ideas and the learning of new habits. The threat to our social fabric comes not from challenges posed by seemingly alien traditions but from refusal to engage in discussion, an unwillingness to contemplate change and the misperception of what culture is.
That we now have several young writers expressing their views through popular media and that a kind of churning is taking place in Khasi society despite the attempts by some to preclude debate is a healthy sign. That the youth are exchanging opinions is a reflection that they imbibed the principles of democratic dissent and can therefore bring about social transformation. This is a cause for celebration.
The Khasi nation is coming of age and no single group can now claim to represent the collective voice of the Khasis. There are multiple voices and they are strong voices of reason and logic. Those who wish to lead this society cannot impose their views but must give ear to these voices of change!