By Raphael Warjri
The system of governance, as designed, does not rely on large public crowds or mass participation for democratic oversight. Instead, it operates through a more localized, domestic framework, where the primary role of the representative is to facilitate communication and contribute to the administration based on the collective aspirations of their family or clan. These aspirations are advocated by the representatives at various levels of governance, from the village or locality council up to the provincial council or Dorbar Hima, ensuring that the needs of the grassroots are consistently voiced and considered.
At the domestic level, all adult members of a family assert their rights, which are then brought forward by their representative to the village or locality council. In turn, representatives from all households in the village elect the chief and other executive members of the council. While the general council in the village or locality is open to all residents, only the elected representatives are entitled to speak during the proceedings. This structure helps minimize disruptive or irrelevant commentary from the public, as any concerns or issues are already raised by their respective representatives. If a family feels their representative is not adequately advocating for their interests, they have the option to file a complaint and replace them.
Similarly, at higher administrative levels, chiefs from localities or villages represent their communities in district councils or legislative assemblies. These representatives participate in discussions, while the executive members from all localities and villages may attend the general council. From among the chiefs, the general council elects a representative to serve in the District Council or Legislative Assembly. Should the need arise, these elected representatives can be replaced by senior executive members who assume the role of the new chief in the locality or village council.
This system offers a streamlined, efficient alternative to traditional democratic processes. By limiting unnecessary delays in council meetings and avoiding the need for a more complex electoral process, resources are conserved for other development projects. The system encourages grassroots leadership evolution, ensures constant scrutiny of representatives at the local level, and fosters effective administration with fewer resources and less effort. Additionally, it reduces the risk of nepotism often associated with political parties, as the focus remains on the community’s needs and the representatives’ ability to serve them. In essence, this approach creates a more responsive, efficient, and accountable governance structure.
The democratic ethos in Khasi society begins at the most intimate level of the household, where authority is shared between the mother and her brother—the maternal uncle who guides and protects his sisters’ children. This dual leadership extends outward into successive circles of governance: first to the family council (Dorbar Iing), then to the clan council (Dorbar Kur) of a shared maternal lineage, the village council (Dorbar Shnong) where multiple clans coexist, the district council (Dorbar Raij) composed of representatives of various clans, and ultimately the federal or provincial council (Dorbar Hima).
In earlier times, the union of these federal councils formed what was considered the Nation of the Khasi people, known as Ri—a word derived from Bri, loosely meaning communal land or homeland. Thus, Ri was understood as the nation of the Khasi people, each Hima (state) maintaining its own distinct boundaries.
Yet, within this collective identity, complexity emerged. A section of the Khasi people, particularly those in the eastern highlands, came to be identified as Jaintia. Some even distanced themselves from the Khasi name altogether, preferring this distinct label. This shift carries deep historical roots, for the word Jaintia itself is not indigenous but borrowed from the external influence of neighboring Bengal.
Originally, this region was the Hima Sutnga, homeland of the Pnar people in what is now the Jaintia Hills. Oral narratives recount that the Sutnga chief once sought fertile land in Bengal. The price demanded was exorbitant—“a shield full of coins for the area covered by a shield.” Unable to pay, the chief devised a stratagem: he ordered a master cobbler to cut the leather shield into long thin strips, which were then stretched to encircle a vast tract of fertile plain. When the Bengal ruler realized the trick, conflict loomed, but the Sutnga chieftain’s display of military might, bolstered by his warriors and mythical giants known as Mar, compelled the ruler to yield. Though this account is likely metaphorical, it symbolizes the expansion of Sutnga influence into the plains.
The acquired land was under a Muslim ruler (a Nizam) with Hindu-majority subjects. The Hindus, finding religious affinity with the indigenous faith of the Sutnga chief, extended their support. Over time, Hindu practices blended with Pnar traditions. Rituals along the route from Muktapur to Nartiang and Jowai bear testimony to this syncretism. The emergence of the Bamon clan among the Pnar, derived from Hindu Brahmins, reflects this enduring influence.
The Sutnga chieftains, increasingly absorbed in the prosperous plains, began to neglect the highlands. Local administration in the hills was entrusted to twelve territorial chiefs known as Dolloi, who managed affairs with little interference from the royal court. The plains, meanwhile, became the nucleus of royal power, leading to the adoption of the name Jaintiapur—derived from Jayanti, meaning victory or triumph in Sanskrit. This nomenclature, embraced by Hindu subjects and later by the British, gradually overshadowed the original identity of Sutnga and Pnar.
Through successive conflicts—with neighboring Bodo Kachari, Ahom, and Dimasa kingdoms—the Sutnga rulers retained influence until they eventually clashed with the expanding British Empire. Following their defeat, the Jaintiapur kingdom was annexed, and with it, the British extended authority over the Pnar hills. Colonial administration, combined with local assimilation, entrenched the identity of Jaintia as both a political and cultural label.
This legacy reshaped ethnic consciousness. Many Pnar embraced the Jaintia identity, regarding it as a marker of pride, while drifting from the broader Khasi identity. Yet, not all followed this path. Pnar communities farther removed from the plains retained their allegiance to the universal identity of the Khasi people, grounded in shared customs, social practices, and spiritual traditions rooted in the faith of Hynniewtrep Hynniewskum.
Thus, while the name Jaintia reflects historical encounters with Bengal, Hindu influence, and colonial recognition, the deeper truth remains: the Pnar are integral to the larger Khasi family. Their history, though shaped by external forces, ultimately reaffirms the single ethnic foundation of the Khasi community.
