By Bhogtoram Mawroh
That the Khasi are a matrilineal community is a well-known fact. However, how old this custom is and which other groups follow similar practices is less well-known. There’s often recourse to the phrase ‘time immemorial’ when talking about traditions and customs, as a way of saying we don’t know. However, this is unsatisfactory since it allows even dubious claims to be considered genuine. For example, the exclusion of women and non-Khasi people from the Durbar Shnong on the grounds of its antiquity has been found to be untrue. Many commentators, including Fabian Lyngdoh, have pointed out that the Durbar Shnong is a modern institution and, as such, must adhere to modern principles—especially regarding the provisions of equality enshrined in the country’s constitution. I would not advocate for any drastic change in the composition and rules of the Durbar Raid and the Durbar Hima, as they require further understanding. However, recent works, such as Reeju Ray’s 2023 book ‘Placing the Frontier in British North-East India’ show that colonialism truncated the role of women in the political sphere, often creating or emphasizing male dominance. Interestingly, the book reveals that women could, in fact, become Syiem.
In 1878, W.S. Clarke, the Deputy Commissioner (DC) of the Khasi-Jaintia Hills, was tasked with holding official inquiries into issues of succession to the position of Syiem. He collected information from all the Syiems except Rambrai and noted that candidates for the position ‘must be a native of the state (Hima) for which he (or she) stands, must be a blood relation of the last Syiem, and that females are eligible for the office of Syiem.’ This raises an intriguing question: if women can hold the office of Syiem, how can they be excluded from the process of selecting one? Furthermore, if the Dorbar Shnong were a “time immemorial” institution, which it is not, the exclusion of women would seem quite odd. From either perspective, the non-inclusion of women in the Dorbar Shnong appears to lack both traditional logic and modern sensibility. It is high time we have a female Rangbah Shnong (with a feminine form of the title if needed), and I am told that there may be one very soon. When that happens, the debate around the ‘time immemorial’ logic will likely be renewed. However, those opposing such a change will need stronger arguments than mere recourse to tradition.
But how can we understand the original logic behind our traditional institutions, which have been lost or distorted due to the disruptions caused by colonialism and the introduction of Christianity (a profoundly patriarchal religion, along with Islam and Judaism as part of the Abrahamic triad)? A few hints can be found by examining the existing customs themselves, but it may be more useful to look for clues elsewhere, in different cultural milieus.
The Mosuo are a small ethnic group living in China’s Yunnan and Sichuan provinces and are one of the most well-known matrilineal communities in the world. In this culture, women own and inherit property, do the farming, and run the household—cooking, cleaning, and child-rearing. Men help with more physically demanding tasks, such as plowing, building, repairing homes, slaughtering animals, and assisting with major family decisions, although the final say always rests with the grandmother. However, the men in the household are not husbands but the brothers of the family, as the Mosuo are known for a unique marital practice called ‘walking marriage.’ This term refers to a practice in which men and women do not live together but instead often meet only at night at the woman’s residence.
When a man visits, he hangs a hat on the door handle of the woman’s quarters as a sign to other men not to enter. These visits may range from one-night encounters to regular meetings that can develop into exclusive, lifelong partnerships. Nevertheless, the men always return to their maternal homes in the morning. Those who find this custom unusual might note its similarity to the system practiced by the Pnar, a subgroup of the Khasi found today in the East and West Jaintia Hills (excluding the Amlarem area, which is a War area). Among the Pnar, the husband would stay overnight and then return to his mother’s house in the morning. The custom of the husband or partner staying only for the night might seem strange to patriarchal Middle Eastern Christian, and Western sensibilities, but the cultural context is very different. If considered from a certain logic, it makes sense. If I belong to a particular lineage, then the most natural place for me to live would be in the house of my lineage. My partner or wife’s house belongs to her lineage and is the abode of her lineage members, such as her siblings and mother, from whom the lineage descends. If I go and stay with her permanently, it would imply that I have either been made an outcast or my own home no longer exists—that is, I am homeless.
Another important feature of the Khasi matrilineal system is that the husband’s lineage does not change after marriage; instead, the child takes the mother’s surname. This is also a highly respectable tradition. In patriarchal societies, like that of the caste Indians, if one changes their surname after marriage, then the husband and wife would technically belong to the same lineage. But wouldn’t that make them siblings? I am not aware of any culture that views incest favorably. This concern does not arise in matrilineal societies, which are both sensitive and logical about such matters. Therefore, any bemusement should not be directed at matrilineal customs but rather at patrilineal customs, which are, in many ways, quite puzzling.
The Khasi now follow a custom of matrilocality, meaning that husbands come to stay at the wife’s house. This appears to be a more recent custom that may have begun just before or shortly after the arrival of colonialism in the hills. But how do we know that the present practice was not the original one? The answer may be found in another matrilineal community—the largest in the world, in fact.
The Minangkabau are the largest ethnic group on the island of Sumatra, Indonesia, with their traditional homeland in the west-central highlands. What is most interesting about this community is that, although predominantly Muslim, they follow matrilineal customs, tracing descent and inheritance through the female line. Like the Khasi, most of whom now follow a patriarchal Middle Eastern Christian religion, the Minangkabau also follow a related religion, Islam, but have chosen to maintain their traditional customs. In this culture, traditionally, a married couple stayed in the house of the wife’s maternal relatives. The husband, however, was considered a guest who visited his wife at night. So, what is the connection between the Khasis, Mosuo, and Minangkabau? And when was that connection severed? Today, these three communities are found thousands of kilometers apart.
It is interesting to note that these three communities belong to three distinct language families: Khasi (Austroasiatic), Mosuo (Sino-Tibetan), and Minangkabau (Austronesian). It is, therefore, quite surprising that all three would have such similar customs. The answer may lie in their original homeland. The Mosuo are currently found in southern China, which was also the homeland of Austroasiatic-speaking people who later migrated to Southeast Asia and South Asia (i.e., the Khasi and Munda). The Austronesian language family, on the other hand, traces its origin to Taiwan, which today is a flashpoint between China and the West, with China claiming the region as its own. This follows a familiar pattern in which the land of indigenous people is appropriated by non-indigenous populations through violence and later claimed as their own. A related example would be how illegal European immigrants took the land of indigenous Palestinians and are now committing genocide against them. Returning to the Austronesians, their origin in Taiwan and the fact that some Austronesian groups practice matrilineal customs suggest that matrilineality was either widespread throughout central and southern China or was acquired as they migrated through South Vietnam and further into Oceania. Today, Austronesian-speaking indigenous communities in the Solomon Islands still follow matrilineal customs. Given that the Austroasiatic groups left southern China around 6,000 years ago, matrilineal customs must be at least that old. Curiously, a few years ago, I met a Minangkabau woman and a tribal chief from the Solomon Islands—both from matrilineal societies—in Rome. It was a wonderful experience.
From all this discussion, it is important to understand that the phrase ‘time immemorial’ is meaningless as a justification for excluding certain groups, such as women and non-Khasis, without a true understanding of our cultural and traditional facts. We are a mixed community—genetically (with both Southeast Asian and South Asian ancestry) and religiously, with indigenous faith practitioners, Christians, Muslims, Hindus, and atheists. Yet the defining feature of our identity is our matrilineal customs. However, even this must be understood in its proper context; one cannot simply make claims or invent traditions out of thin air, especially those that seek to disenfranchise parts of the community. Recently, the KHADC has allowed women to be part of the Dorbar Shnong, a change that was long overdue. In the future, we will need further changes, and ‘time immemorial’ cannot be used as an excuse to prevent them.
(The views expressed in the article are those of the author and do not reflect in any way his affiliation to any organisation or institution)