The common perception of Indians in Guyana, before the emergence of Dr Cheddi Jagan in the 1940s, was that they were incapable of leadership roles beyond their own comfort zones. Indians were too clannish, too emotional, and too untrained and unprepared for political leadership in western environments. Indian women were defined as domesticated husband-pleasers.
In some ways, these perceptions are unfortunately still around, especially in urban areas and among Indians themselves. One perception is that an Indian man from Berbice holds the Guyana record for travelling from his village to New York barefoot, exemplifying how backward he was.
That said, I argue here that while some of these perceptions are accurate insofar as Indians have been locked in a low-wage plantation domain that has stifled personal and communal growth and development, Indians have always engaged in leadership roles that have not always been western-oriented. Western concepts of leadership tend to revolve around theories like trait, contingency, situational, behavioural, participative, transactional and transformative, and the list goes on. These theories have been useful in understanding leadership styles and roles, but they are inadequate when applied to Indian leadership before the 1940s. Indian leadership roles emerged from their ancestral homeland customs, but were also as effective and efficient as western-oriented leadership styles in their own respective settings.
The Panchayat, a Council of five males, was a licensed adjudicating political system in which Indians showed enormous levels of leadership skills. The Council was made-up of five of the most reputable and respected male members of the community, who listened to complaints and cases and made decisions on them. The Panchayat handled mainly social issues (individually and collectively), but at times criminal cases. Penalties were generally based on giving back to the community. Physical punishment was rare. Interestingly, too, was that if someone did not believe that fair justice was administered, he or she had the right to take the same case to the western-oriented courts. The Panchayat was like the Supreme Court to Indians.
The Panchayat worked well for Indians in their homeland, but did not survive in British Guiana as in India. The western-oriented court system did not recognize the Panchayat, and considered it to be unlawful.
Indians spoke out against, and even challenged, the lack of recognition of their internal judicial system, but to no avail. The western-oriented court system was simply more powerful. The Panchayat was subsequently pushed underground in Indian communities, but who were involved and how it was conducted changed from being predominantly male to include women.
The inclusion of women was coterminous with the overall transformation and breakdown of the Indian strict social structure, which eventually led to the status of women being determined and dictated not by ascribed, but achieved, characteristics. Some women also took advantage of their low sex ratio to men to have more than one male partner, and even bargained to be in important positions in their society, positions that were once secured for men. These semi-liberating plantation dynamics allowed women to realize their potential not only in their own circles, but also in male-dominated domains.
I understand that by the 1920s, soon after indentured emancipation, some women did accompany their husbands when the Panchayat was administered, especially to resolve neighbour disputes or quarrels that occurred “across the road” and “over the picket fence.” But how effective was women’s participation in the Panchayat is not precisely known. That women had made inroads into the Panchayat system, however, suggests that the system was more flexible than previously thought, even if the role of women was one of observation and subservience. The point is not that women could not participate, but rather if women were really interested in the politics of Panchayat. Plausible, too, is that in a society where men and women socialized separately on most occasions, one would suspect that men would have a difficult time settling disputes and providing solutions to women’s problems. Therefore, it may not be farfetched to theorize that there was possibly a parallel but hidden female Panchayat during and after indenture that was geared towards dealing with women’s issues and challenges. I am thinking here about Matikor.
I think the Panchayat should be revived, especially since the current regime, through the Ministry of Social Cohesion, is seeking ways to bring the various ethnic groups into a national cultural dialogue. Indians can bring the Panchayat to the table for discussion in terms of moving this idea of social cohesion forward. I am convinced that political/cultural recovery is an inevitable condition of our times when the international as well as national systems are being transformed uncontrollably. We in the developing world, like Guyana, should find ways in which we can contribute to this unavoidable transformation that is unique to us, rather than simply be recipients of wider world movements. The recovery and revival of Panchayat may be that opportunity we have been waiting for. ([email protected])
