ENCOUNTER AND INTERVENTIONS

The advent of colonialism and its associated developments has been

characterized as one of the most defining moments in the history of
South Asia. The arrival of Christian missionaries has not only been
coeval to colonial rule, but also associated with development in the
region. Their encounter, critique, endeavour and intervention have
been very critical in shaping South Asian society and culture, even
where they did not succeed in converting people. Yet, there is precious
little space spared for studying the role and impact of missionary
enterprises than the space allotted to colonialism. Isolated individual
efforts have focused on Bengal, Madras, Punjab and much remains to
be addressed in the context of the unique region of the North East
India. In North East India, for example, by the time the British left, a
majority of the tribals had abandoned their own faith and adopted
Christianity. It was a socio-cultural revolution. Yet, this aspect has
remained outside the scope of history books. Whatever reading
material is available is pro-Christian, mainly because they are either
sponsored by the church authorities or written by ecclesiastical
scholars. Very little secular research was conducted for hundred years
of missionary endeavour in the region. The interpretations, which have
emerged out of the little material available, are largely simplistic and
devoid of nuances. This book is an effort to decenter such explanations
by providing an informed historical and cultural appreciation of the
role and contribution of missionary endeavors in British India.

Sajal Nag is currently a Senior Professor and Head, Department of

History and Dean, School of Social Sciences, Assam University, Silchar.
He is the author of The Beleaguered Nation: Making and Unmaking
of the Assamese Nationality (2016); and Contesting Marginality:
Ethnicity, Insurgency and Sub Nationalism in North East India ( 2002);
among others.
M. Satish Kumar is in the School of Geography, Archaeology and
Paleoecology, in Queens University, Belfast Northern Ireland. His
publications include Colonial and Postcolonial Geographies of India
(co-edited with Saraswati Raju and Stuart Corbridge).
 ENCOUNTER
AND
INTERVENTIONS
Christian Missionaries in
Colonial North-East India

Edited by
SAJAL NAG
M. SATISH KUMAR

MANOHAR
2024
First published 2024
by Routledge
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and by Routledge
605 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017
Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business
© 2024 Sajal Nag, M. Satish Kumar and Manohar Publishers
The right of Sajal Nag and M. Satish Kumar to be identified as authors of the
editorial material, and the contributors for their individual chapters, has been
asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and
Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or
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or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information
storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers.
Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered
trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to
infringe.
Print edition not for sale in South Asia (India, Sri Lanka, Nepal, Bangladesh,
Pakistan or Bhutan)
British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN: 9781032545868 (hbk)
ISBN: 9781032545875 (pbk)
ISBN: 9781003425601 (ebk)
DOI: 10.4324/9781003425601
Typeset in Minion Pro 11/13
by Ravi Shanker, Delhi 110095
 To
The Memory of
TH. ROBERT TIBA
&
DONALD TERON
Two of my dear Ph.D. Scholars
Devout Christians, Sincere Scholars
Who are no more;
but their contributions to this volume remains
 Contents

Preface 11
Introduction 13
Sajal Nag
1. Christianity and Cultural Changes among
the Lotha Nagas 37
Adani Ngullie
2. Christian Missionaries in the Plains of Barak Valley 49
Amol Sinha
3. Missionaries as Stimulus: Interrogating Political
Mobilization in Colonial North-East India 81
Binayak Dutta
4. The Coming of the Grace of the Christ: The Christian
Baptist Missionaries and the Construction of Hindu
Identity in Assam: c. 1840-1900 97
Bipul Chaudhury
5. Colonialism and Christian Missions in North-East India 109
David Reid Syiemlieh
6. Reading the Open Book: Missionary Print as
Hermeneutical and Material Texts 137
David Vumlallian Zou
7. Christian Missionaries among the Karbis 167
Donald Teron
8. Nationalist Discourse, Christianity and Tribal Religion:
The Tani Tribes of Arunachal Pradesh 185
Jagdish Lal Dawar
8 Contents

9. Straying beyond Conquest and Emancipation:

Exploring the Fault Lines of Missionary Education
in North-East India 197
Hoineilhing Sitlhou
10. Health, a Gift of God at Sanatorium and Missionary
Activities in Madras Presidency 223
B. Eswara Rao
11. Coloniser or Anthropologist?: Locating the Identity
of the Christian Missionary vis-à-vis the Tea Garden
‘Coolie’ in Colonial Assam 245
Anisha Bordoloi
12. Romance of the Wild, the Natural, and the Savage:
Glimpses of Evangelism in North-East India, 1836-1900 273
M. Satish Kumar
13. Welsh Missionaries and the Transformation of
Mizo Women 313
Lalhmingliani Ralte
14. Society, Culture and Conversion: The Jesuit
Madurai Mission in Tamil Nadu, 1650-1700 ce 359
Jangkhomang Guite
15. Introduction of New Literature under the Aegis of
Christian Missions in Mizoram 399
J.V. Hluna
16. Evangelization among the Bodos 417
Luke Daimary
17. Cultural Hegemony, First World War and the German
Salvatorians in North-East India (1890-1915 ce) 431
Meeta Deka
18. Christianity vs Indigeneity: Colonial State,
Mission and Laipianism in Chin Hills 449
Pum Khan Pau
19. American Baptists in Colonial Assam:
The Tale of Oscar Levi Swanson 485
Nabanipa Bhattacharjee
 Contents 9

20. Early Response to Christianity in Mizoram 511

Rohmingmawii
21. Tribulations of the Catholic Mission in Mizoram,
1925-1946 529
Sangkima
22. Colonial State, Christian Missionaries and the Politics
of Persuasion in Early Nineteenth-Century Bengal 543
Santanu Sarkar
23. Sociocultural Re-Invention: A Study of Christianity
in Arunachal Pradesh 559
Sarah Hilaly
24. An Analysis of the American Baptist Missionary
Sources for the Construction of Gender History in
North-East India 569
Shiela Bora
25. Naga Conversions to Christianity in Manipur
in the Twentieth Century 589
Th. R. Tiba
26. Gendered Mission: The Zenana Work of the American
Baptist Mission in Assam (1836-1950) 609
Tejimala Gurung
Contributors 645
 Preface

If there is one ground on which north-east India is differentiated

from the rest of India it is in its religious affiliation. Indeed the
region is mostly Christian. The Mizo, Naga, Khasi, Garo, Jaintia
and many other tribals are Christians. Yet a hundred years back
the same people had pursued their own indigenous faith. How did
this transformation come about? With the advent of colonialism in
the region, arrived Christian missionaries and such transformation
was the result of hard work, patience, empathy and involvement.
The encounter between the tribal and the missionaries of various
denominations who arrived in this ‘wild’ country was quite
civilizational; the acceptance of white men into the core of the
tribal society was slow; the eventual conversion was rather gradual
than abrupt. There are many questions that are raised regarding
the process of such a giant transformation in these societies. To
answer these questions and understand the processes therein, this
volume was planned.
There is precious little available for studying the role and
impact of missionary enterprises in India. Isolated individual
efforts have focused on Bengal, Madras, Punjab and much remains
to be addressed in the context of the unique region of north-east
India. In north-east India for example, by the time the British
left, 90 per cent of the tribals had abandoned their own faith and
adopted Christianity. It was a sociocultural revolution. Yet this
aspect of colonialism has remained outside the scope of history
books. Whatever reading materials available are pro-Christian,
mainly because they are either sponsored by the Church or they
are written by ecclesiastical scholars. Very little secular research
was conducted on hundred years of missionary endeavour in the
region. The interpretations, which have emerged out of the little
12 Preface

material available, are largely simplistic and devoid of complexi­

ties.
This book is an effort to de-centre such explanations by pro­
viding an informed historical and cultural appreciation of the role
and contribution of missionary endeavours in British India.
21 April 2022 Sajal Nag
M. Satish Kumar
 Introduction
SAJAL NAG

The British would like the world to believe that the empire
was acquired in a ‘fit of absentmindedness’ even though the
unfolded facts tell a very different story. But when such an
acquisition procured through ‘absentmindedness’ resulted in
the establishment of an ‘empire’, the colonialist became utterly
confident and ruthlessly ambitious. They wanted now to shape
the empire and transform the people in the colonies according to
their own ideas. This was done by first characterizing the newly-
acquired territories as backward and regressive and by branding its
people as primitive, savage and inimical to progress. Then followed
the unleashing of a ‘civilizational discourse’ and by its means the
white man was unilaterally allotted the responsibility of civilizing
the savages inhabiting the colonies. Among others, the indigenous
faith was specially chosen as the target of attack. People’s faith and
religions were ridiculed and the responsibility of changing their
culture to a higher order was imposed on their own selves. Thus a
number of missionaries of the religions of the ruling classes began
to pour in to extend ‘God’s Kingdom’ to the colonies. Another
project of conquest had thus begun after the territorial acquisition
through ‘absentmindedness’.
The historian Niall Ferguson1 made a distinction between two
important phases of British colonialism, which was the strongest
of all imperial powers. According to him, the British Empire was at
the most amoral in the eighteenth century. But in the next phase it
was no longer enough for them to exploit other races; now the aim
became ‘to improve on them’ using morality as the pretext. It was
a moral responsibility for the colonizers to civilize them according
to Christian standards.
14 Sajal Nag

The Hanoverians had grabbed power in Asia, land in America and

slaves in Africa. Native people were taxed, robbed or wiped out. But
paradoxically their cultures were largely tolerated; in some cases even
studied and admired. The Victorians had more elevated aspirations. They
dreamt of not just of ruling the world, but also of redeeming it. It was no
longer enough for them to exploit other races; now the aim became to
improve on them. Native peoples themselves would cease to be exploited,
but their cultures—superstitious, backward, heathen and so forth—have
to go. In particular the Victorians aspired to bring (what they called) light
to what they called Dark Continent.2

This endeavour to transform and improve upon the natives,

however, was not a government project. It was adopted by what
can be viewed as a voluntary sector. Like all non-governmental
organizations, Victorian missionaries had their own self-pro­
claimed idea that they knew what was best for Africa. Their goal
was not so much colonization as ‘civilization’—introducing a way
of life that was first and foremost Christian, but was also distinctly
north European in its reverence for industry and abstinence.3 This
attitude was embodied in the life and ideas of the explorer David
Livingstone who was confident that though commerce and colo­
nization were necessary, for empire building was not sufficient in
itself. What would make the empire sustainable was to transform
the people in their own images so that the colonized could see
redemption in white rule. That was possible only through con­
version of the natives into Christians in custom and Europeans
in ideas. As Macaulay put it, the time had come to ‘spread over
Africa’s gloomy surface light, liberty and civilization. Spreading
the word of God and thereby saving the souls of the benighted
heathen was a new, not-for-profit rationale for expanding British
influence.’4 Thus began ‘Project Christianization’ of colonies under
the initiative of the voluntary sector.
The Missionary Project, however, was not as autonomous an
enterprise as is often presented by ecclesiastical as well as a por­
tion of secular historical literature. This was a crucial connection,
which has been the topic of an acrimonious debate between secular
and ecclesiastical historians. The organic correlation between the
Empire and Christian missions has to be traced to the beginning
 Introduction 15

of the evangelical movement in England. Total collaboration

between missions and colonialism was the strongest in the case
of Spain and Portugal where the colonial state not only sent out
missionaries but also looked after their protection and sustenance.
In contrast, the English state took help of missionaries only to
legitimize colonial rule. As a result, the missionary endeavour did
not necessarily turn political. Even though the missionary had not
served the colonial power directly, it was only too glad to accept
protection and support from it. Often they tried to justify colonial
rule as ‘Divine Command’.5 The concern for the spiritual progress
of the colonized, referred to as ‘natives’, and the promotion of the
‘ideas of advantages of civilization’ was taken up in the Congo
Conference of European States held in Berlin in 1885. Com­
mencing with the ceremonial invocation of Omnipotent God, the
Conference identified ‘civilization’ with Christianity and ‘savagery,
barbarism and paganism’ with the natives and discussed the neces­
sity of spreading the Gospel amongst them. It was the colonialists’
attempt to cover up their enterprise as a ‘Divine Mission’.6
In England, one of the pioneering attempts to implement this
moral project came from the Clapham Sect. The sect started with
two primary objectives—abolition of the slave trade in the colo­
nies and opening them to Christian missionary enterprise. They
had their first major victory when permission was granted for mis­
sionary enterprise in India in the charter of 1813. Their origins
can be traced back to the Society For the Promotion of Christian
Gospel (1698) and the Society for the Propagation of the Christian
Gospel (1701). But these were almost exclusively concerned with
the spiritual welfare of the British colonists and servicemen posted
overseas.
In 1776, at a time when British Americans were to secede
from their mother country, the Evangelical Magazine in an edito­
rial expressed their desire to send the Gospel of Christ to Africa, ‘a
much-injured country’, ‘that essential blessings [which] outweigh
evils of most suffering life’. Sixteen years later, William Carey, while
preaching, announced great things to happen from God. Shortly
after, he formed the Particular Baptist Society for Propagating the
Gospel amongst the Heathens. This was followed by the formation
16 Sajal Nag

of London Missionary Society that began to accept missionaries

from all non-conformist sects and in 1799 the Anglican Church
Missionary Society declared that its aim, indeed Christian duty,
was to ‘propagate the knowledge of the Gospel among the Hea­
thens’. There were Scottish societies, too, formed in Glasgow and
Edinburgh in 1796.7
The two great objectives of the Clapham Sect were to secure the
abolition of slave trade in the colonies and opening up of India for
the missionary enterprise. Sensing the opposition of the Company
to open India for missionary enterprise Charles Grant produced
a treatise entitled Observation on the State of Society among the
Asiatic Subjects of Great Britain, Particularly with respect to Morals
and Means of Improving It in 1797 and placed it before the court of
directors of which he, himself, was an influential member. Grant’s
objective was to counter the Anti-Church ideas of Thomas Paine
and the Revolutionary principles propagated by France. His ideas
were developed with an eye to the preservation of Empire. ‘Chris­
tianity of the English sort might keep Indians passive just as it
induced contentment in the English lower order.’8 By ‘the English
lower order’, Grant was referring to the tension within the English
working class that was neutralized by evangelical revivalism in the
late eighteenth century. Grant’s plea for the Christian mission in
India was motivated more by political conservatism than any radi­
cal ideology. He was one holding Bishop Horne’s view that English
in Christianity would inculcate ‘in superiors it would be equity
and moderation, courtesy and affability, benignity and condescen­
sion; in inferiors, sincerity and fidelity, respect and diligence. In
princes justice, gentleness and solicitude for the welfare of the
subjects; in subjects loyalty, submission, obedience, quietness,
peace, patience and cheerfulness.’9 Grant was also convinced that
conversion to Christianity would ensure permanence of the raj in
India. More astonishing was his belief that the raj was providen­
tially ordained. At the same time he was aware about the main
objective of the Company—commerce. ‘In every progressive step
of this work we shall also serve the original design with which we
visited India, that design still so important to this country—the
extension of our commerce’.10 Grant was not unconcerned about
 Introduction 17

the Indian ‘natives’, too. The poverty of the Indian people and
their ‘unformed taste’ were considered to be the main hindrances,
which limited the penetration of British manufacturers into
India. Grant was optimistic that Christianity and education—the
two ‘noblest species of conquest’—could remove these obstacles.
Although the British government’s response to the missionaries
was unpredictable, there were others who favoured missionary
intervention. Charles Simpson at Cambridge provided spiritual
leadership. Edward Parry, chairman, and Grant, vice-chairman
of the court of directors, in their letter to the president of the
board of control, argued that the Christianity could be the bond
between India and England. ‘If … they embrace our religion, they
would have a new cause of attachment to us … which would give
us better assurance of their fidelity.’11 With such high officials and
influential members of the parliament behind the cause and the
unfailing support of the Evangelical Party, William Wilberforce,
a member of at least 70 philanthropic organizations in England,
moved the English parliament to secure the opening of India to
missionary enterprises. Wilberforce collected 837 petitions from
different missions in support of his cause. In course of the debate,
Wilberforce argued that ‘the sole justification and strengthening of
British control over India lay in conversion of the Indian people’.
He even appealed to his countrymen to do their best to strike root
into the Indian soil by transplanting their principles, laws, institu­
tions, manners and, above all, religion and morals.12 The support
to the cause came from another unexpected quarter—the free
trade merchants. They contended that Christianity would change
the habits and mores of people, thereby increasing the demand for
British goods. Its Clause XXXII allowed the propagation of Chris­
tianity and unrestricted entry of missionaries for the purpose into
India thenceforth. The Charter of 1813 was a triumph of colonial-
evangelical collaboration.
Just at the time when the British power in India was being
consolidated, the newly-formed missionary societies were begin­
ning to work. This eventually led to the coming of several Chris­
tian missionary societies in India from various countries and the
USA. At the end of the eighteenth century the only missionaries
18 Sajal Nag

in Bengal were the Baptists, who had been able to establish them­
selves under the Danish protection at Serampore. But word of
their achievements spread far and wide in the West, and the years
between 1794 and 1833 were marked by a steady increase of inter­
est in the missionary cause and in willingness on the part of young
people to volunteer for missionary service.13
The Charter Act of 1813 incorporated three significant pro­
visions relating to the position of education and the Church. An
episcopal organization was established, and missionaries of all
faiths were allowed to enter India. The Indian government was
authorized to spend one lakh rupees from surplus revenues for
Indian education.14 Accordingly in 1830 the first missionary sent
by the Church of Scotland, Alexander Duff, came to Calcutta and
threw himself into educational work, on the belief that ‘every
branch of sound general knowledge which you inculcate becomes
the destroyer of some corresponding part in the Hindu system’.15
This ‘general knowledge’ was to be communicated in English and
on that point official policy agreed—in 1835 a protected contro­
versy on the issue of English versus vernacular higher education in
India was resolved in favour of the ‘Anglicists’.
Duff opened a school in Calcutta in 1830. At present, it is called
the Scottish Church College. The school offered Western science
and literature, and also the Christian teachings. His opinion on
matters of education was given great value by the then Govern­
ment of India. He was also engaged in the establishment of the
first Indian universities and the grant-in-aid-system. In India he
was at the forefront of mission thinking. He pioneered the close
relationship between education and mission.16 After this decision
Christianity was developed in colleges and universities of India.
Although the early Protestant missions in Bengal were those of
the Kiernander family in Calcutta 1758-86 and the Moraian Breth­
ern in Serampore 1777-91, the real missionary activity began in
November 1793 with the arrival of William Carey. The East India
Company’s attitude towards the missionaries shifted with political
expediency. Before the establishment of political authority in Ben­
gal the East India Company viewed missionary activity favourably.
But after 1757 in pursuance of their policy of non-interference,
 Introduction 19

the Company was opposed to their endeavour.17 After 1857 the

opposition grew much stronger as it was realized that interference
in the cultural and religious affairs could lead to hostility from the
people. Even though it assumed political power in Bengal after
the Battle of Plassey, it was wary of civil rebellion. Any Christian
missionary work was disfavoured because it was feared that such
attempt would incite intrigues and disturb the political stability.18
Back in the mother country, however, the rising middle class in
England was bursting with ideas of political and social move­
ments. These middle classes wanted to experiment these ideas
and what better laboratory could be there than the virgin fields of
the colonies. The main taproot of all these ideas was, however, the
English liberalist thought.
The material and intellectual elements which composed English lib­
eralism in India were threefold—free trade was its solid foundation,
evangelism provided its programme of social reform, its force of char­
acter and its missionary zeal. And philosophical radicalism gave it an
intellectual basis and supplied it with the science of political economy,
law and government.19
The Revolt of 1857 had little immediate effect on the situation
of Christianity in India. The 1858 Madras Missionary Conference
drew the measure that needed to be brought to bear on the govern­
ment to prevent further outbreaks.
All we require is simple Christian consistency in all their proceedings
which have a bearing on religion, the introduction of the Bible into all
government schools, to be read daily by those of the pupils who do not
object to it; and, especially, the entire cessation of all patronage and coun­
tenance of idolatry and caste.20
In 1857, the East India Company’s rule ended, and the Brit­
ish government’s rule began. The new government proclaimed a
policy of religious impartiality in which Christianity was deprived
of its status as the ‘most favoured religion’. Queen Victoria’s
proclamation of 1858 was ‘firmly relying ourselves on the truth
of Christianity, and acknowledging with gratitude the solace of
religion, we disclaim the right and the desire to impose our con­
victions on any of our subjects’.21
20 Sajal Nag

The Clash of Civilizations

If there was truly any clash of civilization in Indian history, it was
the encounter between Hinduism and Christianity that began
with the advent of Christian missionaries in India. The West had
been there for a long time in India, but there was no confrontation
between the East and West. Similarly, white men were there in
India right from the seventeenth century but it did not lead to any
encounter. The British had assumed political authority in India
from 1757 but it did not bring about any cultural conflicts till then.
But the advent of missionaries actually made the Indians feel the
difference between the two cultures. It was because the Christian
missionaries spelt out the differences between the two cultures and
tried to highlight the superiority of Western civilization while at
the same time establishing the inferiority of Indian religion and
culture that brought about this consciousness. Indians were made
to feel othered by a civilized and superior Europe. Although the
Europeans were already in India from the seventeenth century and
were emerging as a ruling power, Indian were never ‘othered’ in such
a way before this attack launched by the Christian missionaries on
Indian/Hindu religion and culture. This precipitated the encounter
between the East and West—the Orient and the Occident—and the
clash between Hindu and Christian civilizations—simply because
the missionaries wanted it that way. The encounter was thus not ‘a
simple and straight phenomenon’.22
In fact, earlier, Europe and the West was seen as a civilization
based on the proto-democracy of ancient Greece which inspired
the East to build a world where liberalism and rationalism were the
basic foundations. Now Christianity became the prism through
which the West had to be viewed. The new majority of Europeans
who brought Bengal in contact with the European civilization laid
great emphasis on the religious or Christian aspect of their civiliza­
tion. They tried to assert that the reason and knowledge of Europe
was due to its esoteric connection with Christianity. The Indian, by
virtue of being non-Christian, was the proverbial ‘heathen’ who,
therefore, was not entitled to European enlightenment. The mis­
sionaries tried to attract Indians to their religion by a sustained
 Introduction 21

and continuous critique and attack on the Hindu religion, as Hin­

dus were the dominant religious group in India. They ridiculed
the Hindu gods and goddesses, decried Hindu rites and rituals
and denigrated Hindu customs. The missionaries challenged the
very basis of Hinduism and sought to demolish the entire Hindu
religion and philosophy as false. Hindus were seen as primitive,
polytheistic, idol worshipping savages who were also demon
worshippers; practised many mindless rituals; and whose culture
comprised child marriage, female infanticide, bloody sacrifice of
humans and animals, burning of young widows alive, belief in the
caste system, and so on. They had no revealed scriptures and no
prophets to follow.
The missionaries also mocked the philandering ways of
Hindu gods like Krishna who flirted with 1,600 shepherd women,
the fearsome bloodthirstiness of Kali who moved around with a
blood-dripping human head in her hand and the snake-garlanded
tribal Shiva who could destroy the universe. To prove the doctri­
nal superiority of Christianity, they denigrated the Hindu religion
in every way. This caused great anguish to Indians. Not only did
it alienate orthodox Hindus, it actually generated the strongest
opposition from the liberal-minded Hindus who were admirers of
Christianity and the Western civilization. The leader of this group
was none other than Raja Ram Mohun Roy. Roy was the architect
of English and Western education in India and had hailed British
rule as a harbinger of progress and prosperity.
Roy decried the endeavour of the missionaries to prove the
superiority of Christianity by denigrating Hinduism. The weak­
ness of Hinduism would not prove the strength of Christianity,
he said. He asked them to desist from arguing with poor, illiterate
Brahmin pundits about the weaknesses of Hinduism and chal­
lenged them to argue with erudite persons who could engage with
them competently in a debate on the subject.23 In a brilliant satire,
he showed the ludicrousness of the attempt to rationally prove the
central truth of orthodox Christianity in the form of a conversation
between a Christian missionary and his three Chinese disciples.
In 1820, Roy published another pamphlet, entitled The Precepts
of Jesus, the Guide to Peace and Happiness to praise the values of
22 Sajal Nag

Christianity and explain how the missionaries are misinterpret­

ing it while denigrating Hinduism. Roy studied both the Old and
New Testaments before its publication. He even learnt the Greek
and Hebrew languages. Indeed, Ram Mohun Roy was deeply influ­
enced by Christianity and its doctrines even before his encounter
with the missionaries. This was evident in his letter to William
Digby in 1817 wherein he wrote: ‘I have found the doctrines of
Christ more conducive to moral principles and better adapted for
the use of rational beings than any other which have come to my
knowledge.’24 Ram Mohun tried to give a liberal interpretation of
Christianity in his book that was ‘a collection of all the moral and
spiritual precepts of Jesus as recorded in four Gospels without
the narratives of the miracles’. He emphasized that the ethics of
Christianity had a greater appeal than its metaphysics. The ideal of
humanity and the tendency to promote the peace and harmony of
mankind in general to raise them high and the liberal notions of
God were to him the chief characteristics of the Christian religion.
The counter-attack, which amounted to a critique of the
missionary version of Christianity and an inappropriate represen­
tation of a great religion, took the missionaries working in India by
surprise. They were deeply offended. The Serampore Missionaries
took serious offence at his interpretation of Christianity and then
attacked him as ‘heathen’. Roy’s ideas were seen as likely to ‘greatly
injure the cause of truth’.25 Roy received the attacks on him with
his usual calmness and defended his views through successive
publications of Appeals to the Christian Public between 1820 and
1823. He asserted that the moral precepts of Christianity were of
much greater value than its miracles and dogmas propounded by
the missionaries that had only caused harm to the cause of Chris­
tianity. He attributed the failure of the missionaries to convert any
respectable Hindu or Muslim to the ‘introduction of mysterious
dogmas and of relations that at first sight appear incredible’. The
controversy ultimately centered round the Christian doctrine of
‘Trinity’. To Ram Mohun, ‘trinitarianism’ was essentially a polythe­
istic doctrine. Ram Mohun was willing to acknowledge Christ as
‘the redeemer, mediator and intercessor’ with God on behalf of his
followers but he refused to identify Jesus with God. The force of
 Introduction 23

Ram Mohun Roy’s argument was such that some leading mission­
aries like John Clark Marshman lost their cool and did not hesitate
to use inappropriate language against him. But the strength of his
argument was such that one of the Christian missionaries, William
Adam, a Baptist, himself converted to Unitarianism.26 This conver­
sion made the missionaries furious and Adam was attacked as the
‘second fallen Adam’. Peeved by this, Dr Middleton, the Bishop of
Calcutta offered Ram Mohun Roy a ‘great career’ if he converted
to Christianity. Roy refused to be lured by such bribes and rejected
the offer. The infuriated missionaries launched their attack on
Hinduism and its spokesman Ram Mohun Roy with renewed
vigour through their Bengali journal, Samachar Darpan. They
refused to publish Roy’s replies to the attacks, forcing him to start
his own journal called Brahmanical Magazine in Bengali to coun­
ter the missionary attack on the Hindu religion. Roy ridiculed the
missionaries’ attempt to establish the superiority of their religion
though the ‘means of abuse and insult [of Hinduism] or by afford­
ing the hope of worldly gain’. Christianity has its own principles
and doctrines that were lofty anyway. He, with Adam, formed the
Unitarian Committee ‘to remove ignorance, superstition and to
furnish information respecting evidences, duties and doctrines of
the Christ’ that was actually an attempt to reform Christianity itself.
He published another pamphlet called The Precepts of Jesus and
Appeals to the Christian Public. Roy also criticized ‘Trinitarianism’
and Calvinistic doctrines and challenged Christian theologicians
to defend them. Prof. Tytler of Hindu College came forward to
defend orthodox Christianity but Roy’s critique angered him so
much that he also began to use intemperate language. Needless to
say, that it was not Christianity but the method of proselytization
of the missionaries that was being attacked by Ram Mohun Roy.
Roy had remained unaffected in his appreciation of the doctrines
of Christianity as a modern religion. But the doctrine of Unitarian­
ism influenced him so much that he introduced a new faith called
Brahmoism that followed the Christian mode of prayer.
It can be seen that the early encounter between Christianity
and Hinduism in did not result in acceptance and assimilation but
in conflict and repudiation.27 Such conflict and confrontation led
24 Sajal Nag

to something that the missionaries did not intend to do. It gave a

revivalist push to one of the great religions of India—Hinduism.
But not only did it lead to Hindu revivalist movements in India
led by Ramakrishna Paramhamsa and Swami Vivekananda, even
the rebels of the 1857 uprising cited missionary attacks on Indian
religion as one of their major objections.
The early missionaries did provide yeoman service to the
establishment of the language of Bengal as a modern one—giving
it a structure, a grammar and rendering it into a written language,
translating world classics into this language, providing it with a
history and helping it produce a rich literature. Besides language
and literature, the missionaries also made significant contribu­
tions in the field of English education and social reform, and
women’s education. From 1857 onwards, educational institutions,
colleges and universities were also established under the influence
of the Utilitarianism. It is often said that the greatest mission­
ary in Bengal were not the above-mentioned missionaries but
Shakespeare, Milton, Tennyson and such. Missionaries could not
convert any elite Bengali but falling under the literary influence of
Shakespeare, Milton, Tennyson et al. some from the Bengali elite
converted to Christianity which launched the Bengal renaissance
in the nineteenth century.
In north-east India, too, Christian missionaries employed
the same tactic—that of attacking the tribal religion and culture
as forms of savagery. The early missionary texts pertaining to the
tribes are full of pejorative and uncharitable references in terms
defined by the colonial texts in Western parameters. Rev. E.G. Phil­
lips agreed that some of the tribes were ‘bloodthirsty savages’. He
even found them ‘most desperate and incorrigible’. For others like
D.E. Jones, the fact that some tribes ‘detested excessive labour’ and
even ‘laugh too much’ were signs of a lack of civilization. About the
Lushai Hill, they noted:
The inhabitants were regarded by the few Europeans then residing in
Bengal as the fiercest and most barbarous of all the tribes within the
province, notorious for their headhunting expeditions to the neighbour­
ing plains. The object of these raids was to obtain human skulls with the
object to adorn the graves of their ancestors, the belief prevailing that the
 Introduction 25

spirits of the slain would become the slaves of their ancestors in the spirit
world.28

Tribals were often associated with liquor and drunkenness,

which the missionaries detested. The Mizos were said to be ‘lazy,
cruel, superstitious and very prone to drunkenness’29 Thomas
Oldham mentioned about the Khasis that of the bad qualities
‘dissoluteness of manners and drunkenness were the most promi­
nent’.30 Of the Tangkhul Naga, William Pettigrew (1934) wrote
disapprovingly of their addiction of Zu (rice beer).31 In his annual
report, he stated that the Meithei was universally reckoned as
‘liar[s]’ but the Tangkhul Naga could easily beat the former in the
art of lying.32
Another characteristic which the missionaries associated with
tribalism was their marriage institution. They often frowned upon
the sexual openness of the tribals but what they strongly disliked
beside polygamy was the ease with which tribal men abandoned
their wives. In other words, the absence of divorce laws and the
weak institution of marriage itself were associated with tribal life.
The worst feature in the manner of the people and one likely to be a
serious obstacle to the missionary is the laxity of their marriage, indeed
divorce is so frequent that their unions can hardly be honoured with the
name of marriage.33
A missionary representation of tribal animism was sketched
by Moore as: ‘All these hill people are demon worshippers, but
each tribe has its own demons, and its own ceremonies, preserved
in pristine purity, or largely modified by their environment.’34
The missionary attempt at conversion to Christianity actu­
ally involved a multi-pronged attack on tribal society and culture.
First, it branded the tribal life as ‘savage’. Second, it subjected every
aspect of Mizo life—from their nakedness to rituals—to severe
denigration. Even their songs, dances, sexual norms and gender
relationships were singled out for criticism. Third, they were
encouraged to give up their traditions, which they had held dearly
from time immemorial and accept a new faith. An alien human
form was presented as their god in preference to their own Path­
ian, who was neither visible nor imaginable.
26 Sajal Nag

When physical resistance stopped producing results, the Lus­

hais invented another form of resistance. It was planned silently
and first experimented in Phullen village which soon became so
popular a form of resistance that it engulfed the entire Lushai
Hills. The Lushais were conscious that the missionaries abhorred
their dance and songs. Certain traditional songs and dances were
revived and aggressively performed throughout the Mizo Hills by
the tribals. The Mizo culture, which was losing ground, suddenly
saw itself revived. It immediately caught the fancy of the people.
They participated in it with renewed vigour. It was an attempt by
the tribal to fight back and come on top of the new culture that was
being introduced by the combined power of British and the mis­
sionary. Knowing that the missionaries did not like the Mizo way
of song and dance as it involved drinking alcohol, free mingling
of men and women and sexual innuendo, it was performed more
aggressively in front of the missionaries and the recently converted
tribal Christians. This was an attempt to spite the white man and
isolate the converts from the mainstream of tribal community life.
It was part of a cultural revivalist movement of the Mizo popularly
known as the Puma Zai. The missionary endeavour even provoked
two significant uprisings in the region; one was by the Kukis (1917­
19) and the other was the Jadonang-Gaindinlu uprising (1928-34).

Opening up of North-East India

The American Baptists were first invited to Assam by the British
commissioner, Captain Francis Jenkins. This led to the opening of
a station at Sadiya in Upper Assam in 1836. The main objective of
this mission was to find ways of reaching the Shan territories of
Northern Burma and the interior of China. It was not until 1841
that it turned its full attention to the inhabitants of the Brahmaputra
Valley.35 For nearly 23 years the mission had been preaching to the
people of the Assam plains with a notion and belief that a vast
number of people would be accessible to mission work, which
would also be a connecting link between India, Northern Burma
and China. But they found that the people were deeply rooted in
Hinduism. Thus, they turned elsewhere—the frontier tribes.
 Introduction 27

The American Baptist missionaries who worked in north-

eastern India were British nationals but they belonged to the
denomination of the ‘Southern Baptist’, United States of America,
who formed themselves into the Southern Baptist Convention in
1845. A majority of the Baptists in the American South withdrew
support from the Triennial Convention, largely in response to the
decision of the Triennial Convention delegates to ban slaveholders
from becoming ordained missionaries, and formed the Southern
Baptist Convention (SBC).36 Major Jenkins, the then Commis­
sioner of Assam, played an important role in the entry of Baptist
missionaries to Assam, assuring them of protection and personal
assistance. It is found that the administration of these frontier
tribes had not been easy, they made frequent surprise attacks on
the people of the plains. It was believed that Major Jenkins had
invited the Baptist missionaries into Assam with a view to tame
the wild tribes of the frontier and make them loyal subjects.
The first contact with the Nagas was made by Miles Bronson
in 1839. He made a long visit of three weeks to the Namsang Naga
village in the present Tirap district of Arunachal Pradesh. The
inhabitants were unfriendly and any white man was suspected
as a spy for the British. In spite of such initial discouragements,
rigorous language study and other plans for mission works were
started. However, Bronson had to leave the place due to the illness
and the death of his sister and other misfortunes that had fallen
upon him. In fact, the work among the Nagas was interrupted
till the arrival of another American Baptist Missionary, the Rev.
E.W. Clark.37 After the abandonment of the Namsang mission in
1841, the missionaries had contact with Nagas from time to time.
The first Naga Christian was a boy named Hubi who was baptized
by Brown at Sibsagar on 12 September 1847. Though his tribe is
not mentioned, the fact that his home was originally near Jaipur
village suggested that he was either a Namsanghea or Konyak.
Unfortunately he died of cholera within a month of his baptism.
The second Naga convert was Longjanglepzuk of Merangkong vil­
lage, an Ao. He was baptized at Sibsagar in 1851. In the summer
of 1853, he went to his village to find a wife, but he was killed in
the course of a Konyak raid on his village. After this, the mission
28 Sajal Nag

did not undertake systematic work on behalf of the Nagas until

the 1870s. Godhula Brown and E.W. Clark were responsible for
the reopening of Christian work among the Nagas. Clark had
arrived at Sibsagar in 1869 to work among the Assamese. He was
in-charge of the mission and the press at Sibsagar and became
involved in the beginning of the work among tea garden labourers.
During these years he had become interested in the Ao Nagas, who
frequently attended the Sibsagar bazar. When he mentioned his
concern for the Nagas in a meeting of the Sibsagar workers he was
surprised to learn that, Godhula was willing to go and preach to
the Nagas.38 Godhula visited the Ao Naga Hills in 1871. As a result
of the work done by Godhula, the first church was established in
1872 at Dekahamong or Haimong in Ao area. Thus, this became
the foundation and establishment of the first church on Naga soil.
In 1876, Clark established his first mission station at Molungyim­
chen in order to preach the Gospel to the Naga tribes, and many
more came to be converted. But Clark had to move away with his
converts to a new place, to establish a new village solely for the
Christians because of pagan opposition. And the new village came
to be known as Molungyimsen. In 1894, the mission was shifted
again to Impur. This became the centre of the American Baptist
mission work in Nagaland. In the meantime more Baptist mission­
ary families joined the Naga mission and the work spread beyond
the Ao Naga tribe.39 A new mission centre for Naga work had been
opened at Kohima and Wokha. In 1878, C.D. King and his wife
were appointed to open a centre at Kohima for the Angami Nagas.
The third mission centre in Naga Hills was set up at Wokha in 1885
for the Lotha Nagas.40 Although, the American Baptist missionary
entered into the Lotha Naga area in 1885, they could not stay there
for long. After their departure there was no permanent missionary
for the Lothas for many years until the coming of a new mission­
ary couple, Mr and Mrs Howard Huston, in 1949.
It has to be premised in the beginning that political and secu­
rity reasons and not so much evangelism had actuated the local
authorities to invite and welcome the missionaries into the north-
eastern frontier. Since the Diwani of Bengal (1765) the colonial
authorities came across these tribes who were virtually naked,
 Introduction 29

lived by hunting and food gathering and constantly harassed the

plainsmen in the border areas through raids, plunders, kidnapping
and headhunting. They first came across the Garos and the Lus­
hais (Kuki) on the Bengal frontier and then the Nagas, Singphos
and other tribes on the Assam frontier. As the British advanced
into the interiors, more so after the successful beginning of tea
plantation, the harassment of the border people as well as the
white tea planters increased. As the sovereign of the area, it was
the duty of the British to protect their subjects from these bloody
perpetrations. But a number of violent expeditions into the hills
failed to yield any substantial results. Then it was decided to invite
the Christian missionaries to work among these tribes. The idea
was that, once the tribes, who belonged to an unorganized and
uninstitutionalized animist faith, were converted to Christian­
ity; they would not view the white man as hostile foreigners and
would then succumb to peaceful co-existence. It was David Scott,
a civil servant in Assam (1804-31), who first sought the assistance
of the Christian missionaries in humanizing the Garos so as to
prevent their outrages.41 Jenkins also confirmed, ‘To put an end to
their outrages, there could be no other means than a reformation
of their feelings and habits through Christian religion.’42 Although
the ostensible catalyst of the Christian missionary works in hill
areas of north-east was a civilizing mission, the real push was the
‘colonial conquest’ of the hill tribes. This is evident from the fact
that even though the Charter Act of 1813 of the British parliament
removed the restrictions on missionary activities in the colonies,
the East India Company in India was opposed to such activities.
It feared that this form of cultural intervention would disturb the
peace in the colonies and eventually jeopardize the Company’s
colonial interest. Yet the same Company’s government decided to
invite and allow the missionaries to work among the hill tribes
when its military might failed to vanquish the tribes which posed
an incessant threat to its frontiers. The hypothesis was that the
missionaries through evangelizing would ‘civilize’ the ‘savage
tribes’ thereby ‘tame’ these ‘unruly’ elements. Thus even before the
missionaries had any idea of the tribes, the colonialist had formu­
lated that the tribes were ‘savage’ and ‘uncivilized’ and the Western
30 Sajal Nag

Christian influence which was ‘civilized’ would be able to tame

and conquer them culturally.
The missionaries who came to the region therefore already
had preconceived notion that, they were going to work among the
‘savages’, their task was to ‘civilize’ them and the way to do it was
through evangelization. In other words, nakedness, archaic meth­
ods of food gathering, belief in animistic faith, kidnapping, raiding
and ‘headhunting’ were already defined as features of savagery
and uncivilization. Civilization was equalized with Western living
and since the West professed the Christian faith, it was the only
religion of the civilized. The missionaries came with this mindset
of superior civilized people encountering lowborn savages and
evangelization was ordained the white man’s burden which they
had to fulfil. In their acts and behaviour towards the tribal, they
displayed this patronizing attitude. As mentioned before,43 the
early missionary texts pertaining to the tribes are full of pejorative
and uncharitable references in terms defined by the colonial texts
in Western parameters.
Amongst the earliest missionaries to enter the Lushai hills were
F.W. Savidge (Sap Upa) and J.H. Lorrain (Pu Buanga) who came to
Aizawl in 1884, and stayed for a period of four years. When Savidge
and Lorrain came to Aizawl in 1894, they brought with them the
gospel and their medicines through which a lot of people lost their
faith in their superstitious beliefs. When D.E. Jones (Zosaphluia)
came to relieve them on 31 August 1897, Lorrain left in his care the
bungalow they had built and their various missions. While he had
had a little medical training, it was impossible for him to take on
the monumental task of teaching the Lushais alone, and his load
was lightened only with the arrival of Edwin Rowlands (Zosap­
thara) in 1898. By 1900, the two of them expanded their mission,
with the more adventurous Zosapthara taking over the setting up
of schools and the exploration of various villages. However, this
successful partnership ended when Rowlands had to leave in 1908,
after setting up several schools. The first missionary to visit the
Mizo Hills was Rev. W. Williams of the Welsh Calvinistic Church
in 1891. William Williams was a young Presbyterian missionary
in the Khasi and Jaintia Hills which lie several hundred miles to
 Introduction 31

the north of Lushai Hills. Among the Khasis there was already a
very strong church of several thousands. He wanted to establish
such a church among the Lushai and decided to travel south to
visit the country. In early 1891, four months after the Mizos killed
Captain H. Brown and a number of others; William Williams took
an arduous journey to his Lushai Hills and stayed at Aizawl for
a month. Williams found the Lushai Hills to be a potential field
for missionary activities.44 It was due to his persuasion that the
Welsh Presbyterian Assembly decided adopting Lushai Hills as a
mission field. But the sudden death of Williams put the proposal
under a shadow. About two years later, J.H. Lorrain and F.W.
Savidge reached the Lushai Hills as missionaries sponsored by R.
Arthington of Arthington Aborigine Mission, on 11 January 1894.
Messrs Savidge and Lorraine came from Sadia (Assam) to Aizawl
in 1891 with the avowed object of spreading the gospel amongst
an aboriginal people. They failed to do anything in this respect
for the first three years, as the Lushai Hills was still under a rebel­
lion against the British. The Lushais were very suspicious of all
white men. The government also did not look upon their activities
with favour as it felt any interference in tribal culture would incite
further resentment against the British. The Lushai administration
was already finding it very difficult to govern the tribals. While the
administration was uncooperative, there was not much headway
in their proselytization efforts either. The first thing that put the
two missionaries at a disadvantage on their arrival was their igno­
rance. They learnt the Mizo language, reduced the Mizo language
into written form with a simple Roman script and a phonetic spell­
ing, taught a number of Mizos reading and writing, translated the
Gospel of Luke and the Bible into Mizo language and a number of
other books based on the Bible for use in Sunday school. They also
wrote a book, A Grammar and Dictionary of the Lushai Language,
and side by side they worked for the propagation of Christianity.
They preached mainly in the villages of north Mizoram. Messrs
Savidge and Lorraine did their best in popularizing education
among the Lushais. Their mission was at the centre of spreading
education among Lushai boys and girls. It was a kind of a school.
The missionaries went from door to door to apprise the Lushais of
32 Sajal Nag

the necessity of education. At first their centre was at Aizawl, but

later they changed their site to nearby Saipuia’s old village. They
were very popular among the Lushais and their services greatly
helped in the spread of education in the Lushai Hills and also the
development of the Lushai language.
The two missionaries worked independently from 1894 but
were called upon to move to Sadiya to work among the Karbis and
Abors in Assam. As a result they had to quit Mizo Hills leaving their
work to Rev. D.E. Jones, a Welsh missionary who arrived at Aizawl
upon their departure on 31 August 31 1897. It also paved the way
for the entry of a large number of missions of various denomina­
tions. Messrs Savidge and Lorraine had to leave the Lushai Hills
under these circumstances in 1897. But they came back again and
concentrated their energies on other philanthropic activities. They
assisted the poor and oppressed hillmen and brought them before
the authorities for redress. They helped the Lushais with medi­
cine and books. Their hard labour and loving care made a lasting
impression upon the minds of the Lushais. For long the Lushais
had looked upon the sahibs in awe for their martial prowess. But
now they came in close touch with that dedicated couple and
began to realize the virtues and kindness of the British people. The
missionaries of Welsh Mission followed them. They started their
work from Aizawl and Lungleh. Members of the Welsh Mission
did their best in their capacities to improve the lot of the Lushai
people. They were more interested in charitable works than prose­
lytizing. They were practical missionaries who realized that the
time was not ripe for conversion. The Lushais were divided into
so many clans and each clan had its separate language or dialect.
But the dialect Dulien or Lushai was the lingua franca among the
majority of the clans. But the Lushais never attempted to codify
the rules of language. The missionaries of the Welsh Mission did
this in 1897-8 by compiling a Lushai primer. This was so simple
that a boy of ordinary intelligence could read fairly well after a
fortnight’s instruction, and in a month could write an intelligent
letter. But the Lushai primer compiled by the Welsh Mission
used the method of transliteration adopted by Messrs Savidge
 Introduction 33

and Lorraine in giving a written shape to the Lushai language.

Messrs Savidge and Lorraine, on the other hand, were indebted
to the writings of Captain Lewin. Lewin came in conflict with the
Government of Bengal and gave up his lucrative job and dedicated
his whole life to work among the Lushais. He wrote books on the
Lushais to draw the attention of the philanthropic people in the
West. It was he who first compiled a small dictionary of Lushai
words. We have already mentioned that the Welsh Presbyterian
Mission came to Lushai Hills under the leadership of Rev. D.E.
Jones and Rev. E. Rowlands. The Welsh Mission established pri­
mary schools attached to the church at Aizawl and Lungleh. After
the missionaries had prepared the ground the Lushai administra­
tion established three schools for education of the Lushai children
in 1896-7 at Aizawl, Lungleh and Demagiri. But the standard of
teaching was always higher in the Welsh Mission School at Aizawl.
The students were taught Lushai in the English character. The stu­
dents of the age group 8-12 years were higher in the roll strength of
the school register than the age group 13-18 years. These schools
disseminated knowledge to young and impressionable minds. The
London Baptist Mission Society set foot in south Mizoram in 1903.
The Lakher Pioneer Mission originated in Mizoram itself in 1907
under Reginald A. Lorrain. Later the organization was renamed
as the Lakher Independent Evangelical Church. This private mis­
sion continued up to 1925. Very soon Messrs Savidge and Lorraine
were joined by the latter’s brother and his wife in their enterprise.
The Lushai gradually found their presence reassuring as they pro­
vided invaluable medical and humanitarian services. But as far
as conversion to Christianity was concerned there was little to be
optimistic. The first conversion took place on 26 June 1899, under
the Welsh Presbyterian Mission when two men, named Khuma
and Khara, were formally baptized. But since then progress was
again insignificant. By the time of Independence in India, half
the population of tribal north-east India had converted to various
denominations of Christianity. However, it has to be said the com­
pletion of conversion of these tribals into Christianity took place
in India after the leadership of the churches were taken over by the
34 Sajal Nag

tribals, themselves, with the departure of the white missionary. A

social revolution that was started by the European missionaries
was completed by the indigenous people, themselves.

Notes
1. Niall Ferguson, The Mission: How Britain Made the Modern World,
Penguin Books, Victoria, 2008, pp. 113-61.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid.
5. Andrew Porter, Religion versus Empire: British Protestant
Missionaries and Overseas Expansion 1700-1914, Manchester
University Press, Manchester and New York, 2004; Gerald Studdert-
Kennedy, Providence and the Raj: Imperial Mission and Missionary
Imperialism, Sage London, 1998; Stephen Neil, Colonialism and
Christian Missions, McGraw-Hill Book Company, New York, 1966,
p. 414; and passim for the debate; Laldena, Christian Missions and
Colonialism: A Study of Missionary Movement in North East India
with Particular Reference of Manipur and Lushai Hills 1894-1947,
Vandrame Institute, Shillong, 1988, p. 4.
6. Laldena, Christian Missions and Colonialism: A Study of Missionary
Movement in North East India with Particular Reference of Manipur
and Lushai Hills 1894-1947, Vandrame Institute, Shillong, 1988,
pp. 6-7.
7. Ferguson, op. cit., pp. 113-61.
8. Francis G. Hutchinson, The Illusion of Permanence: British Im­
perialism in India, Princeton University Press, Princeton, 1967, p. 3.
9. Ibid.
10. Eric Stokes, The English Utilitarian and India, Oxford, Delhi, 1989,
p. 34.
11. E. Daniel Potts, British Baptist Missionaries in India 1837: The History
of Serampore and Its Missions, Cambridge, 1967, pp. 174-95.
12. Eric Stokes, The English Utilitarian and India, Oxford, Delhi, 1989,
p. 35.
13. Stephen Neill, A History of Christianity in India, 1707-1858,
Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 1985, p. 549.
14. J.V. Hluna, Education and Missionaries in Mizoram, Spectrum,
Guwahati, p. 38.
 Introduction 35

15. Robert D. Baird, Religion in Modern India, Manohar, New Delhi,

1995 (3rd revd. edn), p. 227.
16. S.D.B. Vad Kumpadan Paul, Missionaries of Christ: A Basic Course in
Missiology, Vendrame Institute, Shillong, 2006, p. 54.
17. Nimai Sadhan Bose, Indian Awakening and Bengal, Firma KLM,
Calcutta, 1960. Reprinted 1990, p. 20.
18. Arthur Mayhew, Christianity and the Government of India: An
Examination of the Christian Forces at Work in the Administration
of India and of the Mutual Relations of the British Government
and Christian Missions, 1600-1920, Faber & Gwyer, London, 1929,
p. 50.
19. Eric Stokes, op cit., p. xiv.
20. Robert D. Baird, Religion in Modern India, Manohar, New Delhi,
1995 (3rd revd. edn), p. 228.
21. Ibid.
22. Atul Chandra Gupta, ‘Introduction’ to Atul Chandra Gupta (ed.),
Studies in Bengal Renaissance, National Council of Education,
Bengal, Calcutta, 1958, revd. edn 1977, pp. xi-xii.
23. Ram Mohun Roy in an essay in the Brahmans Sevadhi (1821) cited in
Atul Chandra Gupta (ed.), ibid.
24. Nimai Sadhan Bose, op. cit., p. 38.
25. Ibid.
26. Ibid., p. 39.
27. Atul Chandra Gupta, ‘Introduction’ to Atul Chandra Gupta (ed.), op.
cit., pp. xi-xii.
28. J.M. Morris, The Story of Our Foreign Mission, Presbyterian Church
of Wales, Liverpool, Hugh Evans & Sons, Liverpool, 1930, p. 77.
29. J. Lloyd, On Every High Hill, Presbyterian Church of Wales, Liverpool,
Hugh Evans & Sons, Liverpool, 1930, p. 24.
30. T. Oldham, Calcutta Review, vol. XXVII, September 1856, p. 79.
31. W. Pettigrew, Forty Years in Manipur, Assam: An Account of the
Works of Rev. and Mrs. William Pettigrew (1934), Reprinted by J.M.
Solo and K. Mahangthei, Christian Literature Centre, Imphal, 1986.
32. Lal Dena, op. cit., p. 35.
33. Lieut. H. Yule, ‘Notes on the Khasi Hills and People’. Journal of
Asiatic Society of Bengal, vol. XII, pt. II, July-Dec. 1894, p. 612.
34. P.H. Moore, ‘Need of a Native Ministry’ in Papers and Discussions
of Jubilee Conference of the American Baptist Missionary Union
held in Nowgong, 18-29 December 1886, Guwahati, Reprinted in
Spectrum, Guwhati, 1992, p. 13.
36 Sajal Nag

35. C.B. Firth, An Introduction to Indian Church History, ISPCK, Pune,

1985, p. 267.
36. American Baptist Churches—USA, Extract from Wikipedia, the free
Encyclopedia.
37. Angelina Lotsuro, The Nagas: A Missionary Challenge, Vendrame
Institute Publications, Shillong, 2000, p. 45.
38. F.S. Downs, The Mighty Works of God: A Brief History of the Council
of Baptist Churches in North East India: The Mission Period 1836­
1950, Christian Literature Centre, Guwahati, 1971, pp. 63-4.
39. Angelina Lotsuro, op. cit., p. 45.
40. F.S. Downs, op. cit., p. 67.
41. H.K. Barpujari, The American Baptists Missionaries and North East
India, 1836-1900: A Documentary Study, Spectrum, Guwahati, 1986,
p. xiii.
42. Ibid., pp. xiii-xx.
43. Morris, op cit., p. 77.
44. Revd V.L. Zaithang, From Headhunting to Soul Hunting, Synod
Publications, Aizawl, 1981, pp. 11-16.
 CHAPTER 1

Christianity and Cultural Changes

among the Lotha Nagas
ADANI NGULLIE

The work of Christian missionaries has brought several changes in

Naga society over the years. As is widely known, the Lotha Nagas
were isolated from the rest of the country. They lived a simple
village life and had kept their traditional social customs and culture
essentially unchanged. However, with the coming of Christianity
and with the imposition of the alien British administration,
a change began to take place. This essay analyses some of the
important changes that took place in Lotha Naga society. The
study will have two sections.
The missionaries were not ready to adjust with other frame­
works of social, cultural and religious behaviour. That is why they
insisted, from the very beginning, to substitute the old Naga culture
and social values for those of their own. To quote R.R. Shimray:
One of the most colorful ingredients of the Naga village states was its
community life. The Naga individual knew no other life, except com­
munity life. They work in groups, eat in groups and sleep in groups. There
was neither individual cultivation, nor harvest, neither individual house
building, no feast of merit by the individual alone.… The individual has
no existence apart from the community.1

The people led a simple and contented life as their wants were
limited. The community life was full of joy, which they shared
together. The spread of Christianity and imposition of new culture
badly affected ancient Naga social, religious and cultural values.
The missionaries asked or rather forced the Nagas to do away
38 Adani Ngullie

with all the traditional cultural values, because these cultural

values were considered ‘heathen’ practices and ‘unchristian’. The
missionaries insisted that the new converts must not participate in
a feast and further prohibited them to take part in any traditional
festivals and ceremonies. Clark wrote:
May 7, 1888: At a called church meeting the case of Idisungba and oth­
ers who had participated in a feast at the house of Idisungba’s son was
called and inquired into. January 4, 1890: There was a convent meeting
and Sunday January 5 the Lord’s Supper was celebrated. Also, Kumzuk
was suspended for killing animals in sacrifices during his wife’s sickness.
March 1 and 2, 1891: There was a covenant meeting on evening of Satur­
day, March 1. And a committee was appointed to ascertain if any church
members had participated in a religious feast at Kimazungba’s house
because of his illness. Those who have participated confessed and asked
forgiveness, the church had suspended [them] from church membership
and [they were] was restored to membership on confession.2

That was how the missionaries made strict laws to govern the new
Naga converts, and how they forced the early converts to abstain
from participating in feast and traditional practices.
The British officials tried to preserve some of the important
customs of the Nagas, but in strong contrast has been the attitude
of the American Baptist Mission. This statement is supported by
J.P. Mills’ views:
Realizing that on the preservation of customs developed exactly to
fit the environment and tested by centuries of use depends the whole
fabric of tribal society, the government has to ensure that such change
as must inevitably come shall not be destructive in its suddenness. In
strong contrast has been the attitude of the American Baptist Mission.
As religion plays a part in every Naga ceremony and as that religion is
not Christianity every ceremony must go. Such ceremonies, as the great
Feasts of Merit, at which the religious aspect is far less important than the
social, have not been remodelled on Christian lines, but have been utterly
abolished among converts.3

The spread of Christianity and imposition of new civilization

badly affected ancient Nagas’ social, religious and cultural val­
ues. The Nagas were asked or rather forced by the missionaries
 Christianity and Cultural Changes 39

to do away with all their traditional cultural values. Verrier Elwin

remarked: ‘The activities of the Baptist Mission among the Nagas
have demoralized the people, destroying tribal solidarity and
forbidden the joys and feasting, the decoration and romance of
communal life.’4 J.P. Mills further remarked:
Of the material arts in these hills wood carving is the chief. It is dis­
played on the houses of those who have given the great feasts of merit,
on the ‘morung’ posts of the Aos, Konyaks and Lothas, and on the big
xylophones of the Aos. This is doomed to extinction as the power of
the mission increases. Feasts of merit are forbidden among them, and
no attempt is made to induce rich Christians to decorate their houses in
the old way. No Christian boy is allowed to go through his time in the
‘morung’ and they are not built any more in Christian villages. In such
villages, too, the old xylophones can be seen rotting in the jungle. The
suppression of the ‘morung’, in which young animists learn to be useful
citizens, is unwarranted by any good reason that I have heard. It is a part
of the tendency to abolish old things just because they are old, and sub­
stitute for the strong communal feelings that enabled the tribes to survive
for so long an individualism that is really foreign to them. Not only is this
individualism wrapped up with strong emphasis on personal salvation;
it is also the direct and natural reaction against the destruction of all the
old things that mattered in village life and all the old expressions of the
artistic and social genius of the tribe. An animist puts his village before
himself. A Baptist puts himself before his village. A ‘civilized’ Naga is apt
to call customary discipline restraint, and many of them are eager to leave
their villages and live free of all control.5

The American Baptist missionaries infused into their under­

standing of Christian values acquired from their upbringing in the
southern Baptist states of America, values that clashed very strik­
ingly with Naga culture and traditions. They saw the Naga way
of life from their own Western perspective as culturally inferior,
intellectually backward and religiously superstitious. Thus, with­
out in-depth understanding of the Naga culture, the missionaries
put a stop to several Naga cultures which they considered as hea­
then practices and unchristian. Mr Yanarao, church member of
the First Lotha Baptist, narrated that in the newly converted Chris­
tian Okotso village, the Christian missionaries ordered the new
40 Adani Ngullie

converts to collect all their war regalia, ancient weapons, orna­

ments, etc., and then had them consigned to a bonfire. It was
believed that, this led to the complete loss of cultural values in that
newly converted Christian village. The Baptist missionaries, in
general, preached strict Christian teachings and the environment
in which they were brought up in their native places to some extent
affected the teachings. They were not willing to allow certain cus­
toms to remain.6 Clark insisted his tiny congregation of 15 Naga
followers to observe Sunday as a day of rest; this directly interfered
with the rhythm and routine of Naga village life. Any interference
with that rhythm undermined a village’s economic functioning,
not to mention its ritual solidarity.
Thus, when the Baptist missionaries came face to face with
the Nagas, the two already conditioned by their own cultural
backgrounds, could not compromise in many fields. One of
the important things the Nagas could not compromise on was
the drinking of rice beer, which was central to their traditional
feasts. Although the government and the mission agreed concern­
ing education and respecting some areas of Naga culture, they
clashed over how much should be preserved, altered or abolished
outright. Interested primarily in maintaining peace and security,
the government aimed to interfere with native customs as little as
possible. However the missionaries felt differently.7 J.P. Mills in his
report mentioned that
to any one who, unable to reject some of the most hallowed passages in
scripture, regards fermented liquor in moderation as not only harmless
but beneficial, the strong prohibition policy of the mission cannot
but seem a grave mistake. Few of its advocates attempt to justify it
from scripture. They use the arguments that brought the Volstead Act
into being. Such an abstention from fermented drink became among
converts that teetotalism is often regarded as the outstanding mark of a
Christian.8

In fact, the neophytes developed such obsession that soku­

eyui (literally drinkers) came to be popularly associated with
non-Christians and the new Lotha Naga converts regarded the
non-Christians as soku-eyui meaning drinkers.
 Christianity and Cultural Changes 41

One basic Naga institution discouraged by the Baptist mis­

sionaries presumably because of their associations with their
old beliefs were the feasts of merit. As mentioned earlier, great
quantities of food supplies were expended during these feasts of
merit and they occasioned much drinking and merrymaking.
Economically, too, they were important since they permitted an
equitable distribution of perishable food supplies that, without
adequate means of preservation, would otherwise get spoiled. J.P.
Mills went on to say that:
Such ceremonies as the great feasts of merit, at which the whole village,
rich and poor alike, is entertained, and of which the religious aspect is far
less important than social, have not been remodeled on Christian lines,
but have been utterly abolished among converts. The suppression among
Baptists of the ancient feasts in which all joined is not only a loss to the
would-be hosts, but to the village as whole, and not least the poor, who
always get their full share of good cheer at animist festivals. To abolish
these feasts is to do away with the very few occasions on which the awful
monotony of life is broken. They are, too, the natural Naga way of distrib­
uting wealth. I have heard a Baptist teacher boast that his granaries were
so full of the store of years that some of the grain was black with age. Had
he been an animist that grain would not have been left to rot uselessly but
would have been eaten by his fellow villagers.9

The converts slowly become estranged from their kinsfolk.

They were prohibited by their religion (Christianity) from taking
part in the ritual practices and ceremonies that were associated
with the worship of spirits.10
During the big religious ceremonies and feasts, singing and
dancing were indulged in with full dress worn. To quote J.P. Mills:
These have been entirely suppressed among the Ao, Lotha and Sema
Christians, the men of whom wear no ornaments at all, having stripped
their beads from the necks, their ivory armlets from their arms and even
the cotton wool from their ears. The women are more conservative and
still often wear their beads, though I doubt if a girl would actually wear
her ornaments at a mission school.11

From the various evidences it was found that, the missionaries

insisted the replacement of traditional dress with Western dress or
42 Adani Ngullie

Assamese dress. The early converts had to wear Assamese clothes

and later converts wore European attire. This view was clearly
supported by the report of Dr Clark:
The missionaries wished the Christians to opt the Assamese dhoti cloth
and coats for the men, and sarris for the girls and women. They liked
the idea but said they were not ready to act on it yet. That year we gave
each school boy a dhoti cloth, and insisted he wear it in school, but the
moment school was out, off would come the dhoti cloth to be dragged
down the village street to the boy’s home.12

Ms Monsali Lotha who did her schooling at Jorhat Mission School

narrated, ‘The missionaries insisted that all the girls studying in
the mission schools must wear sari. In other words it was made
mandatory for all of us to wear Assamese clothes. Using of
traditional dress was not encouraged in the schools.’13 Christian
women adopted the use of saris, blouses and petticoats, while men
began to wear pants and shirts.
J.P. Mills rightly remarked that
the suppression of the wearing of all ornaments or tribal finery, of danc­
ing, of singing (except hymns), of village feasts and of all artistic outlet
is spreading an unspeakable drabness over village life. Old songs and old
traditions are being rapidly forgotten. Told year in and year out that the
past histories, all the strivings, all the old customs of his tribe are wholly
evil the Naga comes to despise his own race, and no night of the soul is
blacker than that.14

One significant change that took place among Christian boys

and girls who attended the Christian mission schools were that
they gradually stopped using their own traditional attires and
subsequently replaced it by eastern dresses. The European style of
haircut was made mandatory for the boys. J.P. Mills had observed
that, ‘foreign dress is spreading slowly, but steadily. For this the
blame must fall both on certain departments of government, who
allow their employees to wear it, and on missionaries whose active
encouragement amounted to connivance.’15 He found that a Naga
with
education and a smattering of superficial knowledge considered himself
 Christianity and Cultural Changes 43

entitled to possess a pair of shorts, while a suit complete with a watch

chain and Trilby hat almost corresponds to a doctor’s robes. The cus­
tom is bad from every view. It entails waste of money where money is
hard to find. It encourages dirt, since no Naga can afford the changes [of
clothes] he ought to have in the damp heat of Assam. It spreads disease
in two main ways. Adults become more liable to chills and phthiriasis
since they do not change their wet clothes, and children who are carried
against the wet ‘shirt’ instead of against their mothers’ warm backs suffer
as result. From the artistic point of view it is especially and utterly to be
condemned. To substitute soiled and poor quality Western clothes, or
more often a caricature of them, for the exceedingly picturesque Naga
dress is an aesthetic crime. More of the body is covered up, but I have yet
to find that this leads to stricter morality.16

The Nagas simply copied the Western form of worship, way of

life, living, dress, etc. Practically, the Christian missionaries called
for total cultural transformation.
One important finding of the study is that some Naga girls
who spent sometime in the mission schools upon returning to
their native villages refused to demean themselves by working in
the fields and gradually started to show aversion towards their own
cultures, values, attires, etc. This led to the decay and eventual dis­
appearance of several Naga cultures and traditions. Some young
Nagas in schools took life very easy; they regarded education as
something that was going to make him outstanding in life without
even working hard. To quote J.P. Mills:
Very rarely indeed does a Naga regard education as something which is
going to make him more fitted for his ordinary life; he regards it as some­
thing which will fit him for a very different life, and he expects that life to
be offered to him in the form of a government post—aptly described to
me once as ‘sitting-and-eating job’. When the boys apply to me for schol­
arship my custom is to ask them what they intend to do when they have
finished their education, and they reply almost invariably is ‘I hope the
government will find me job’. The result is half-hearted youths, unwill­
ing to go back to the village life of their fathers and looking in vain for
employment which they consider suitable to their talents.17

Without doubt we may say that the work culture which was
once the hallmark of the ancient Nagas was finally found to lose
44 Adani Ngullie

its importance with the introduction of education and subsequent

spread of Christianity in Naga Hills.
The impact of Christianity was not seen only in the changed
cultural and social values, but it was seen in the material culture,
too. It was seen in personal cleanliness—the houses were more
hygienic with a better atmosphere all round. It cannot be denied
that, the new converts became cleaner, more hygienic and had a
better lifestyle. We find a number of references made by Christian
missionaries particularly on cleanliness and better lifestyles. S.A.
Perrine stated:

The Christians keep their person and homes and food comparatively
clean, perhaps I should say, cleaner than the heathen. They do not eat
rotten flesh, and the money they once spent for drink, opium and false
worship is making them prosperous. They have adopted a mode of burial
and more decent dress than the heathen. They are becoming more con­
scientious in the relation of the sexes. The power of an endless life seen in
the lives of these rude and imperfect Nagas is making a large impression
on the tribe.18

In pre-colonial Lotha Naga society, they buried the dead

near their houses. In some villages children were buried inside
the house near the main entrance. As for the Ao Nagas the burial
system was very different from the Lothas. They did not bury the
dead bodies but kept them on a raised split bamboo platform and
let them rot away. Mr Yanarao said:
When we were studying at Impur Mission School we used to pass through
Ungama village (one of the biggest village in Ao area). Near the village
footpath, dead bodies were laid on a raised split bamboo platform, and
the rotten flesh was dripping from the corpse. The smell was just horrible;
the worst thing was that, the village pigs were seen enjoying as it was for
them a great treat or feast. After seeing this, I stopped taking pork for
many years.19

The missionaries emphasized upon hygienic living and bet­

ter living style. At the First Association held in Naga Hills, S.A.
Perrine explained; ‘burial of the dead was thoroughly discussed
and during the meeting Pitor, the new little boy, died and after
 Christianity and Cultural Changes 45

much talk was buried underground at Molung, the first Ao to be

buried’.20 Gradually, the new converts started to adopt the burial
system. The Christian community made a village cemetery. Both
young and old were buried in the village cemetery.
The ancient Naga houses were poorly ventilated, there were no
chimney, and so the houses were filled with smoke. The domesti­
cated animals moved freely among the human beings. However,
a definite change was noticed here. This change towards healthier
houses with air circulation, ventilation and proper lighting could
be explained as a manifestation of Christian influence. This new
innovation was no doubt adopted through the gradual spread of
skill in carpentry and the Christian way of life. It was easily seen
that, the very concept of housing and living changed on account of
the influence of Christian missionaries. For the first time, not util­
ity alone but beauty too became the criterion of a house. Windows
made more light and air possible to come into a room. The Chris­
tian houses stood distinct from the other houses in the village; they
were neater and better in appearance. The Christian influence was
also visible in the equipment that furnished the houses. Houses of
Christians were better equipped than those of others.21 For this,
J.P. Mills critically stated:
Nagas who have taken wholeheartedly to foreign customs often build
houses resembling the worst type of ‘shack’. A Naga house as all fittingly
built should seems to have grown out the landscape. The corrugated iron
roofs of the ‘foreign’ houses are blots upon it. They are expensive and
stuffy. The fashion has been encouraged, I fear, by the Baptist chapels,
which as artistic productions are execrable, and widely spread as they
are, tend to kill the Nagas’ unconscious but innate sense of architectural
fitness. The new model of houses, which were both higher and healthier,
replaced the old type of houses.22

The house and its surroundings were kept clean and a separate
shelter for animals was maintained. The stress on cleanliness both
at the personal and community levels had considerable impact
on traditional taboos. The people gradually realized that human
beings are more important than observing taboos and started
adopting an entirely new way of life. It was further observed
46 Adani Ngullie

that, the Christians were cleaner and healthier than the non­
Christians.23
Thus, by studying the various aspects of Lotha Naga society
before and after the arrival of the missionaries, it is possible to infer
that missionary influence contributed a major share of the changes
and development therein. There were many facets of Naga society
and culture where changes and a new outlook can be attributed
directly to the missionaries.

Notes
1. R.R. Shimray, Origin and Cultures of Nagas, Somson Publications,
New Delhi, p. 121.
2. Original Note written by Dr Clark (1888).
3. Mills, ‘Remarks in the Census Report on the Naga Tribes’, Baptist
Missionary Review, September 1941, vol. XIVII, no. 9, p. 350.
4. Chandrika Singh, The Naga Society, Manas Publications, New Delhi,
2008, pp. 115-16.
5. Mills, op. cit., p. 351.
6. Clark, op. cit., p. 17.
7. Th. R. Tiba, Conversion of the Maram Nagas to Christianity: 1949­
2006, p. 7.
8. Mills, op. cit., p. 350.
9. Ibid.
10. J. Troisi, ‘Christianity among the Santals’, in S.M. Channa (ed.),
The Christian Mission, Christianity and Tribal Religion, Cosmo
Publications, New Delhi, 2012, p. 192.
11. J.P. Mills, op. cit., p. 350.
12. A Letter Relating to 1st Association held in Naga Hills, 12-14 March
1899, p. 25.
13. Interview with Mrs. Monsali Lotha, 9 September 2009.
14. Mills, op. cit., p. 351.
15. Ibid., p. 349.
16. Ibid.
17. Ibid., p. 345.
18. A report of S.A. Perrine in The Assam Mission of the American Baptist
Missionary Union. Minutes, Resolutions and Historical reports of the
Fifth Triennial Conference (1899), Calcutta, Baptist Mission Press,
1899.
 Christianity and Cultural Changes 47

19. Interview with Mr. Yanarao Ngullie, retired government teacher,

Okotso, Nagaland, 9 December 2008.
20. ‘A Letter Relating’, op. cit., p. 24.
21. Nalini Natarajan, op. cit., pp. 306-7.
22. Mills, op. cit., p. 349.
23. F.S. Downs, ‘Faith & Life Style: How Christianity was Understood by
19th Century Converts in North East India’, Bangalore Theological
Forum, vol. XIV, no. 1, January 1982, pp. 20-43.
 CHAPTER 2

Christian Missionaries in
the Plains of Barak Valley
AMOL SINHA

It is interesting that the Christian missionaries who had come

to north-east India had actually arrived with the objective of
converting the plains people and not the hill tribes. While they
faced abject failure in the plains, they, on the other hand, had
a massive success in converting the hill tribes. The American
Baptists first arrived in the plains of Brahmaputra Valley from
where they moved into the Naga Hills to compensate for the failure
they faced in the plains. Another plain in north-east India that the
Christian missionaries ventured to was the Barak Valley plain. In
these plains it was the Welsh Presbyterian missionaries who came
to Christianize the plainsmen but experienced similar failure. But
when they moved to the Lushai Hills, they tasted massive success,
converting almost 85 per cent of the Lushai (Mizo) tribals. The
present essay discusses the endeavours and experiences of the
Welsh Presbyterian missionaries in the plains of Barak Valley in
some detail.

The Advent of the Welsh Presbyterian

Missionaries in Barak Valley
In 1851 the first Welsh Presbyterian Missionary Rev. William
Pryse arrived in the valley to visit the princely state of Manipur
with an intention to undertake Christian missionary work
there. But he returned back from Jiribam, the entry point to
50 Amol Sinha

Manipur from Cachar side and settled down in nearby Silchar for
expanding his work. He stayed in Silchar, the capital town, for a
few years and in 1856, decided to open a school there. This was
the beginning of missionary operations in the Cachar district of
Barak Valley. In 1863, he also opened a high school in Silchar, with
the enrolment of 150 pupils. During this time Captain Stewart was
the government agent in Cachar district and gave full support to
the work of Pryse. From 1861 to 1866, William Pryse visited many
places in this valley and extended his mission as far as North and
South Cachar Hills. But unfortunately the general assembly in July
1867 unexpectedly terminated William Pryse from his missionary
work, because he had no connection with the mission. Due to the
shortage of persons to serve as missionaries in Sylhet, the general
director’s meeting held in December 1872 resolved to discontinue
the work in the plains. After 15 years of abandonment, the general
assembly of Aberdare held on 13-15 July 1885, decided to resume
missionary operations in the plains without delay. Rev. and Mrs J.
Pengwern Jones and Miss Sarah A. John were sent and they arrived
in Sylhet on 28 November 1887. In 1892, mission work in Sylhet
was started by the missionaries, Rev. and Mrs J. Pengwern Jones,
Rev. Dr T.J. Jones, Miss Elizabeth Williams and Miss Brownlow.
They were assisted by Miss S. Das and Daniel Ghose, who were
evangelists. On 15 December 1892, two lady missionaries, Miss
Laura Evans and Elizabeth A. Roberts, also arrived in Sylhet. Thus
the Welsh Presbyterian missionaries opened their second mission
field in the Sylhet and Cachar plains.
The Sylhet Mission Station had already been set up by William
Pryse and his wife in 1851. He began his missionary operation in
the plains on somewhat similar lines to those followed in the Hills.
The first four converts, who were baptized in May 1852, were Gour
Mohan, Baburam, Bishonath and his mother, Sibi. Pryse adopted
various methods to carry on the mission work like public debates
between him and the Mohammedan maulvis and Hindu gurus.
Essays with questions and answers were circulated and prizes
provided by the European sympathizers in Sylhet. Pryse had also
established an orphanage at Sylhet.
 Christian Missionaries in the Plains of Barak Valley 51

A New Station in Silchar

The second Mission station in the plains was opened in Silchar, the
chief town of Cachar district, Assam in 1893 by Rev. Dr T.J. Jones,
Miss Laura Evans and Miss Elizabeth Williams. They opened it after
a number of missionaries visited Cachar and on their report the
district committee unanimously agreed to recommend directors
to establish a new station in Silchar.1 Before they left Sylhet in the
later part of May 1892, Rev. Pengwern recommended the opening
of another mission station in Sylhet district. Rev. T.J. Jones wanted
to include Cachar in this circle of possibilities, especially as
William Pryse had previously done some pioneering work there.2
For choosing the best place to establish a new station, a committee
consisting of Dr T.J. Jones, Mrs Williams, E.A. Roberts, Miss Laura
Evans and Daniel Ghose, the Bengali evangelist, was appointed.
They left Sylhet on 29 January 1893, and visited many places like
Maulvi Bazaar, Hubiganj, Balaganj, Karimganj. At last, they came
to Silchar and stayed for a week. They sold 600 scriptures and also
preached the word of God in the market and at a mela being held
in Silchar.
Towards the end of 1892 and the beginning of 1893, three
Indian aborigine missionaries, namely Rev. J.H. Lorrain, Rev. F.W.
Savidge and Rev. William Pettigrew, were in Silchar. They actually
came to Silchar not for establishing a missionary centre there but
for permission to enter Lushai Hills and Manipur. They requested
the Welsh missionaries to stay with them. These missionaries con­
vinced them that they were in Silchar only for a short period, ‘We
get our wages for working amongst the hill and mountain tribes’.3
They also informed them that they would welcome the Welsh
missionaries to come to work in Silchar. They were with the mis­
sionaries till the end of the year 1893 when Messrs Savidge and
Lorrain went to Lushai and Mr Pettigrew to Manipur. They helped
the missionaries in different ways like preaching the word of Christ
in the bazaar and at local melas.4 The Arthington Mission began to
function after the arrival of William Pettigrew in Manipur in 1894.
It was named after Robert Arthington, a millionaire from Leeds in
52 Amol Sinha

UK. The mission was purely a private organization and Arthington

himself was its sole patron.5
The commission visited Rampoor Tea Estate which was situ­
ated eight miles away from Silchar. At Rampoor, there were many
Christian coolies; they were employed on the tea estate. The tea
garden manager, Mr Ross Jones, a Welshman who came from
Aberystwyth, was very keen and desirous for the mission field.
He wanted to appoint a teacher to live in the garden and offered
five rupees a month towards his wages. It was decided that Daniel
Ghose, who had been there for some time, connected with the
work at Duldulley in Sylhet, should go to Rampoor for a period
and carry on the work of teacher and evangelist. In 1893 there
were in Rampoor 21 communicants, five candidates, and 29 chil­
dren, making a total of 55 in the church. There were 36 children
in the day school—21 boys and 16 girls. There were 40 girls under
instruction in Silchar along with 26 boys.6
In 1893 on 24 February, the commission came back to Syl­
het. The missionary committee of Sylhet decided to select Silchar
for the second mission station in the plains. This proposal was
approved by the directors in Wales.7 The missionary committee
decided to move Miss Elizabeth William from Sylhet and send the
new missionary, Miss Laura Evans, with her to Silchar. It is worthy
to mention here that according to the report of Rev. J. Pengwern
Jones when the Welsh missionaries were in Sylhet they established
a school for the lowest castes—the shoemakers, the sweepers8 and
the tea garden labourers. They thought of improving their lives
every which way. In Cachar, they did not change their policy.
Therefore, first of all, they turned their attention towards the
improvement of the Christian settlement of Rampoor.9 There,
they founded a school which was used as chapel by the Christian
tea garden labourers. But the school had fallen into a condition
of neglect and was almost roofless. Welsh missionaries repaired
the school and in return they demanded help of the tea garden
labourers for missionary work. Accordingly, missionaries con­
tributed enough to repair the building. They opened the school
not only for the Christian communities but also for the people
of other religions. Christian religious services were held in the
 Christian Missionaries in the Plains of Barak Valley 53

school rooms. Dr Jones said that when he went to Rampoor, he

catechized the children and he had been often astonished how well
they knew many of the teachings of the Bible. Some of the Hindus
answered quite as well as the Christian children. In this way the
school at Rampoor did much to evangelize the children connected
with the tea garden and through them missionaries hoped that the
gospel of Jesus would influence the parents and their families.10
The tea garden manager of Rampoor, Ross Jones helped the Welsh
missionaries in their work to convert local people. Every Sunday
they went preaching three times and one more time every week.
One of the members preached in the Indo-Aryan dialect, and the
evangelist preached in Bengali. Occasionally, Daniel Ghose went
across the river Dolu to a village where a number of Manipuris
lived. After Daniel Ghose and N. Sircar took the charge of Ram-
poor, services were conducted among the Christians in Bengali
and Odiya. Thus, Rampoor emerged to be a significant centre of
Christian influence.

The First Three Missionaries in Silchar

The first three missionaries in Silchar were, namely, Rev. Dr. T.J.
Jones, MA PhD, Miss Elizabeth Williams and Miss Laura Evans.
Dr Jones moved to Silchar from Sylhet before the end of March
1893 and Miss Williams and Miss Evans joined Dr Jones at Silchar
in the month of May 1893. Among the three missionaries, Miss
Laura Evans did not have an academic background. But she had
undergone training in Liverpool and London when she heard the
call of the mission field. Her health was not good, the doctors had
told her that she would not survive for more than a year if she
ventured to go out to India. But she went out nevertheless and
spent 55 years as a missionary in India.11
Regarding the object of the missionaries, Rev. Dr Jones said:
We have also a day school for poor children, which was opened soon after
we came here (Silchar). The attendance varies, but we now think that it
has taken a more settled form. At the end of the year we had 26 names on
the books, but it has increased since the children in this school are taught
reading, writing and arithmetic and are instructed in the scriptures, and
54 Amol Sinha

are taught verses of the Bible. Our object is to keep up its religious and
moral aspect and make it helpful to the Sunday School which is held in
the same building, and thus to became an aid to the evangelization of the
poor children of Silchar.12
Silchar is the chief town of Cachar, a division of the province
of Assam lying to the east of Sylhet. In 1894, the population of
Cachar was over 3,13,000; that of Silchar being about 7,000.
According to the statistic received from Dr Jones, there were in
Silchar eight communicants, four candidates and 10 children; in
the Sunday School 50. The day schools were attended by 86 pupils.
The church collection in Silchar was 129 rupees (about £12-18).
The missionaries are assisted by an evangelist. B.N. Sarkar, and by
Babu Nilkamal Das, a medical assistant at the military hospital.13
Dr Jones reported that in 1894, a mela was held for one month.
The Europeans also held horse races. For these two occasions large
numbers of people gathered. They sold a good number of books
there. On the mela ground a little shop made of bamboo mats had
been erected. They kept there some books for sale. The mission­
ary ladies had charge of this shop. They sold nearly 900 copies
of portions of the scriptures. A gospel meeting was held on the
mela ground. They got large numbers of listeners there. Soon after
the mela at Silchar was over, another mela was held at Karimganj.
There they held several meetings daily and sold between 600 and
700 gospels and other portions of the Bible. On three nights mis­
sionaries showed magic lantern scenes from the life of Christ.14

Evangelism and Church ‘Planting’ of

Welsh Missionaries in Barak Valley
From the very beginning for evangelism the Welsh Presbyterian
missionaries adopted a policy of indigenous leadership. So they
trained the Indian Christians to preach the gospel. For evangelistic
works they opened schools, conducted extra classes for Bible
reading and hymns. Young men and women went out in groups
from their respective churches to conduct evangelistic campaigns
in different parts of the land including opening of the home
mission fund among others. In 1935-6, the Presbyterian Church
 Christian Missionaries in the Plains of Barak Valley 55

of Wales sent a commission to India and they gave the following

suggestion: ‘One suggestion we made in India was that individual
churches should regard the evangelization of the near villages
as their special responsibility, and that they should not depend
entirely on the labour of paid evangelists.’15
The British government indirectly encouraged the mission­
aries’ policy of evangelization, which is well evident from the
words of British prime minister Lord Palmerstone in 1854. He said
that ‘it is not only our duty but it is our interest to promote the
diffusion of Christianity as far as possible throughout the length
and breadth of India’.16 The British government encouraged the
missionaries in their education schemes when they knew that
basically it was being used as a means of proselytization. Mission­
aries evangelized the people through the dedicated teachers. The
establishment of schools and introduction of literature was seen
as the only plan to answer to the good purpose of evangelization.
In the words of Cunville ‘the translation of the Bible marks a very
important missiological event in the life of the church. In the years
before 1891, almost all converts were school pupils. After 1891, the
lives of those who lived outside the school were affected and they
become Christian’.17
In Sylhet district, William Pryse used various methods of
evangelism. He organized public debates between himself and
the Mohammedan maulvis, and the Hindu gurus, established
an orphanage, and arranged essays on Biblical subjects in a
question-answer format.18 Pengwern Jones carried on this work
by organizing workshop services in the chapel and held open-air
meetings in various parts of the town. The first three missionaries,
Dr. T.J. Jones, Miss Elizabeth Willaims and Laura Evans, and their
successors were very active in evangelistic work and church plant­
ing in the Cachar district of Barak Valley. In 1893, Dr T.J. Jones, in
his report, clearly said that they (the missionaries) endeavoured
to present Jesus Christ as a saviour to the people in their own lan­
guage and in English.19 To those who attend their meetings they
delivered the gospel in the way of addresses or lectures on ethical
or semi-religious subjects. They arranged weekly meetings wherein
they taught different subjects such as the version of Christ, the
56 Amol Sinha

work of the Holy Spirit, faith, love, hope and the different books
of the New Testament, chapter-wise. Initially, the Sunday service
was held at 7:30 a.m. But later they scheduled it at 4:30 p.m. The
meetings were held at the mission room. In 1893, Miss Elizabeth
Williams, in one of her letters, reported on the church meeting in
the following manner:
As in hundreds of places in Wales, so here in Silchar, India, a society
(church meeting) is held every Wednesday night, and it is carried on
much in the same way. We meet in a room in Dr Jones’ house. A hymn
book and a copy of the Bible are placed in the hand of each one that
enters, so that we may read together the chapter which is read at the
beginning. Then the little children (our orphans) repeat their verses, and
afterwards those who have grown up.20

In 1899, Dr T.J. Jones, in his annual report, recounted the

preaching meetings at the mela like this:
The work for the year was commenced as usual by holding preaching
meetings in the annual fair (mela) which is held here. Dr. O.O. Williams,
Karimganj, came here to assist us and we were thus able to hold several
meetings everyday, and to proclaim the gospel for several successive days
to large crowds of people. This fair is attended by people from all parts
of Cachar and Sylhet and as many 20 different languages will be spoken
here.21
The tasks of missionaries proved that they were good travel­
lers. Undoubtedly they travelled far and wide to preach the gospel.
For preaching the gospel they adopted many devices like selling
scriptures in the market, at the mela and also opened the Sunday
School among others. T.J. Jones said, ‘We hope God will see that
the good seed which is sown may find deepness of earth, then the
fruit will come.’22 The young men had come regularly to the house
of T.J. Jones and the missionaries read several chapters of the his­
tory of Jesus Christ to them. In addition to the Sunday School, as
T.J. Jones reported in 1901, a class for young men was conducted
in their house. In the previous year they read together The Cross
Bearer, a commentary on Mathew’s Gospel. It was written by Prof.
Farquahan of the London Missionary Society.23 They believed
that several of its members have come to know of the way of
 Christian Missionaries in the Plains of Barak Valley 57

salvation. In 1902, Rev. J. Gerlan Williams, BSc said that at Silchar

the average number of Sunday congregations was about 50.24 These
were nearly all members and their families. Four or five outsiders
also attended. Missionaries arranged special meetings for outsid­
ers and for the educated babus. In that year the presbytery
was held in Silchar. So the missionaries arranged the two special
meetings that were addressed by Revs J. Pengwers Jones and T.W.
Reese. On Christmas night, Rev. J. Ceredig Evans gave an address
wherein he emphasized that they would be needed to appoint
the native workers for the evangelistic works in the villages and
markets of the Cachar. Ordinary week night meetings and soci­
ety prayer meetings were also held at Silchar. Mrs Williams held
a Christian Endeavour Meeting weekly for the children, and the
later part of the year she held a class to prepare young women for
membership. These were received into the Church on Christmas
Day.25
In 1903 Rev J. Gerlan Williams gave a progress report of the
work of missionaries in Silchar. This was due to the fact that they
had extended the work in some directions. One church had been
formed in Borkhola, a place 13 miles out of Silchar station and
at the foot of the North Cachar Hills. The communities consisted
of Khasis who had moved from Jaintia for cultivation of the betel
leaf, a leaf that Indians cannot do without.26 In 1904, another new
church was established in Kalain. It was also a Khasi Presbyterian
Church. When they came down to the plains, only one family, hus­
band and wife, were Christians. But within a very short time by
their influence several others came forward as candidates and the
numbers swelled to 40.27 They had heard that some of the neigh­
bouring tribes like Mikirs and Cacharies were prepared to become
Christians.
Regarding the Rampoor Church, Rev. J. Gerlan Williams said
that
several were baptized in the Rampoor Church. This is a church on a tea
garden and the members are all coolies. They came form Orissa and
belonged to the Oriya community. Rampoor Church was actually estab­
lished before the arrival of Welsh Missionaries in Barak Valley. In 1885,
it was established by the Rampoor Tea Estate manager. When Welsh
58 Amol Sinha

missionaries came in Silchar they took the charge of the Rampoor

Church. During the period of Welsh Mission only 13 families of the Ram-
poor tea estate became Christians. They were, namely, Ananda Senapati,
Anil Singh, Salman Das, Jogendra Das, Hemranjan Patra, Philimon Das,
Layar Das, Chandra Biswas, Sadan Biswas, Nitay Christians, Chanu Das,
Samuel Das and David Das.28
The evangelists of the Rampoor Church during the mission­
ary period were Jenkin Pastor, Khagen Biswas, Candra Biswas,
Sadan Biswas, Ananda Senapati and Parit Babu. Parit Babu was
the last evangelist of the Rampoor Church. His original residence
was in Calcutta. He did not reside at Rampoor regularly. When
he had first come at Rampoor he had stayed in the house of Jatin­
dra Mohan Patra. During this period Rampoor Church members
were divided into two groups and thereby formed another church
at Rampoor that still exists there. The name of the church is ‘All
One—in Christ—Church Fellowship Bridal Apostle and Prophetic
Philadelphia Church’. It was established on June 1947. The land of
the Rampoor Church was not more than three khatas. This dispute
ultimately changed the location of the Welsh Presbyterian Church
and later on it was established in the gateway of the Rampoor
Christian colonies. Before Independence it was under Shillong
Synod. But now it is under the Control of the Mizo Synod. At pres­
ent, at Rampoor, 30 families are Presbyterians and others belong
to the Philadelphia Church (Under CNI Church).29 The Rampoor
Church members built a very nice chapel early in 1896 that cost
about 80 rupees. The church developed in self-reliance and did
well for itself. The church and the school were growing steadily.30
In 1908, Rev T.W. Reese, in her report, noted her occasional visits
to Rampoor Church. She also expressed her desire to improve the
Sunday services by sending an efficient young man to Rampoor. In
open-air meetings missionaries were not only discussing religious
affairs but also other social and educational issues in the country
at that time. As Reese noted:
A number of meetings have been held for the educated babus in English,
embracing temperance, and literary and religious subjects. Papers were
given by orthodox Hindus on the caste system, and on early marriage, and
the evils of both were recognized and condemned by nearly all present.31
 Christian Missionaries in the Plains of Barak Valley 59

Concerning the Cachar presbytery, a letter was received under

the name of Dr Rowlands, moderator, and the Rev. D.K. Badshah,
as secretary, in which it was mentioned that a misunderstanding
had divided the church at Rampoor for the past two-and-a-half
years and had resisted all efforts at reconciliation. The reconcilia­
tion finally took place in the church and the communion service,
which followed, was a success, ten children were baptized and 12
young people were received into full membership.
Another church built by the Welsh Missionaries in Cachar
district is the Pailapool Church. The church building and quar­
ters were built from mission and Presbyterian funds. During the
missionary period, Pailapool was a village situated 14 miles to the
eastern side of Silchar town. The church at Cathedral Road, Cardiff,
had generously contributed 450 rupees towards the creation of a
new chapel there. For the construction of the church at least 1,000
rupees would have been required.32 The land of Pailapool Church
belonged to one Sudhir Kumar Basu, a Christian. But he sold the
land to one Mr. S.K. Roy, during a bout of mental disturbance.
Therefore, the mission worker, Mr. C.K. Biswas, was transferred.
Beside the church and quarters, the mid-mission established their
mission station and they worked there and eventually established
Mission Hospital at Alipur.33 In the initial stage at Pailapool Church
area around five Christian families were Presbyterian. They were,
namely, Mr Biresh Roy, C.K. Biswas, Binay Bushan Roy, Phillip
Sarkar and Santi Chaudhury. The total area of the church land was
not more than 18 khatas. It was made with burnt bricks and wood,
known as the Assam-type house. Near Pailapool at present, two
other churches are there at Hmar Colony. They are called Reform
Presbyterian Churches (RPC) and function under Halflong synod.
All the believers of this Church are Hmar people.34
In 1935, two important churches were built in the Cachar
area—Katlicherra Church and Konakpur Church. Katlichera
Church (in present Hailakandi district) was one of the oldest
churches in the Cachar plains. In 1960, Mr Chalmers, the owner
of the tea garden, erected a church in memory of his late father
known as the Chalmers Memorial Church. When these two
churches were built the missionaries of Silchar district were the
60 Amol Sinha

Rev, and Mrs T.W. Reese, Miss E.M. Lloyd and Miss Olwen Reese.
Reese reported that he paid regular visits to the churches. At Kon­
akpur too, a new church had been built. ‘Four of the churches in
this part of the field have, by a resolution of the presbytery, been
formed recently into a sub-district. Throughout the year the divine
blessing has been upon us.’35 During the time of Welsh missionar­
ies, a small church was built in Sonapur by the local members, and
it was built as a tiny chapel, thatched with grass and a mud floor,
but was spotlessly clean. And there one day, Rev. T.W. Reese, Miss
Unice James and Miss Phyllis Jones, gave baptism to 27 Khasis, 13
adults and 14 children.36
The work on the plains was very difficult and the church could
not grow properly. It was evident from the report of Rev J.W. Rob­
erts. He said:
The year 1920 was the period of great unrest throughout India and that
had coloured the whole work of missionaries. In September, however,
a nationalist conference for the Sylhet and Cachar district was held in
Sylhet, and great crowds came from every part. This conference adopted,
on behalf of these districts, the policy of non-cooperation. The result of
this was to make the attendance at our Bible classes’ fall very low and to
make the holding of the English meetings impossible.37
However, in that juncture a presbytery was held in Sylhet in
August 1920 at which Babu Hem R. Sarkar was ordained to the full
work of the ministry. From the beginning of the year, a presbytery
fund was established, all the churches on the plains contribut­
ing. In that year the total collection was Rs 750, an exceedingly
encouraging figure. This made a step in advance in the develop­
ment of India Church on the plains, and the enthusiasm shown
was a very happy augury for future.38 Hem R. Sarkar was the first
Bengali pastor in Silchar in 1920. The churches in the plains were
organized into three presbyteries, namely, Sylhet-Habiganj with
eight churches and Karimganj Cachar with five churches. The first
plains assembly met in Maulavi Bazar in February 1925, with Rev.
P Jones as moderator. The total number of Christians at the end of
1925 was 1,947.
In 1933, Rev. Edwin Adams had given a report about the object
of presbytery like this:
 Christian Missionaries in the Plains of Barak Valley 61

In Cachar, where the Silchar-Karimganj presbytery was held from

December 1 to 3. All the meetings of the presbytery were character­
ized from beginning to the end by a warm atmosphere of devotion and
spiritual power. All who attended witnessed to a special sense of God’s
presence with his people. Subjects dealt with were grace, gods pose to
redeem, and prayer. The presbytery was concluded on the Sunday night
by a long programme by the ‘Pad Kirtan’ party.39
On 1 December 1933, a presbytery of the assembly of the hill
tribes of Cachar was held in Jaintia Hill. Adam said, ‘Here, too, we
had evidence of God’s presence in this church.’40 Hill tribe presby­
tery sometimes dealt with the problem of Syntengs who engaged
in paan cultivation in the plains. These people, coming down from
the Hill churches are exposed to unusual moral and spiritual dan­
gers. Rev Adam again stated: ‘It is feared that in isolated places
many fall away from all connection with the Christian church.
The presbytery is grappling with this problem, but with altogether
inadequate resources.’41
In 1947, with the coming of Independence and Partition, the
plains assembly was reduced to a district meeting with headquar­
ters at Silchar and a mission centre at Karimganj. During those
days, the church in the plains faced many problems and there
was an imminent collapse. However, the assembly took a step to
appoint Rev. Zairema as the assembly officer (from 1959 to 1968)
to supervise the work of the church in the Cachar district. The
year 1953 was very encouraging for missionary works in several
ways in Barak Valley. In that year the general secretary of Silchar
and surrounding districts paid a visit to Silchar. On that occasion
the assembly was held in Silchar. There they discussed about the
tribal and Bengali churches. A few prayer groups had formed,
whose burden was a revival of the Bengali church. Although the
work amongst tribal Christians was greatly handicapped due to
the lack of education and financial difficulties, the work of evan­
gelizing had been most encouraging. In one sub-district alone, 10
whole villages were converted to Christianity.42 In all branches of
the church in Cachar, progress was achieved mainly due to the
initiative of the Indian Christian, themselves.
62 Amol Sinha

Evangelism and Church Planting (Karimganj)

In Karimganj district, the first evangelistic work was started by
Dr O.O. Williams. He distributed many hundreds of gospels,
tracts, catechism, etc., and made use of such works as Peep of Day,
Stalker’s Life of Christ, and so on. He proved that those books were
widely read. Sometimes, Dr Williams organized Bible classes for
the boys who knew English. He got another valuable opportunity
to preach the gospel of Jesus every year when Europeans officers
and businessmen met for horse races in Karimganj district. For this
exhibition, many native people, too, came and they also attended
the preaching meetings of the gospel of Jesus which were held by
the missionaries in the market. Sometimes, on Sunday they went
out to the villages and held meetings there. Miss Das had given a
report as follows:
About 20 or 30 came together, some of them sick persons, and one a
leper. We sang a few hymns and then spoke on the creation, the justice
and love of God and afterwards on the verse, ‘Come unto me all ye that
labour’, etc.; the majority listened very attentively.43
The Church of Karimganj was growing slowly, the Christian
members were very few, but they were very generous. They sub­
scribed 100 rupees for the relief of the people who suffered on
account of the floods; besides giving their time and energy in
going about helping to distribute rice supplied freely by the gov­
ernment for the use of the starving. Also the Church in Karimganj,
aided by some Hindus and Mohammedans, sent 156 rupees, eight
annas, to the Belgian consul in Calcutta for the relief of the suffer­
ing Belgians.

First Convert and the First Pastor in Barak Valley

Gonga Prosad was the first convert in Barak Valley. He was a
young Brahmin, who received baptism on the 26 July 1895. He was
baptized by Dr Jones, on his baptism, his name was changed, at his
own request to Prem Ronjan Upadhyay, a name signifying ‘love’.44
The local people did not welcome the baptisim of Gonga Prosad
which is evident from the report of Dr T.J. Jones. Dr Jones reported
 Christian Missionaries in the Plains of Barak Valley 63

that ‘the baptism of Prem Ronjon, who had been in the school
up to 1894, caused a number of parents to take away their boys’.45
The people of India looked upon baptism as a rite by which a man
was made Christian. After he had embraced Christianity, Prosad
read with Dr Jones for some time, and afterwards proceeded to
the theological institution of Cherra. In March, at the Shangpoong
presbytery, he passed the evangelists’ examination successfully. He
emerged to be a very talented young man, a good preacher and
filled with the spirit of the gospel. In addition to this work as a
teacher and evangelist, he had undertaken much work amongst
the Khasis in Marwacherra. In 1920, the first Bengali pastor was
ordained, Rev. Hem. R. Sarkar, Silchar. About Sarkar T.J. Jones
said: ‘He passed the theological examination third on the list. He
is really good and substantial preacher and has a very pleasing
style.’46
Two other men, viz., Abdul Hamid and Anonda K. Ghose,
provided good services for the mission. Abdul Hamid opened
a school at Sunaibari, a place six miles distant from Silchar, for
the Nagas, a tribe inhabiting the surrounding Hills. By doing this
work he brought many poor tribes to Christ. The contribution of
Anonda K. Ghose as the deacon was very significant. He did his
work well. He preached regularly in the chapel and in the bazaar.
During the time of the missionary, the work on the plains was very
slow but steadfastly growing. It was slow because plain people did
not accept Christianity and their work wholeheartedly. The mis­
sionaries believed that the gospel seed sown may produce more
fruit. In Silchar station the members of native Christians had
grown so much that the missionaries felt that two Bengali preach­
ing services should be held each Sunday for their benefit.

Work among Zenana

The work for women by the lady missionaries is called zenana,
because in order to safeguard the sanctity of their homes, the
Hindus secluded the females of the family in the part of the house
called the zenana. In 1893 two lady missionaries, namely, Miss
Williams and Miss Evans, started the zenana because the people of
64 Amol Sinha

this valley could heartily receive the work of the lady missionaries.47
The people continued to favour them due to their good and
acceptable work. The native people appeared to appreciate the
labours of missionary sisters with their women. In their weekly
meeting they delivered lectures on ethical and semi-religious
subjects. The primary object of the zenana’s work was to win the
women of the village for the Lord. Sometimes they established
outstations in the villages to serve as centres of Christian influence.
Such centres would enable the women missionaries to stay in the
village for a period of one to three months which, in turn, could
bring them in closer contract with the people. They could then
create the opportunity to share the gospel more effectively by
words and deeds. In 1937, they introduced the village residence
scheme.
Miss Evans, in a letter dated 14 February 1893, reported
about her work in the zenanas that they began it with two houses
and visited these twice a week. When the number of the houses
increased, they visited them once a week. The last month of 1893
saw the number of houses increase to 20. There were 26 families
under instruction in these houses. As a rule they spent an hour
in every house. In each house for 20 minutes they gave religious
instruction like reading a portion of the gospels and the history
of Jesus Christ. The houses that they were allowed to visit were
increasing constantly.
At Karimganj, the first women work or zenana was started by
Mrs Williams. She took one zenana regularly. In the last part of the
year 1895 they opened 11 zenanas, all of which comprised Hindus.
There were 18 women in them, who were taught needlework, Eng­
lish and Bengali.48 In 1902, missionaries of Sylhet started publishing
a periodical for educating the women of the plains. The name of
the journal was The Friend of the Women of Bengal. In 1900 Miss
Williams stated in her report that as the town was growing the
number of zenanas, too, was increasing and she had entirely failed
to meet all the calls. Three months and more passed by before she
was able to visit several of them. At Karimganj, the zenanas work
was also in a developed state. There the women were taught to sew,
read and to be truthful. Miss Das Looked after the work of zenana
 Christian Missionaries in the Plains of Barak Valley 65

there. She visited 25 houses regularly. Her chief aim was to bring
the gospel to the women. Through the medical work she opened
many zenanas. Miss Das said: ‘We have given medicines, too, to a
large number of people from villages far and near.’49
In 1904, Miss S.M. Das again gave the report of the zenanas
work of Karimganj. In her report she stated that the number of
zenanas through the year had been far more than in any previous
year.50 The zenana work in Silchar town was rapidly increased. To
cover their work the lady missionaries visited some of the zenanas
twice a day, in the morning and in the afternoon. All the houses
in Silchar had been opened for them. Even the men and old
women also came to listen to them. But ‘some of them occasion­
ally defended Hinduism and even all its cruel customs’. In 1905, in
Karimganj Miss Das taught the women sewing, crochet and fancy
work and then she sang to them and read and explained a por­
tion of the gospels. Her aim at all times was to make known to
them the ‘glad tidings’. Miss Das referred to several women in the
zenanas who delighted to hear the gospel and to sing Christian
hymns, but who had not so far made a public profession towards
Christ. The medical training which she received in this country
was found of incalculable help in her work. She also desired to
thank the kind friends who had from time to time sent her gifts
for use in her work with the women. Sewing cotton, fine needles,
small thimbles, calico, etc., were very useful.51 The zenanas of
Karimganj were under the care of Miss Das. In 1906, she included
several new houses in the fold where she met with very bigoted
women and changed their way of life by teaching of reading and
singing the hymns.
By opening zenanas, the lady missionaries could really change
the social position of the women in Barak Valley. By their great
effort many women received education, acquired vocational train­
ing and knowledge of social services, etc. At that time Mrs Kusum
Kumari Ghosh could speak good English. Mrs Sushila Das, Mrs
Suroma Raj, Mrs Shalyabala Ghosh, Mrs Dayabati Nandi, Mrs
Kiran Bala Das, Mrs Pramobala Das, Mrs Minalini Chatterjee and
also many other women acquired the knowledge of social services
after regular attendance of zenana. They inspired other women of
66 Amol Sinha

the Valley for zenana work more enthusiastically by handful of rice

collection or Musti Bikha. With this they raised the zenana fund.
Mrs Uma Dutta became the headmistress of a government girls’
school due to the untiring effort of lady missionaries. They could
easily discharge their duties with the help of the women believers.52
In 1908, Miss Das in her report mentioned their visit to a
Mohammedan zenana pupil. She met with a Mohammedan
woman who was quite broad-minded and took an interest in
Christianity. She was educated and very different to most women
of her class. In 1910, Miss Laura Evans reported:
We had successful meetings with the church women throughout the
year, and I think it was of benefit to us all. We had hoped that a num­
ber from the zenana would join with us in our services; a few came but
not regularly.53 In that year the zenana of Karimganj was visited by Miss
Radcliffe. She taught them the related ways of the Great Salvation. The
year 1914 was a very promising year in Silchar zenana. They had sold
more copies of gospels in the zenanas than ever before. In that year Sorat
and Mrs Ghosh helped them in zenana work by giving scripture lessons,
instructing worldly things to the women. The women who wanted to
learn English and sewing pay for their education.54
In 1915, the zenana girls participated well for a Red Cross Sale
which was held in Silchar. They brought some of the things which
they had made themselves. In 1917, the zenana work in Karimganj
was successfully carried on by Miss Das despite strong opposition
that arose that year among the fisherman class. But this did not
discourage the missionaries. In 1919, lady missionaries like Miss
Aranwen Evans, Miss Olwen Reese, Miss Launa Evans and Miss
Elen Evans carried on work in the zenanas of Silchar and Karim­
ganj in Barak Valley area. Miss Hetty Evans reported that in that
year they visited more than 20 villages. There were often 30 to 40
people listening attentively.
Regarding the work in Karimganj, Dr Helen Rowlands wrote
in her diary:
Our women’s committee met once a quarter, when under the able chair­
manship of Miss Laura Evans or Mrs Reese, we discuss our difficulties
with one another and shared our joys, and through prayer and following,
strengthened and encouraged one another to continue steadfast in the
work.55
 Christian Missionaries in the Plains of Barak Valley 67

At Silchar, zenana work happened regularly. Every fortnight

the Bengali women’s meeting had been held under the presidency
of Mrs Jenkins. In 1952, a Lushai women’s meeting was held. In the
initial stages of the Lushai women’s meeting, the attendance was
small but later it grew. The meetings brought them many blessings.
In some of the gatherings, tablecloths were made. Thus, lady mis­
sionaries introduced their zenana work not only in the plains, but
also in the areas of hills and tea gardens of this valley. By doing this
work they easily penetrated the heart of the women of the Barak
Valley with their brand of Christianity.

Work for Widows and Orphans (Dipti Nibash)

Dr Helen Rowland was famous for her creation of a home for
widows and orphans, called Dipti Nibash which, by dint of her
ability, was founded on 15 March 1939, in the Mission Compound,
Karimganj. Dipti Nibash is a Bengali phrase. It has a dual meaning.
Dipti means light and Nibash means house. So the two words
unitedly formed a new compound word, Lighthouse. Miss Hetty
Evans who was one of the missionaries of Sylhet in 1937 and also
a missionary of Karimganj station in 1922, wrote a report of Dipti
Nibash:
Dr Rowlands and I take charge of the women’s work here (Karimganj) for
alternate three months. The other quarter is spent in village work. Miss
Das and others help us with this work, and the women always give us a
warm welcome.56

The women’s work in Karimganj was set down under two

heads (a) work outside in the villages, and (b) work within Dipti
Nibash, the women’s home. The main workers of Dipti Nibash in
Karimganj were—Miss Minnie Das, Miss Santi Sircar, Miss Esther
Singh, Miss Hetty Evans, Mr and Mrs Angle Jones and Dr Helen
Rowland. Dr Rowland, in her report, writes:
We have had the blind, the maimed and the half of our community, in
both the literate and metaphorical sense, and have been truly grateful for
the change seen in their lives. We try to keep an open door for women
who are in dire need of refuge.57
68 Amol Sinha

For Dipti Nibash, missionaries adopted the two methods—

worship and work. They had a little plot of mission land, which
was very fertile for cultivation. The women workers did everything
except ploughing. They had also worked well in the gardens. They
were much interested in knitting work for Red Cross supplies.
Many soldiers were stationed in this valley as the Second World
War broke out at that time.
In 1942, Miss Hetty Evans paid a visit to the villages of
Sonapore where in 1924 the missionaries built a mission centre
and at present there stood four mission centres and in each centre,
there was a local Christian worker for looking after its manage­
ment. When they had been facing financial and other problems in
their works, the friends of the missionaries and institutions were
extending all possible assistance. They were Mrs Harries, Towy
Works, Carmarthen; Rhydageau Church, Cyfeilles, Mrs. Griffiths,
Llangain, Miss Jones, Nanternis, Mr & Mrs Morris, and Llanelly.
and so on.58
In July 1947, two fly-shuttle looms were set up and a larger one
followed next year, another later on and they set up five fly-shuttle
looms as well as two of the kind used by hills women, known as
‘Naga-process looms’. The sale of their products had helped them
acquire a warping drum, with many threads and looms of vary­
ing sizes and counts, together with a number of spinning wheels
and the famous Indian charkha for making bobbins. They used to
weave saris, dhotis, bedsheets, bedcover, calico, and so on, and also
honeycomb, towelling, curtains, mosquito netting, tablecloths,
plaid fabric and dress material for frocks and shirts. Embroidery,
needlework, knitting (the bigger boys made their own pullovers),
baking—all had their place in their curriculum.59 Older women in
select batches took their turns in cooking and other kitchen duties;
children being taught by them were also in each group. There were
cattle sheds and poultry houses as well. The paddy for the day’s
food was husked daily. They had three husking pedals worked by
the older and the younger members together.
Dr Rowland noted: ‘This Dipti Nibash or ashram is meant
to be, first of all, for our own Christian community and then for
any woman or child in need of refuge more than shelter.’60 But Dr
 Christian Missionaries in the Plains of Barak Valley 69

Rowland, who served as a missionary in India for 40 years, did

not confine her work to Dipti Nibash; she was a very good teacher
as well. She had a very intimate relationship with the Karimganj
College. She obtained her PhD degree in Bengali from Calcutta
University. She worked in Karimganj college as a honorary teacher
in the department of philosophy and English. Sometimes she
taught Bengali classes.61 The Library Hall of Karimganj College
was later named Rowland Hall in her memory. Dr Rowland had
arranged to hold a local examination in order that the local stu­
dents should not have to sit for the Calcutta examination. During
her lifetime, a new sericulture department was also set up in Dipti
Nibash. The previous year Dipti Nibash was able to produce its
first skeins of silk, after going through the whole process from the
egg right on through the silkworm and cocoon stages to the actual
reeling. For this purpose two mulberry plantations were started.
As silkworms are very large and devour enormous quantities of
mulberry leaves, a separate house for silkworm rearing with its
equipment of frames and trays, etc., was constructed.

Work Amongst the Namasudra Community in

Barak Valley
Namasudras were considered a socially, economically and
educationally backward people in Barak Valley who were a majority
in Karimganj district. The Welsh missionaries of this district were
always looking for ways to convert these backward Hindu people
into Christianity. In 1910, they got the opportunity to start their
work among the Namasudras. In the same year, on 3 February, a
delegation of leaders of the Namasudras came to consult with Rev.
O.O. Williams on behalf of their caste. This was the real beginning
of the missionaries’ work among the Namasudras. Their spokesman
brought with him a file of their newspaper copies which had been
published for about two years. He had carefully read all these, and
had noticed and marked all references to missionaries in the paper.
After a long discussion with them he promised to help. In 1911
the total number of Namasudra people in the plains area of Sylhet
Cachar was nearly 2,00,000, their villages being mainly situated
along the banks of the river. Although, in name they connected
70 Amol Sinha

with the Hindu religion in many respects they were outside the
pale of Hinduism.61
Dr William was the first missionary who took the great step
to improve the condition of the Namasudra people by imparting
them education. So in 1910 he established 16 schools for them in
Habiganj district and he received a grant from the government.
By 1912, missionaries established 19 Namasudra schools in Sylhet
district. In 1914, 12 Namasudra schools were established in Silchar
and 12 in Karimganj.62 In 1916 in Cachar district two Namasudra
schools were closed down owing to shortage of funds. From the
mission funds, they gave salaries to the teachers of the Namasudra
schools. The missionaries visited regularly the Namasudra schools
and villages and taught them the story of Jesus Christ. There con­
tinued to be a movement towards Christianity in the Namasudra
villages. On Christmas Day, many villagers would come to Karim­
ganj to attend the church services. Reporting about the response to
their evangelistic activities T.W. Reese says:
Several have expressed a desire to become Christians, and here some
asked for baptism, but so far they have not summoned up sufficient cour­
age to take that stand and remain on in their own villages. And until
the time comes that they are prepared to do so we have not encouraged
them.63
In 1923 a society was formed at Silchar representing some
scores of thousands of people with the object of stimulating prog­
ress among four of the large depressed classes. Members of the
society elected T.W. Reese as the permanent president and Aghore
Babu, a widely cultured, a high caste Kulin Brahmin, became the
vice-president of the society.64 The work among the Namasudras
continued to grow. In the year 1925, 120 Namasudras were pres­
ent for Christmas Day service at Karimganj. Miss Hetty Evans
reported:
I believe that the only way to give people a true conception of Christian­
ity is to live it among them. We are always welcomed to spend a night or
two in their houses and villages, and the fact that we take sufficient inter­
est in them to do so is greatly appreciated. We visit some villages weekly,
others monthly, or oftener, as circumstances permit. Although there is
 Christian Missionaries in the Plains of Barak Valley 71

a strong desire among the Namasudras to accept Christianity, there are

great difficulties in their way, and should they come over, our difficulties
will be multiplied a thousandfold. They are almost all entirely illiterate.
The mission schools are doing excellent work.65 The work amongst the
Namasudras was carried on as usual. The church was growing slowly.
In 1925, 200 Namasudras attended service on Christmas Day in Karim­
ganj Mission. In 1929, 18 members of the Namasudras community were
received into the church. Among them one was the teacher of Sonapore
village school. With him, one other person in the same village was also
received. In 1931, on January 3, two Namasudra boys, Durgyamani and
Shadhumani, took baptism from the village of Kamalpur.66 When they
took baptism, the missionaries of Karimganj were the Rev. Edwin Adams
and Mrs Edwins, Miss J. Helen Rowland and W.A Thomas. Two other
Namasudras S.K. Sarkar and Gopal Ram of Sonapore village took charge
as evangelist and village school teacher, respectively. In the last part of
the same year, two missionaries, Miss Hetty Evans and Miss Edams, were
transferred to other stations. In their places, Miss J.H. Rowland and Miss
W.A. Thomas took the charge of Karimganj Mission Station. In Sylhet
district, for the Namasudras, missionaries established a co-operative
credit society. They got an agricultural loan at a low interest. In Barak
Valley area for Namasudras, they established many churches and not less
than 26 schools.67

Mode and Result of Conversion

When the Welsh Mission established their mission centre at Silchar
in Barak Valley by Dr T.J. Jones in 1893, Silchar was the chief town
of Cachar district. At that time the total population of Cachar
district was 3,13,000 and that of Silchar being about 7,000.68 The
first Welsh missionary, Dr T.J. Jones, adopted evangelistic work
for conversion through preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ to the
youth by arranging weekly meetings. In that weekly meeting, they
taught The Person of Christ, The Work of The Holy Spirit, Faith,
Love, Hope, the different books of the New Testament chapter by
chapter. They preached the gospel in English and in Bengali.69 He
succeeded in baptizing a young Brahmin of Silchar in 1895 on
26 July. His name was Gonga Prosad. He was the first convert from
Silchar. The missionaries also started the Sunday School or Sunday
service for the preaching of Christianity in this valley. In their
72 Amol Sinha

Sunday School, both boys and girls studied. In the Sunday service,
day labourers of tea garden community also attended. They could
not attend the day period during the other six days of the week
as they were engaged in the day services of the tea garden. The
Sunday services were earlier held at 7:30 a.m. but later shifted to
4:30 p.m. The meeting was held at the mission room. In Sunday
School, they taught the children from the Bible. At Silchar, the
Sunday School’s average attendance was 20. In the initial stages,
the Bible class of Sunday School was taught by Mrs Jones. For
preaching Christianity to the non-Christian areas of Barak Valley,
the missionaries also adopted openair meetings in the towns and
the villages. In the rainy season, when Cachar was flooded, they
used a boat to preach Christianity in flood-affected villages. They
also arranged horse races in Silchar town during the time of mela
or fairs. In this mela they appointed native preachers to evangelize
non-Christian people. The native evangelists, like S.N. Sarkar, D.
Ghose, and Nil Kamal Das, sold Christian texts and distributed
tracts to them. Missionary ladies also opened a little shop on the
mela ground for selling the books of Jesus. They sold 500 to 1,000
books and journals every month. It is pertinent to mention here
that the Bengali women, even after their conversion to Christianity,
did not attend the public meeting or melas.
Mrs Jones also started a Christian Endeavour Society amongst
the children for preparing the children to work for Christ and His
church. Welsh missionaries also set up school and a medical dis­
pensary. With the help of native teachers they had collected the
poor and distressed people from the hills and the plains of Barak
Valley. They provided them missionary education so that they
could read the Bible and convert to Christianity. Moreover, through
medical dispensaries, they had given free treatment to the poor
people of this area. During the time of flood and natural calamities
they also arranged relief camps in their mission compound. They
distributed clothes, medicine and arranged temporary shelters for
distressed people. The missionaries had arranged all these things
to convert the people of Barak Valley. But in spite of their hard
labour they could convert only a few amongst the plainspeople of
 Christian Missionaries in the Plains of Barak Valley 73

Barak Valley. On the other hand, the tribal people were converted
easily. It was mainly because the tribal people of Barak Valley were
economically and educationally very backward. Their religion was
also not an institutionalized one. So when the missionaries pro­
vided them an institutionalized religion, they accepted gratefully.
An alternative faith could easily be superimposed on their faith.
The total population of Barak Valley who were converted to
Christianity in the Welsh Missionary period (1893-1958) is given
below:

Area Total no. of Converts into

Presbyterian Christians
Barak plain area 850 (eight hundred and fifty)
Barak Hill area 6,000 (six thousand).
Total no. of Converts during the 6,850 (six thousand, eight
Welsh missionary period hundred and fifty)

Among the total number of converts (6,850), the number of

Hindu Bengali converts was 250. Those from tea garden commu­
nities like Adivasi, Oriya, Bihari, Gond (Madhya Pradesh) was 600
in number, Khasi and Jaintias, who were residing in the periphery
of hill areas of Barak Valley, after conversion, numbered about
2,500. One thousand Mizos of Satasura Hill, the Cheragi range
and Jalnachara range, bordering Lushai Hills, were converted by
the Welsh missionaries. A total of 1,500 Hmar and 500 Kuki of
Lakhipur area touching Manipur and the borders of N.C. Hill
were converted into Christianity during the missionary era. The
total number of Presbyterian Christian population of Barak Val­
ley was 20,000. They belonged to different Presbyterian synods. In
Mizoram Presbyterian Church synod, there were 9,000 Christians.
They were Bengali, Bihari, Bishnupriya, Cachari, Manipuri, Mizo
and other hill tribals, excluding Hmar and Khasi. There were 6,000
Khasi and Jaintia Presbyterian Christians in the Khasi and Jaintia
Synod. Hill tribes, such as Hmar, Kuki, Paite, Naga, Dimasa and
Nepali, comprised 5,000 Presbyterian Christians in the Cachar Hill
tribes synod. Other non-Presbyterian Christian denominations
74 Amol Sinha

both in the plains and hills of Barak Valley were 2,650. At pres­
ent, near about 40,000 Christians are living in this valley. The total
percentage of the Christian population is nearly 8 per cent.
The Welsh missionaries who established their mission centre
in this valley in 1893 worked till the end of the year 1958. In these
65 years, they worked tremendously hard but they failed in their
mission of conversion to Christianity as they expected results com­
parable with that in neighbouring hill areas Lushai Hills, Khasi
and Jaintia Hills and North Cachar Hills. In these hill areas they
put in much less toil and endeavour but they gained many more
converts. The reasons for the failure of the Welsh missionaries in
Barak Valley are as follows:
1. The population of plain area comprising of Hindu, Muslim
and a few Jains and Buddhists already had their own religious
faith. The Western missionaries could not find any foothold in
this firm sociocultural and religious environment.
2. Although Welsh missionaries provided services like-
education, medical relief and rehabilitation to the distressed
people of Barak Valley, these had hardly any impact on the
spiritual life of the people. It was mainly because of the fact
that the plain people of this valley did not consider the method
of conversion by the missionaries attractive. Moreover, during
that period, most of the plainspeople of Barak Valley did not
consider themselves financially backward. So they did not
accept the services of the missionaries.
3. In those days, the plainspeople of Barak Valley did not want
to have close relations with the missionaries. They used to
boycott the people who attended the preaching meetings,
missionary schools and hospitals. Therefore, other native
people were afraid of attending those functions or taking part
in the activities of the Christian missionaries.
In conclusion, it can be said that the Welsh missionaries estab­
lished their mission centre in Barak Valley considering that this
valley was the only gateway for them to enter into neighbouring
hill states like Manipur, Mizoram and Tripura. The activities of
 Christian Missionaries in the Plains of Barak Valley 75

Welsh missionaries in this Valley produced some effects that are

listed below:
That the Welsh mission established the system of higher
education as well as that of women’s education in this valley is
a historical fact. They are rightly called the pioneers of modern
education in Barak Valley. They established several beneficiaries
in terms of stipends, vocational training and so on. The Oriental
English School of Silchar was started by Welsh Mission at Jail Road
Silchar to serve the people of this valley. Baptist Mid-Mission
(USA) at Alipur in Cachar and at Markunda in Karimganj district
opened educational institutions and hospitals for neglected com­
munities like Manipuris, Rongmeis, Pangals (Manipuri Muslims)
and other tribes inhabiting Barak Valley. Besides these, there came
up mission employment facilities for deserving native Christian
members as pastors, teachers, evangelists, nurses and other mis­
sion workers. The missionaries established schools in Barak
Valley for preparing teachers from among native communities like
Namasudrus and Brahmins. Moreover, they used Bengali as the
medium of instruction in the initial stage in schools. They also
provided native leadership through Christian education.
The role of the Welsh Presbyterian mission in the transfor­
mation of the position of women in Barak Valley was significant.
Before the advent of missionary activities, women lived within the
allotted boundaries provided by their superiors in the family. For
the uplift of women of the valley, girls’ schools were started. More­
over, by organizing church meetings for native Christian women
every Sunday, giving them the responsibilities of rice collection
and also other works of the churches, etc., they helped them learn
the method of formation of women’s societies and associations.
Welsh missionaries were the first workers who played a great
role in spreading Western education and Western lifestyle to the
tribal people of this valley by setting up schools and churches.
Because of the missionary activities, people were brought to one
place through churches and schools and thus the earlier minor
subdivisions among the tribals were removed. So far as the tea
garden communities of Barak Valley were concerned, the Welsh
76 Amol Sinha

missionaries could hardly have any impact upon them. Almost

every tea garden in Barak Valley had few Christians and some of
them belonged to the Welsh Mission’s care. Moreover, the Chris­
tian members of the tea garden communities of this valley were
not the direct converts of the Welsh Mission. They were already
Christians from their original home states like Orissa, Bihar and
Andhra Pradesh, etc. As a result of this, no significant addition
is found in their population as such. Proper assessment clearly
shows that Welsh missionaries did not establish any institution
for imparting modern education to the tea garden communities of
Barak Valley. They gave them such education by which they could
only learn the English language for the reading of the Bible. Hence,
their education was limited to English language lessons.
Welsh Missionaries were not capable of adopting any success­
ful medical mission in Barak Valley. For their purpose of spreading
Christianity they started medical work in Karimganj district but it
was for a brief time only. Moreover, no other missionaries of the
Welsh Mission, except Dr O.O. Williams, was interested in a medi­
cal mission in this valley. For this reason, when he went home,
the medical work in Barak Valley could not be continued properly
and the medical mission operations in the plains came to an end.
Leprosy hospitals of Makunda of Karimganj district and Alipur
hospital of Baskandi, Cachar, were hospitals of the Baptist Mission.
The traditional structure of the Church is still retained in
the churches of Barak area which decrees a subordinate place for
women in the church. Due to the old, patriarchal, hierarchical and
bureaucratic structures of the churches the theologically trained
women were not adequately used in the church services of Barak
Valley.
The establishment of mission stations in Cachar and Karim­
ganj districts of Barak Valley during second half of the nineteenth
century by the Welsh Missionaries was not very successful from the
perspective of spreading Christianity in this area. Because, their
evangelistic works could not change the firm faith of the people of
this valley, Hinduism and Islam, religions which were deep-rooted
in this area prior to Christianity. The rate of conversion from the
population in Barak Valley by the missionaries was significantly
 Christian Missionaries in the Plains of Barak Valley 77

poor. Out of 1,000 people, the converts gained were not more than
20 to 30 persons only and this also was an uneven proportion of
the demography. Though, the missionaries converted the people
of different communities and tribes of Barak Valley like Bengalis,
Khasis, Nagas and tea garden labourers in fair numbers, in spite of
their conversion to Christianity these people continued to follow
their old rituals, customs and traditions. They also used the titles
they obtained from their forefathers. Welsh missionaries could not
spread Christianity in most of the tea garden areas of Barak Valley.
It was due to the fact that tea garden labourers of this valley were
the followers of Hindu religion. As orthodox Hindus they thought
that if Christianity entered their areas, they would lose their tradi­
tional culture and religion.

Notes
1. ‘Report of the Sylhet Cachar, 1892’, in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.),
Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales
on Sylhet, Bangladesh and Cachar, India, 1886–1955, Shalom
Publications, Silchar, Assam, first edition, 2003, p. 14.
2. Ranjit Goala (ed.), Souvenir Presbyterian Church of Silchar, Souvenir
Committee, Barak Presbyterian Church, Silchar, 2002, p. 18.
3. Rev. Vanlalchhunga, Marvelous Mission, Shalom Publication, Aizawl
(Mizoram), 2008 (revised edn), p. 147.
4. ‘Report of the Sylhet Cachar, 1893’, in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.),
Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on
Sylhet, Bangladesh and Cachar, India, 1886–1955, op. cit., p. 22.
5. T.S. Gangte, The Kukis of Manipur: A Historical Analysis, Gyan
PublishingHouse, New Delhi, 2003, p. 36.
6. ‘Report of the Sylhet Cachar, 1893’, in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.),
Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on
Sylhet, Bangladesh and Cachar, India, 1886–1955’, op. cit., p. 20.
7. Rev.Vanlalchhunga, Marvelous Mission, op cit., p. 147.
8. ‘Report of Sylhet Cachar 1892,’ in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.),
Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on
Sylhet, Bangladesh and Cachar, India, 1886-1955, op. cit., p. 14.
9. Ibid., p. 21.
10. ‘Report of Sylhet Cachar, 1893’, in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.),
78 Amol Sinha

Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on

Sylhet Bangladesh and Cachar, India, 1886-1955, op. cit., p. 21.
11. ‘Report of Sylhet Cachar, 1895’, in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.),
Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on
Sylhet Bangladesh and Cachar, India, 1886-1955, op. cit., p. 39.
12. ‘Report of Sylhet Cachar 1897,’ in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.):
Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on
Sylhet Bangladesh and Cachar, India, 1886-1955, op. cit.
13. ‘Report of Sylhet Cachar 1901’, in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.),
Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on
Sylhet Bangladesh and Cachar, India, 1886-1955,’ op. cit., p. 89.
14. ‘Report of Sylhet Cachar, 1924’, in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.),
Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on
Sylhet Bangladesh and Cachar, India, 1886-1955, op. cit., p. 253.
15. Rev. Vanlalchhunga, Marvelous Mission, op. cit., pp. 147, 36.
16. Sharmila Das Talukdar, Khasi Cultural Resistance to Colonialism,
Spectrum Publication, Guwahati, 2004, p. 40.
17. Ibid., p. 64.
18. Rev. Vanlalchhunga, Marvelous Mission, op. cit., p. 81.
19. ‘Report of Sylhet Cachar, 1893’, in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.),
Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on
Sylhet Bangladesh and Cachar, India, 1886-1955, op. cit., p. 21.
20. ‘Report of Sylhet Cachar’, in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.), Reports
of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on Sylhet
Bangladesh and Cachar, India, 1886-1955, op. cit., p. 22.
21. ‘Report of Sylhet Cachar, 1893,’ in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.),
Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on
Sylhet Bangladesh and Cachar, India, op cit., pp. 73-4.
22. Goala, op cit., p. 20.
23. ‘Report of Sylhet Cachar 1901’, in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.),
Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on
Sylhet Bangladesh and Cachar, India, 1886-1955, op. cit., p. 93.
24. Ibid., p. 98.
25. ‘Report of Sylhet Cachar, 1902,’ in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.),
Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on
Sylhet Bangladesh and Cachar, India, 1886-1955, ibid., p. 100.
26. Ibid., p. 107.
27. ‘Report of Sylhet Cachar, 1904’, in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.),
Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian church of Wales on
Sylhet Bangladesh and Cachar, India, 1886-1955, op. cit., p. 115.
 Christian Missionaries in the Plains of Barak Valley 79

28. Interview with Ambika Roy, aged 85 years, at her residence in

Rampoor, 13 September 2009.
29. Interview with Arun Patra, aged 70 years, ex-Chairman of Rampoor
Church, and Rana Roy, ex-Secretary of Rampoor Church, at
Rampoor, 13 September 2009.
30. Rev. Vanlalchhunga, Marvelous Mission, op. cit., p. 155.
31. ‘Report of Sylhet Cachar, 1908,’ in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.),
Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on
Sylhet, Bangladesh and Cachar, India, 1886-1955, op. cit., p. 143.
32. ‘Report of Sylhet Cachar, 1922,’ in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.),
Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on
Sylhet Bangladesh and Cachar, India. 1886-1955, op. cit., p. 237.
33. Rev. Vanlalchhunga, Marvelous Mission, op cit., p. 156.
34. Interview with Chiro Biswas, aged 71 years, at his Pailapool residence,
12 August 2008.
35. ‘Report of Sylhet Cachar, 1935,’ in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.),
Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on
Sylhet Bangladesh and Cachar, India, 1886-1955, op. cit., p. 366.
36. Goala, op. cit., p. 23.
37. ‘Report of Sylhet Cachar 1920,’ in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.),
Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on
Sylhet Bangladesh and Cachar, India, 1886-1955, op. cit., p. 232.
38. Ibid., p. 233.
39. ‘Report of Sylhet Cachar, 1933,’ in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.),
Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on
Sylhet Bangladesh and Cachar, India. 1886-1955, op. cit., p. 342.
40. Ibid., p. 343.
41. Ibid.
42. Ibid., p. 494.
43. Ibid., p. 89.
44. Ibid., p. 21.
45. Ibid., p. 35
46. Ibid., p. 93.
47. Ibid., p. 21
48. Ibid., p. 40.
49. Ibid., p. 79.
50. Ibid., p. 114.
51. Ibid., p. 125.
52. Barak Samatal Presbyterian Mondalite Mahilader Sebakarjer
Sankhipta Itihas, provide full details.
80 Amol Sinha

53. ‘Report of Sylhet Cachar 1910’, in Rev. Vanlalchhunga Rev (Comp.),

Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on
Sylhet Bangladesh and Cachar, India, 1886-1955, op. cit., pp. 185-6.
54. ‘Report of Sylhet Cachar 1910’, in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.),
Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on
Sylhet Bangladesh and Cachar, India, 1886-1955, op. cit., pp. 185-6.
55. Ibid.
56. ‘Report of Sylhet Cachar 1940’, in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.),
Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on
Sylhet Bangladesh and Cachar, India, 1886-1955, op cit., p. 422.
57. Ibid., p. 427.
58. Ibid., p. 438.
59. Rev. Vanlalchhunga, Marvelous Mission, op. cit., p. 176.
60. ‘Report of Sylhet Cachar 1953’, in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.),
Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on
Sylhet Bangladesh and Cachar, India, 1886-1955, op. cit., p. 480.
61. ‘Report of Sylhet Cachar, 1911’, in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.),
Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on
Sylhet Bangladesh and Cachar, India, 1886-1955, op. cit., p. 160.
62. ‘Report of Sylhet Cachar, 1914’, in Vanlalchhunga Rev (Comp.),
Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on
Sylhet Bangladesh and Cachar, India, 1886-1955, op. cit., p. 195.
63. Rev. Vanlalchhunga, Marvelous Mission, op. cit., p. 121.
64. ‘Report of Sylhet Cachar 1923’, in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.),
Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on
Sylhet Bangladesh and Cachar, India, 1886-1955, op. cit., p. 245.
65. Ibid.
66. ‘Report of Sylhet Cachar 1925’, in Rev. Vanlalchhunga (Comp.),
Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church of Wales on
Sylhet Bangladesh and Cachar, India, 1886-1955, op. cit., p. 246.
67. Goala, op. cit., p. 30.
68. Ibid., p. 19.
69. Ibid., p. 20.
 CHAPTER 3

Missionaries as Stimulus
Interrogating Political Mobilization in
Colonial North-East India

BINAYAK DUTTA

The second decade of the twentieth century marked the beginning

of a long period of flux in world history, when tensions between
armed camps in Europe led to imminent conflagration, resulting
in First World War. This period was remarkable for a wide range
of reasons in anti-colonial India, too, chief among which was
the annulment of the Partition of Bengal in 1911. The Indian
subcontinent was bursting with political activity, with the shadow
of international conflicts casting their own influence on domestic
affairs. When the world was a veritable tinderbox, the West and
the East could hardly remain insulated from one another. In
spite of its reticence, after the 1857 rebellion, in the twentieth
century, Western presence, through its ideas and agencies, seemed
all pervasive and intrusive in this land, especially in the north­
east. Autonomous politics had developed in this region centring
around this Western intrusion and one of the agencies that had
come under scanner were the Christian missionaries. They had
gradually lost their autonomous character in the perception of the
Hindu and Muslim traditionalists, and were perceived to be an
extended arm of the colonial state.
The Balkan War was considered by many historians as a
forewarning of the global conflagration that the world would
witness in 1914. According to David Thomson, ‘The Balkan Wars
left the international scene more enigmatic than before’.1 It was a
situation where the colonial state was pitted against the traditional
elements in Mohammedan society in India, and tempers ran high.
82 Binayak Dutta

Muslim mobilization was attempted on a large scale to enlist

support for Turkey. The missionaries were an easily identified
target of violence and criticism as representatives of the colonial
state and British imperialism. The British attitude in this war
towards Turkey was a cause for increased hostility against the
colonial state.2 In this conflict the missionaries were at the receiving
end being accosted and assaulted in different places.3 Of singular
significance here is the fact that, the other religious communities
were mobilizing their own folk on an anti-missionary plank.
The focus of the present paper is to examine the role that
the missionaries played, through their activities or through ‘per­
ceptions built about them’ in the scheme of political and social
mobilization undertaken by both the Hindu and the Muslim
organizations and individuals in colonial north-east India. The
Christian missionaries became the focal point for community
mobilization discourse in this region for some time in the third
decade of the twentieth century. Politics in the north-east is often
enmeshed in attitudes developed in Bengal over critical issues of
mobilization and community response. This is nowhere more evi­
dent than in the study of community relationships with reference
to the missionaries. The north-east comes out as an unconscious
adjunct of community response and perceptions developed by
contending groups in areas outside the north-east, especially
Bengal. Both in action and perception, the Christian missionar­
ies were viewed as extension of the colonial arm in inaccessible
areas, where cultural reorientation became a conscious substitute
for difficult administration. The rise in missionary influence on
various themes of their interest was perceived to be the result of
conscious encouragement and indulgence of their activities by
the colonial state. In the view of these perceptions and develop­
ments centring around missionary activities in colonial north-east
India, the native ‘other’ articulated his response through Hindu or
Muslim sociocultural mobilization.
An essential element of this missionary centric discourse was,
therefore, a conscious effort at communal mobilization that, in
turn, contributed to rising Hindu-Muslim tensions in this region
in the following years. Therefore, for sometime, the missionaries
 Missionaries as Stimulus 83

acted as a stimulus to commercial mobilization through their

activities and through the perceptions built around them, which
is examined in this paper.

Missionary Activities and Conflict in

Colonial North-east
Political hostilities as an adjunct to social tension were not novel
to colonial north-east India. Proselytization activities by Christian
missionaries ensured the creation of multiple identities in colonial
north-eastern society articulated through Christian and non-
Christian strands in indigenous tribal society. In a polity mired
in anti-colonial movement and rhetoric, this spread of faith by
the Christian missionaries, in a consistent and gradual manner,
helped to rationalize hectic mobilization of their own cadre by the
non-Christian organizations. The mission, in north-east India,
was often assisted by local deprivation and colonial administra­
tion. Though the role of the mission and administration seemed
exclusive, they became often complementary and mutually benefi­
cial. In the past, before 1857, when the colonial state was inclined
towards minimum interference into native and indigenous societ­
ies, penetrative mobilization by the Christian missionaries helped
embolden the tribesmen to question traditional practices and
beliefs of their own society. The rising tensions in traditional soci­
eties were also a pointer to the rapid and determined nature of
missionary activities in the tribal societies of colonial north-east
India. Christianity was transforming social norms and practices
and new practices were set in place to complement the times.4
Though the actual method for rise in numerical strength of
the Christians among the tribesmen was a matter of debate, cen­
sus figures indicate that most conversions took place in those
areas directly under colonial control or administration. Though
the records reveal that in 1901, the number of Christians in this
region were about 3,000-4,000, their number rose to about half a
million in 1951 (5,60,987 in Assam, 68,394 in Manipur and 5,262
Tripura). These rising numbers could be interpreted as evidence
of aggressive proselytization by the Christian missionaries in the
84 Binayak Dutta

early decades of the twentieth century. The cultural and social

changes initiated and effected as a result of this mobilization set­
off reactions among the other religious communities in both the
peripheral tribal and mainstream Indian societies. In Khasi Hills,
that is an example of one of the peripheral societies of Indian sub­
continent in the colonial period, reactions to missionary activities
were extremely strong, though not violent, the most vocal being
the Seng Khasi movement.5 Similar reactions were also set-off in
the Lushai Hills when the missionaries tried to undermine the
authority of the traditional chiefs.6 But a more intense struggle
against the missionaries was launched by followers and organiza­
tions of other religious communities, such as the Hindus and the
Muslims, who were on a lookout for an opportunity to expand
their organizational base in colonial north-east India. Though their
contact and contest with the Christian missionaries were minimal,
they nonetheless aggressively engaged in mobilization activity in
this region on the pretext of offsetting a missionary threat of de­
culturization of people whom they looked upon as their probable
target groups and tentative adherents. This mobilization can be
viewed as a renewal of aggression on the part of the Hindu and
Muslim organizations to crystallize their own community identity
built around communal lines. It was an effort to take control over
an area which, till the second decade of the twentieth century, was
a fluid space in anti-colonial politics. These efforts at communal
mobilization built on ‘perceptions of missionary threat’ are critical
to the construction of communal identity and conflict in colonial
north-east India, for missionary activities were merely a slogan for
Hindu and Muslim mobilization for a conflict of a later age, when
‘missionaries and perceptions built around them’ ceased to be an
issue.

The Missionary as Stimulant

Official reports of this region, traced to post-Khilafat days noted
with concern the tendency of the people to concentrate on
communal interest.7 This mobilization was made even easier by
identifying a threat (real or perceived) to a community existence.
 Missionaries as Stimulus 85

In a charged communal atmosphere where the Hindu and Muslim

leadership began to aggressively campaign to protect respective
communities from any threat, the perception of missionary
threat came in to assist the activities of Tanzeem and Tabligh on
one hand and Shuddhi and Sangathan on the other. Considerable
passions were aroused among the Muslims of this region against
the missionaries with the publication of a leaflet by the Roman
Catholic Church missionaries entitled Satya Dharma Nirupani
(Delineating True Faith). This pamphlet was viewed as an insult
to the Prophet. In Bengal, the publication of this leaflet set-off a
wave of protest, one of the forms of which was a series of articles
in the Mussalman. The Mussalman dated 17 February 1925, and
the Satyagrahi published provocative articles calling upon the
Mussalmans of Bengal and its adjoining region to resist such
insults to Islam and the Prophet. But of singular importance in
this context was the use of this incident as a pretext to appeal for
mobilization of Muslims of eastern Bengal and Assam on the
perception of a missionary effort to insult Islam and threaten the
faith. The Muslim press and the Ulama associated with it were also
seen to present this incident as a deliberate effort of the colonial
state to insult the traditional religions of the subcontinent on one
pretext or the other. The decision of the traditional and the rising
middle class Muslim leadership to agitate this issue as a threat to
the ‘faith’ was a tactful ploy to mobilize their people on an emotive
slogan. The efforts of the traditional leadership at mobilization
were presented as the only viable alternative strength as it lay in
their success at presenting before their followers a conspiratorial
unity of purpose and action between the colonial state and the
missionaries, which was articulated in the Satyagrahi declaring
that, ‘The arrogance of the missionaries would not have gone so
far without the help and indulgence of the missionaries by the
government’.8
While not examining at this point, the validity behind such
claims, the potency of such slogans built around ‘perceptions of
missionary activities’ could not be doubted. It was a clever ploy to
kill two birds with one stone so to say, for it was against the mis­
sionaries as much as it was against the colonial state, and finally
86 Binayak Dutta

fulfilling the aim of communal consolidation mobilization built

on its foundations of threat and hatred. The clever use of print and
the oral mediums represented in ‘publication of appeals’ and street
campaigns as the two pillars of mobilization was a unique style
developed by the Muslim leadership around the emotive issue of
‘perception of missionary threat’. The novelty of this dual tech­
nique was ably put to use in the borderland districts of Bengal and
colonial Assam. One such district was Mymensingh where besides
protest meetings, public subscription was undertaken to generate
funds to prosecute the offenders. ‘Religious emotions’ and ‘threat
to the faith’ were cleverly utilized for communal mobilization.
These efforts at building communal solidarity often spilled over
to Assam where by 1921 there was a sizeable Muslim population.9
Such conflict situation built around ‘perceptions of missionary
threat’ are singularly significant in a study of Muslim mobilization
in the past Khilafat period.
Mobilization on these perceptions were not exclusively an
Islamic preserve. The Hindus who had also engaged in communal
mobilization through Suddhi and Sangathan in north India were
not left wanting in their efforts in colonial north-east India and
the ‘perceptions of missionary threat’ became a convenient tool for
them as well in their mobilizational discourse. Of importance in
this connection were the two organizations, the Hindu Mahasabha
and the Hindu Mission. The Hindu Mission was one of the most
prominent revivalist Hindu organizations, with its headquarters
in Calcutta. By 1926, there was a sudden rush of Hindu revivalist
missionaries to Assam, which was for them a relatively unexplored
region for communal mobilization. The visit of Swami Satyananda,
the manager of the Hindu Mission and Swami Nageshananda,
a preacher of the mission, along with a few junior adherents or
brahmacharis was the first major wave of such Hindu missionar­
ies who came into colonial Assam to offset the Christianization of
indigenous tribes. They visited Dhubri and declaimed against the
proselytization and evangelism of Christian missionaries among
the hill tribes. Though not directly a part of the Hindu Maha­
sabha, their activities greatly contributed to the rise of communal
passion. This development is significant because it was the first
 Missionaries as Stimulus 87

step at Hindu communal mobilization on a large scale in colonial

north-east India, in which ‘perceptions of the missionaries played
an important part’. Swami Satyananda also visited Goalpara, Tez­
pur and Nowgong with the object of raising funds for ‘spreading
Hinduism among the hill tribes’, especially those converted to
Christianity. The team of Hindu Mission also visited Jorhat for the
purpose of ‘converting hill tribes’, especially those converted to
Christianity.10 Swami Satyananda’s visit to Shillong was especially
significant for his lecture on Hindu Sangathan and organiza­
tion. His visit to Tezpur was instrumental in heightening tension
because of his disparaging remarks on other sects and religions.
The Hindu Mission of Calcutta was one of the most important
Hindu organizations which engaged in extensive mobilizations,
the impetus for which came from their perceptions of Christian
missionary activities in North-east India.
The Hindu Mahasabha, also made efforts to make consider­
able intrusion into north-east Indian polity by heightening fears
of Christian missionary evangelism in this region and issues of
conversion of the hill tribes. This Mahasabha programme also
came to be supported by traditional Assamese religious leadership
such as Brindaban Chandra Goswami of Nowgong and Pitambar
Dev Goswami, the head of the Goromur Satra who acted as the
president of the reception committee of the Mahasabha’s All India
Annual Conference of 1926. Adhikar Goswami of Goramur Satra
also toured Sivsagar district and addressed public meetings to
mobilize the Hindus on communal lines.11 In Sylhet, the visit of
Pandit Lakhi Narayan Sastri, a Mahasabha preacher, also inflamed
communal passions.

The Missionary as Pretext

Significantly, an immediate offshoot of this mobilization among
the Hindus and the Muslims was the accentuation of the conflict
between the two communities themselves. Though rallied
around perceptions of missionary threat, the mobilization drives
contributed to crystallization of communal identity for both the
communities. What started off as a diatribe against the Christian
88 Binayak Dutta

missionaries reached a crescendo with Hindu and Muslim

organizations and public at large attacking each other. The issue
of Christian missionaries and their evangelism became buried
and lost with passage of time. It was evident that missionary-
centric discourse was only a ploy and a passing concern for both
communities and the real motive was communal mobilization
among their respective supporters. By the third decade of the
twentieth century, when reinforcement of communal solidarity
and identity was reaching a criticality, the missionaries and
their perceived activities only helped to deepen the battle-lines
drawn between the Hindu and Muslim communities, especially
when community relationships were at a new low. The role of the
press as an active collaborative agent in communal mobilization
was all the more strengthened. A trend that was started by the
Mussalman in its anti-Christian diatribe was continued by the
Muhammadi, dated 17 April 1925, which picked up cudgels
against the Hindu Mahasabha. What started as a campaign against
the Christian missionary conversion of the people of colonial
north-east degenerated into a competition between Hindus and
Muslims to convert the adherents/members/practitioners of either
community. If the Arya Samaj and Hindu Mahasabha proposed to
convert the Muslims and Christian tribesmen alike, the Muslim
Ulama (e.g. Maulana Hussain Ahmed of Sylhet at Sibsagar) also
engaged in collecting subscription to convert Hindus. If the Hindu
Mission worked for Hindu mobilization (Home Poll FR, June
1927, No. 32), the Islam Mission was formed at Shillong with the
sole object of spreading Islam among the Khasi people in 1927.12
The visit of Swami Satyananda to Assam was greatly resented by
the Muslims who formed a Tabligh Committee to ‘safeguard the
internet of Muhammadans in general and to convert Hindus in
particular’.13
As mobilization became more aggressive, the communal rela­
tions were far from cordial. The presence of one group was an
anathema to the other, more so, when the Hindu and the Muslim
organizations were in a keen contest for dominating the same geo­
graphical terrain and enlisting the people in their organizations.
Official reports on communal relations note that Hindu-Muslim
 Missionaries as Stimulus 89

relations were strained and the Mussalman elites were resentful

of the speeches delivered by the Hindu Mission missionaries and
Hindu Mahasabha activists during their mobilization programmes
organized in different urban centers of colonial north-east India.
The visit of Swami Satyananda Saraswati of Hindu Mission Calcutta
and Bhai Paramanand of Hindu Mahasabha created resentment
among the Muslims of this region and in the neighbouring prov­
ince of Bengal. The use of metaphors and mythological stories by
the Hindu Mahasabha leaders to arouse communal passion was
also not lost to either the colonial state or to the Muslim elites who
watched this new aggressive element in Hindu mobilization with
much apprehension. The visit of Pandit Lakhi Narayan Shastri, a
preacher of the All India Hindu Mahasabha to Sylhet, was an event
of great significance. His visit which culminated in a public meet­
ing on the 24 July14 witnessed the Pandit exhorting the Hindus to
worship Goddess Durga and assert themselves. The message of the
Pandit was not lost on the audience who began to interpret the
message as a call to make the Hindu Samaj more aggressive and
militant in their approach to other communities. The Pandit’s mes­
sage to his audience to become worshippers of Shakti in ‘critical
times and set up wrestling schools’ seem to be much in line with
the call of the yogi in Bankim Chandra’s novel Anandamath, which
was a Bible for militant Hinduism in the Indian subcontinent. The
reaction to this message was immediate and equally aggressive with
the audience calling upon Pandit Shastri to guide the people in
turning militant. The immediate result of this vituperation was the
publication of an objectionable pamphlet in Sylhet entitled Rangila
Rasool. Though anonymous, this pamphlet hurt the sentiments of
the Muslims of the region, and thus contributed to aggravating the
communal rancour existing in this southern district of colonial
Assam. This pamphlet which was aimed at defaming the Prophet
of Islam, set-off an outrage among the Muslim elite, led by the local
ulama. A meeting was held in a local mosque at Sylhet, which was
attended by about 700 influential Muslim men of the town, which
called the colonial state to come down heavily on such ‘communal
mischief ’.15 Influential ulama travelled around Assam to campaign
against the tenets of Hinduism which, in turn, led to a launching of
90 Binayak Dutta

counterpropaganda by the Hindu Mahasabha preachers, who set

about their task of converting the Khasis and hence launching an
elaborate fund raising programme. The rhetoric of the Hindu radi­
cal organizations became more beligerant with time. Their main
focus was transformation of the Hindu samaj towards radicalism
and intolerance and the Hindu Mission, Calcutta, and its leader
led the way in Nowgong when he said that ‘India was the kingdom
of Sri Krishna, was the property of the Hindus and that the bulk of
the Mohammedans were only converts from Hinduism and if the
Hindus made an effort, the country would be denuded of Moham­
medans within 10 years’.16
The Mohammedan grassroot leadership of the area struck
back with equal vehemence and one Maulana Nasiruddin set out
on a tour of Upper Assam to campaign against these radical Hindu
organizations. The strength of his campaigns, which took him to
Dibrugarh, Jorhat, Lumding, Nowgong and Gauhati, was such that
it invited violent protests from the Hindu Mahasabha leaders who
objected to his criticism of Hinduism.17 A Tabligh committee was
formed at Goalpara under the leadership of the local MLA, Maulvi
Miznur Rahman to safeguard the interest of the Mohammedans
and to convert the Hindus to Islam.18
In this volatile political situation, two minor incidents at
Dinajpur in Bengal reverted the communal gaze back to the
Christian missions in 1927. The first incident was the caning of
a Santhal boy by a Roman Catholic priest, when he tried to per­
suade some mission hostel students against going to the mission
school or padresalas, as they were coloqually referred to. The sec­
ond incident was the conversion of two Christian women, who
were wives of two Christian gentlemen, during the absence of their
husbands. Both these incidents revived public attention towards
the Christian missionaries, their missions and the aggressive
conversion drive carried on by the Hindu Mahasabha among the
Santhals, along with other tribals of the region.19 While the mis­
sionary action of caning the Santhal boy was quickly denounced,
it became another launchpad for an aggressive mobilization cam­
paign of the Hindu radical organizations and countercampaigns
by the Muslim grassroot organizations in the region. The Assam
 Missionaries as Stimulus 91

Moslem Tabligh conference held in Gauhati devoted the session to

condemn the conversion drive initiated and organized by the Arya
Samaj, Hindu Mission and the Hindu Mahasabha.20 The two com­
munities were moving towards virtual intolerance of each other
as could be seen in the rampant desecration of each other’s wor­
ship places and in their public display of disregard for each other’s
communal sentiments. While serious communal riots broke out at
Digboi over the killing of a cow on the occasion of Bakra Eid,21 a
serious communal confrontation was on the anvil when the Hin­
dus staged a play insulting Prophet Muhammad on the occasion of
Durga Puja, at Sylhet.22 The passage of the Sarda Act which fixed
the age of marriage for girls and its implementation in Assam was
another development which returned communal focus on the
missionaries. The colonial state was yet again seen as an instru­
ment for furthering the Western colonial and missionary agenda
of disregarding customary laws and practices. A printed pamphlet
was issued in the Surma Valley, which called upon the Muslims
of the area to violate the law, in this case the Sarda Act, for being
contrary to the latter and spirit of the Shariat. The Jamiat-ul-ulama
Hind and the Anjuman-e-Hifayate Islam in Sylhet called upon the
faithful to carry out a ‘religious war’ against the colonial state.23
In all these conflicts, one can witness a text and a subtext. On the
face of it the ‘other’ was the enemy, which not only set the stage for
communal conflicts in Assam, but occasionally became the imme­
diate stimulant of a conflict situation. This imagined force was the
Christian missionaries. The sustained campaigns of the missions
that had set-up schools and colleges, hospitals and orphanages in
the tribal areas were sufficient stimulants for the Hindu communal
organization to launch a sustained campaign in the tribal areas
with renewed vigour. If the colonial state attitude assisted the mis­
sionaries, in these hills, the non-Christian, non-state communal
organizations such as the Assam provincial Hindu Sabha began
to work on their grassroots contacts to expand their support base.
Display of demographic strength was an important step towards
ensuring a powerful political negotiating position in colonial state,
when the negotiations for constitutional change and community
representations in government were going on in the run-up to the
92 Binayak Dutta

Government of India Act, 1935. By 1931, new census reports for

India were due. The Hindu Sabha worked hard to influence the
grassroots government officers, such as the mauzadars, to have the
hills men of Assam, such as the Khasis, Garos, Lushais and even
the Mishmis, enumerated as Hindus in the coming census.24 With
constitutional reforms looming on the horizon, communal anta­
gonism reached new heights. Assertion of communal identity and
expansion of demographic strength on communal lives was seen
by the Hindus and Muslims as an asset at the negotiating table.
Conversely, any effort that led to the dwindling of the communal
demographic strength was taken most unkindly. Thus, in Assam,
efforts by the Christian missionaries to increase the number of
Christians resulted in tension and led to communal violence. Thus
it was of little surprise that conversion of Mohammedans into the
Christian faith in Habibganj subdivision of the Sylhet district of
Assam resulted in communal tension between the Christian con­
verts and the Mohammedan community.25
However, as part of these demographic struggles that domi­
nated socio-political mobilization in this frontier region of
colonial India, perception of a missionary threat resulted in a
cumulative introspection among the upper caste Hindus about the
causes for the success of Christian proselytization in this region. It
is as a result of this exercise that the upper caste Hindu leadership
and their institutional heads identified untouchability as a major
drawback in Hindu society, one which facilitated the spread of
Christianity or Islam among the Hindus belonging to the lower
castes. In an age where numbers were important, the upper caste
Hindus were woken up with a rude shock, when, in 1931, in a
meeting organized at the Sunamganj Town Hall on 23 June, a large
meeting of lower caste Hindus, predominantly Namasudras and
Patnis, threatened to go out of the Hindufold, if their social condi­
tions were not improved.26 By 1933, the untouchability question
was openly debated in the public sphere in Assam. The importance
of this debate lay in the fact that it also revived the focus of Hindu
leadership on the issue of the conversion of Hindus in general in
this region to both Christianity and Islam. It was thus in tune with
this position that the Goramur Satra Gossain held several meet­
 Missionaries as Stimulus 93

ing at a number of locations in the Darang district to discuss the

untouchability question.27 This campaign gradually spread to other
areas of Assam, where the Goramur Gossain led this movement
vigorously. In Nowgong he held a series of meetings. The vigour of
the campaign could be gauged from the fact that, as a result of his
campaign in about 25 villages near his Satra, the villagers agreed to
hold a religious meeting and some religious ceremonies with the
untouchables and partake of food with them.28 The news of these
meetings of the Goramur Gossain reached other regions of India;
the highlight of this new social movement was the visit of the sec­
retary of the All India Anti-untouchability league to Assam and
his meetings at Nowgong and Sibsagar districts. But this was only
a short-lived movement, as it ultimately contributed to increas­
ing the conflicts and hostilities in this region between various
communities. While the Muslims and Hindus were already at log­
gerheads, the lower castes joined in to aggravate the hostilities in
this volatile situation, an example of which was the brutal assault
of the manager of the Juthibari Tea Estate in Lakhimpur district,
and the defence of the accused, an untouchable by the Goramur
Gossain.

Conclusion
Though not exclusively devoted to studying evangelism by
Christian missionaries, this narrative, tries to construct a picture
of socio-political mobilization in colonial north-east India. The
effort is to draw attention to the centrality of the perception of
Christian evangelism or perception of missionary threat as a slogan
for mobilization of Hindu and Muslim communities in the region
under study. While it is observed that issues of Christian evangelism
receded into oblivion in the path of communal mobilization, with
the passage of time, its importance in generating a momentum to
Muslim and Hindu mobilization in this colonial peripheral region
cannot be undermined. In their rush to extend their influence
on their coreligionists in this region, both communities rode the
tide of popular emotions evoked out of the articulation of anti-
Christian rhetoric. While it was evident that the supertext was
94 Binayak Dutta

the tussle for hegemony fought by the Hindus and Muslims for
the contested north-eastern colonial space, Christian evangelism
becomes a convenient tool for weaving communal emotions by
both communities. While Christian missionary mobilization is
an interesting story, they emerge more as an victim of Hindu-
Muslim machineries in this region when mobilization on the
rhetoric of religion and threat from missionaries contributed to
the consolidation of communal identity among the Hindus and
Muslims alike. In this sense the Christian missionaries were
merely a stimulus for the two dominant communities of Indian
subcontinent and once the mobilization was complete they were
conveniently forgotten or ignored and the Hindus and the Muslim
organizations and leaders went back to fighting each other in this
marginal land. Though peripheral in political and geographical
terms, the north-east represented a contested space in the
crucial third decade of the twentieth century, and in this contest,
missionaries of all hues played a prominent role.

Notes
1. ‘The Balkan Wars left the international scene more enigmatic than
before’, author name??, Europe Since Napoleon, Penguin Books,
London, 1990, p. 475.
2. Report of the Director, Criminal Intelligence, No. 88, November
1912, National Archives of India, (henceforth NAI).
3. Ibid.
4. See the discussion on the changing social norms and practices of the
Khasi and Jaintia society and efforts by the colonial state to induce
settlements between the traditional and Christian elements of these
Tribunal societies,
5. For greater detail, see Sharmila Das Talukdar, Khasi Cultural
Resistance to Colonialism, Spectrum Publishers, Guwahati, 2004
and S.K. Chaube, Hill Politics in North East India, Orient Blackswan,
Hyderabad, 2012, p. 645.
6. Ibid., p. 67.
7. Home Political Fortnightly Report, September 1924, NAI.
8. Home Political Fortnightly Report, April 1925, NAI.
9. Ibid., (Assam).
 Missionaries as Stimulus 95

10. Home Political, File No. 112–IV/1926 (Assam), January 1926, NAI.
11. Home Political Fortnightly Report No. 32/1927 (Assam), NAI.
12. S. De, et al., Political History of Assam, vol. II, p. 303.
13. National Archives of India (NAI), Assam, July 1927, NAI.
14. Ibid., August 1927, NAI.
15. Ibid.
16. Ibid., June 1927, NAI.
17. Ibid., August 1927, NAI.
18. Ibid., October 1927, NAI.
19. Home Political Fortnightly Report, July 1927, NAI.
20. Ibid.
21. Home Political Fortnightly Report (Assam), May 1930, NAI.
22. Ibid., November 1931, NAI.
23. Ibid., May 1930, NAI. Also see Home Political Fortnightly Report,
April 1925, for similar reactions, that had become much popular
by 1925 in the initial years of the Anti-Missionary Movement and
which was revived again by 1930.
24. Home Political Fortnightly Report (Assam), November 1930, NAI.
25. Ibid., December 1934, NAI.
26. Ibid., July 1931, NAI.
27. Ibid., March 1933, NAI.
28. Ibid., June 1933, NAI.
 CHAPTER 4

The Coming of the Grace of the Christ

The Christian Baptist Missionaries and the
Construction of Hindu Identity in Assam:
c.1840-1900

BIPUL CHAUDHURY

May this beautiful expanse of water, long since dedicated to the

heathen deity but now consecrated to the service of Christ, be often
thus honoured by the footsteps of willing converts.
miles bronson about Sibsagar in 18411

We have, I believe, only a few over 100 Assamese members after

more than 60 years of faithful labors on the part of a good number
of foreign missionaries appointed to that work. The comparison
shows where God wants us to use our strength and our means.
rev. c.e. petrick, 18992

The contributions of the American Baptist missionaries towards

the growth of modern ideas and institutions in the province of
Assam are immense. They not only acted as one of the key vehicles
for the interaction of the East and the West along with the colonial
state but also helped directly and indirectly towards the growth of
the modern Assamese identity. It was the pioneering efforts of the
Christian missionaries that the foundation of the modern Assamese
language was laid with their publication of the translation of the
Bible in 1813 and the first Assamese newsmagazine, the Arunodoi,
in 1846. The missionary activities in the province were also an
experiment in cultural anthropology and colonial ethnography in
which the West tried to view the East as its ‘other’.
The present paper tries to highlight the initial efforts of the
98 Bipul Chaudhury

missionaries to understand the varied and complex nature of the

Hindu rituals and manners that were practiced in the province.
In fact, they were aware of the diverse nature of Hindu religion
and this applied to all parts of the country where they had tried
evangelization. Interestingly, what the missionaries ultimately did
was to construct a new identity of the religion and this later helped
in the growth of nationalism in the province. The issue of language
played the central role in the growth of nationalism by the latter
half of the nineteenth century. In other words, in their effort to
promote Christianity the missionaries ultimately helped to cre­
ate virtually a monolithic idea of Hinduism where it was none in
the province and a large section of the people were still under the
process of Sanskritization.3 This missionary construction was also
utilized by the colonial state and the indigenous elites, which later
created the problem of ethnic assertions in the state.4 The recent
debates on the ‘civilizing mission of the West’ have added a new
dimension to this issue.5 The term ‘Hindu’ is to be utilized to denote
not a particular creed but a wide ranging spectrum of beliefs and
practices with certain shared ideals like caste and purity. It will
also emphasize the gendered aspect of conversion.
The focus of the paper will be centred upon the Brahmaputra
Valley due to the availability of more sources both in the English
and in the Assamese language. But, at the same time it must be
pointed out that the sources basically belonged to the missionary
side, as the contemporary Assamese elite virtually did not respond
through the print medium.

Early Colonial Assamese Society and the Missionaries

In order to understand the contribution of the missionaries towards
the growth of modern ideas in the province, it is very important
to look at the status of the Assamese society, which also shaped
their mindsets in many cases. Here, apart from the missionary
journals and contemporary British and Assamese accounts, the
first Assamese news magazine, the Arunodoi, is very important.
The Assamese society was gradually recovering from the socio­
economic and political chaos started from the later Ahom period
 The Coming of the Grace of the Christ 99

and the British rule provided the breathing ground but it required
a longer period of recovery.
It was the colonial state that welcomed the American Baptist
missionaries into the province with the expectation that along
with their evangelical works they will also impart some basic ideas
of modernity among the natives. Henry Hopkins, the Assistant
Commissioner, categorically stated this in 1865 as,
At present we take very little from the Assamese, and we do very little for
him. We do not intercept the bounty of nature on one hand, on the other
hand we do not lead him to look for more than the nature provides, place
him in communication with the outer world, and put him in the way of
acquiring new material wants; the result is that he remains an indolent,
sensual and non-progressive being.6

Regarding religion, the colonial state’s attitude was guided by

practical realities of the time. In order to retain the support of the
priestly classes it continued the policy of land grants followed by
the earlier rulers. This is quite interesting when in the second half
of the nineteenth century a series of agrarian riots swept a large
part of the province against the repeated enhancement of land
revenue.7 This class obviously in return remained very loyal to the
colonial state with few exceptions.8 A large amount of revenue-free
lands were in the possession of the various satras (an institution
associated with the neo-Vaishnavite movement in the province)
and temples till the very end of the colonial rule.9
The missionaries had to make some primary research in order
to know the existing system of the Hindu religion in the valley.
Their sources were both oral and written, collected from different
parts of the province. This in itself was not a small achievement
as against the overwhelming odds of communication, inclement
weather, and non-cooperation of a large section of the people
towards their enterprises. Moreover, the Assamese language at that
time was not standardized and the people used different dialects.
It was through the laborious effort of the missionaries that the first
concrete method of language standardization was utilized in the
Assamese. They did the same regarding the many other communi­
ties in the province like the Bodos and the Mishings.
100 Bipul Chaudhury

Brahmins and the Missionaries

It was the colonial state, which in the process of understanding
the Indian knowledge system relied upon the Brahmins and the
qazis from the later decades of the eighteenth century. The Asiatic
Society of Bengal and the Sanskrit College at Benares are examples
of this. But as Vasudha Dalmia has pointed out, by the middle of
the nineteenth century, with the administrative consolidation of
the subcontinent and growing sense of British might this reliance
upon the traditional authorities began to decline.10 In other
words, the Orientalist’s knowledge now entered a new phase of
identity where it had to be modified by ‘superior’ or ‘scientific’
European knowledge system. Instead of the Brahmins, the
European Indologists in particular, like Max Müller, became more
acceptable authorities in the eyes of the colonial state as well as to
a large section of the educated Hindus. Here the question of racial
superiority also played a determining impact in understanding the
knowledge systems of the Eastern societies. Although it helped the
colonial project of hegemony over the rest it also created several
confusions. The American Baptist missionaries in colonial Assam
provided several examples of these contradictions during their
interactions, particularly with the native intellectuals.
The missionaries, through their primary research, came to the
knowledge that Hinduism in Assam was basically divided on the
Vaishnavite and the Shakta lines, both dominated by the priestly
classes. While the latter was the follower of Shiva with innumer­
able god and goddesses, the former followed only one god, Vishnu.
There were several diversities among the followers regarding ritu­
alistic principles. To the missionaries these rituals were nothing
other than superstitions instituted by the Brahmanical ideology to
perpetuate their domination. They became very optimistic at the
prospect that once the people could be shown the rightful path,
their task would be quite easier to confront the priestly domina­
tion.
The Christian missionaries from the very outset tried to criti­
cize the scriptural authority of the Brahmins in order to show the
superiority of Christianity. But, the problem for the missionaries
 The Coming of the Grace of the Christ 101

was that they had no other alternatives than seeking the support
of the Brahmanical elites in getting access to the Hindu scriptural
texts. In fact, it was Atmaram Sharma, a converted Assamese
Brahmin, who was engaged by the Baptist missionaries from
Serampore in Bengal before launching their operation in the
province to critically engage with the limited literate class, mainly
Brahmins.11 Although the newly emerging intellectuals from the
Assamese middle class, like Anandaram Dhekial Phukan, Guna­
bhiram Barooah and Hemchandra Barooah, gave full support to
some of the socio-cultural reform initiatives of the missionaries
like the unequal status of the Assamese women and promotion
of education, they had no wish to convert themselves. In fact, the
attitude of the contemporary Assamese society was so against the
progressive attitudes of these people that they and their family
members had to face social boycott.
The missionaries followed two methods of confrontation
against the Brahmanical hegemony, first they would directly
engage in debates, with the priests who were prepared to do so,
about the relative superiority of the two religions. Second, if this
method failed they would try the indirect method of distributing
propaganda literature among the followers. They also utilized the
platform of their news magazine, the Arunodoi, to advance the
cause of evangelization.
The Arunodoi, which apparently seems quite mild in its treat­
ment of the Hindu religion, was in closer scrutiny not quite so. It
published two poems written by Nidhi Levy Farewell about the
Kamakhya Temple (in Guwahati) criticizing many of the religious
malpractices prevalent in them. The contemporary society did not
respond to it and the validity of the criticisms was further testified
later by a Brahmo preacher, Ramkumar Vidyaratna, in his Udashin
Satyasrabar Assam Bhraman.12 The Arunodoi, in several instances,
used the term of a single creator or God quite contrarily to the
beliefs practised by a large section of the Assamese Hindus.
One of the interesting features of the interaction between
the native Brahmins and the missionaries was the absence of any
written response from the former. The missionaries would have
liked to take that challenge with their superiority over modern
102 Bipul Chaudhury

techniques like printing. A few Brahmins were appointed by the

missionaries for the purpose of translation, and they showed no
interest for conversion. As a result, the contest remained one-sided
and the Brahmins remained the acknowledged masters over the
Hindu religious affairs. Since the common people also accepted
the scriptural authority of the priests, the missionaries had to
content themselves by criticizing some socio-religious practices
prevalent in the society. Moreover, the missionaries failed to pro­
vide any major intellectual challenge to the native Brahmins, as
they themselves, were opposed to several aspects of modernity like
the women’s rights movement which challenged many aspects of
the biblical authority.
The missionaries’ problem became graver as the colonial state
also patronized the satras and temples by granting a large amount
of revenue-free land grants in order to obtain their support. Miles
Bronson, for example, while referring to the priests lands in Nag­
aon, remarked:
This one act of government has turned out to be the main prop of Hindu­
ism. The people infer that the government favours the priests above all
others in the country, because they are worthy. The priests themselves
well know how to turn this matter to the extension of their own avari­
cious aims and self-aggrandizement. From these people arise our greatest
obstacles.13

Compared to this governmental patronage the missionaries

received no financial assistance from the colonial state. They had to
depend exclusively upon the limited funds from the United States
and the mission lacked sufficient manpower to handle the situa­
tion properly. It was the determination of Nathan Brown, which
saved the situation in the late 1950s when the American sponsors
felt that the mission in the province should be abandoned.14 The
Arunodoi was also not yielding sufficient profits to stay on.15

Missionaries and the Issue of Caste

One of the important characteristics of the Hindu religion is the
caste system. The missionaries as well as a section of colonial
officials were very much aware of the system, but they failed to
 The Coming of the Grace of the Christ 103

critically engage with the intricacies of the system in most cases.

This was a very important problem for the missionaries as they
failed to see various diversities or dynamics of the system. In fact,
the issue of conversion also had the added problem of exclusion
from the patrilocal society, which acted as a major obstacle to
the missionaries. In other words, unless conversion did not offer
any higher social status it attracts lesser people and this is clearly
mentioned by Mr Baine’s in the Census Report of India, 1891.16
A major issue that the missionaries had to confront while
dealing with the question of caste was the process of Sanskrit­
ization that was steadily developing among a large section of the
people who now tried to assert their higher status in the society.
B.C. Allen, the census officer noted this phenomenon in his Census
Report of the province in 1901.17
One of the important aspects, the missionaries soon came
to realize was the prevalence of some occult practices among a
section of the Assamese people that were not sanctioned by ortho­
dox Hinduism. For example, the practice of Ratikhowa which
was prevalent in many parts of upper Assam where the follow­
ers gathered together at particular nights to dine as well as drink
irrespective of caste and religion.18 Another important example
was of the Nath Jogis who had many religious practices distinct
from orthodox Hinduism and yet they did not show any inclina­
tion towards the idea of conversion. The missionaries obviously
felt certain that these people could easily be converted. But, this
hope of the missionaries was belied against the forces of tradi­
tion. Moreover, by the 1960s, Assam was visited by some Bengali
preachers advocating the Sri Chaitanya and the Brahmo doctrines
which influenced a section of the native Hindus. In fact, educated
Assamese elites were very much aware of the latest developments
of the Bengal Renaissance and this, too, provided an obstacle to
the missionary agenda.
The difference of race, language and culture in most cases
worked against the missionary enterprise in the valley. In fact,
their resemblance and cooperation with the white ruling class
made many people suspicious of the missionary enterprises. To
the majority of the educated natives, the missionary efforts of edu­
cation and language were acceptable but not any interference with
104 Bipul Chaudhury

their religion and tradition. A.K. Gurney, a missionary, reported

in frustration,
In fact, they have an accommodating theory that all religions are true. It
is as you think it, they often say: Christianity is true, so is Hindooism, so
is Mohammedanism. I regard Hinduism as true; you regard Christian­
ity as true.… For the Europeans Christianity is good; for the Hindoo,
Hindooism.19

They had nearly the same experiences amongst the majority

of the tea garden workers who were recent immigrants into the
province.
The idea of caste and class were so deep rooted in contempo­
rary Assamese society that even the limited number of converts
followed it in most cases. Richard M. Easton has shown in the
context of the Naga’s how even after their conversion into Christi­
anity they were following many of the traditional practices. They
made an interesting compromise with their traditional practices
and the Christianity preached by the missionaries.20 Similar expe­
riences were echoed by Mrs P.H. Moore, a missionary, regarding
the Lalung or the Tiwa (who basically reside in the Nagaon and
Marigaon districts of the province as well as in the adjoining
regions) converts in the valley.21

Missionaries and the Assamese Women

In the construction of the image of the modern Assamese women,
the missionaries played a prominent role. The missionaries in their
critique against Hinduism made the Indian women a major target
of intervention and tried to show that the status of these women
was inferior to the Christian (Western) women. But, it was very
difficult to directly get access to the women of the higher class
and caste without the support of the men who, in turn, had, in
most cases, no wish to expose their women to the missionaries.
The frustration of the Baptist missionaries regarding the Assamese
women was clearly expressed by a female missionary, Orel Keller,
in these words, ‘It is of no use to talk to us; our husbands can
understand these things, but we can’t learn to read, we have no
souls!’22
 The Coming of the Grace of the Christ 105

Limitations of the Missionary Agenda

One of the prime factors for the failure of the missionary agenda
of conversion in the valley was that they were trying beyond
their means. It was physically impossible to tackle a religion like
Hinduism with only a few persons however devoted they might
be and who were at the same time foreigners. Abbe J.A. Dubois
had clearly pointed out this problem in the context of south
India, which is also applicable in the Brahmaputra Valley.23 The
caste system that is an integral part of Hinduism posed a very
important obstacle against the missionaries. The missionaries
were also not free from many of the existing caste and class
prejudices themselves. The Arunodoi itself mentions in several
instances the word itar to designate a section of the lower caste as
was the practice of the time. As a result, many of their criticisms
against Hinduism more or less conformed to the existing caste
system and failed to tap a large section of the people who were
still undergoing the process of Sanskritization. The missionaries,
themselves, were aware of this limitation and from around 1855
they seriously began to consider the neighbouring Hill areas as
their possible targets of evangelizations. In this respect they began
to get some positive response from the latter half of the nineteenth
century. But the missionaries were not complete failures as they
gained some success among a section of the tribal and tea garden
workers who were brought into the province by the tea planters.

Conclusion
The greatest difficulty that the missionaries felt in India, as a whole,
while tackling Hinduism was the ‘intellectual’ challenge posed by
the Hindu elites. Colonial Assam was also no exception to this
and here the Brahmins, both of the Shakta and the Vaishnavite
fold, equally participated with zeal. Their critique of the Hindu
religion helped the native elites to relook at and reform many of
the existing beliefs and practices. They also began to utilize the
newly emerging printing press. The reaction was spontaneous as
the Auniati Satra published the second Assamese news magazine
Assam Bilashini to counter the charge against the critique as well as
106 Bipul Chaudhury

to reorganize the religion. The Brahmanical classes were the first to

understand the utilities of the higher education and as Monorama
Sharma has pointed out, the satras, particularly the Auniati,
sponsored scholarships to a section of the Assamese students.24
Assamese elites, like Lakshminath Bezbaruah, consequently
became leading advocates of neo-Vaishnavism in the Brahmaputra
Valley and the figure of Sankardeva, the pioneer of the movement,
received a facelift, sealing the prospects of the missionaries. In
fact, it can be said that the missionaries came at such a period
when the process of Sanskritization was in full swing among
a majority of the people in the valley who had to gain no social
hierarchy through conversion. The administrative unification
under the British colonial regime and the development in the field
of communication and economic opportunities along with the
developments of the Bengal Renaissance brought the people closer
to the development of new identity and here Hinduism played a
great role. It is also important to observe that while the Assamese
nationalists utilized in many ways the missionary-defined identity
as their own, it never became communal or sectarian.

Notes
1. Maheshwar Neog (ed. & Comp.), The ‘Orunodoi’ 1846-1854,
Publication Board Assam, Guwahati, 1983-2003, p. 82. Also see, E.A.
Brown, The Whole World Kin: A Pioneer Experience among Remote
Tribes and Other Labours of Nathan Brown, Philadelphia, 1890,
pp. 352-3.
2. H.K. Barpujari (ed.), The American Missionaries and North-East
India (1836-1900), Spectrum Publication, Guwahati, 1986, p. 220.
3. The term ‘Sanskritization’ is used in the context of the paper to
show the trends among the educated natives to move forward in the
caste and class hierarchy in a generalized form in the lines of M.N.
Srinivas. He first coined it in his book Religion and Society among the
Coorgs of South India, Oxford University Press, 1952. In fact, there
are questions posed by several scholars to apply it uniformly in a
diverse context like India. Yet, the term, in spite of criticisms and
seemingly old fashioned, helps us to understand the Indian situation
 The Coming of the Grace of the Christ 107

in a generalized way, which was also observed by a section of the

colonial officials.
4. For example, the Bodo movement heavily relied upon the
ethnographic account of Reverend Endle’s, The Kacharis, published
in 1911. This also applied to the Thengal Kachari’s movement for
autonomy in the later decades of the twentieth century where the
issues of language and dialect played central roles. This shows
the dominance of the notions in Western written accounts which
are perceived as more authentic among a section of the people of
Assam, even for asserting their particular ethnic causes and values.
Obviously, a majority of the colonial accounts were biased and
prepared by officials who had no training in conducting research.
Yet, due to the absence of written records among a large section of
the people, they continued their dominance.
5. The growth of post-colonial approach in Indian historiography has
repeatedly questioned the notion of the Western knowledge system
in the country in the wake of the interactions of the West and the
East. Ranajit Guha has argued that the British colonial state in India
exercised dominance but not hegemony, and the Indian people
did not always appropriate the Western knowledge system without
questioning its practical utilities in the Indian environment. For
details, see, Ranajit Guha, Dominance Without Hegemony, Oxford
University Press, New Delhi, 1999. Lata Mani has further argued
about the issues on conversion and the moral issues involved in it in
her book, Unfolding the Mask, Oxford University Press, New Delhi,
2003.
6. H.K. Barpujari (ed.), The Comprehensive History of Assam, vol. V,
Publication Board Assam, Guwahati, 1993, p. 15.
7. For details see Debabrata Sarma, Asomiya Jatigathan Prakriya
Aru Jatiya Janagosthigata Anusthan Samuh (Assamese Nationality
Construction Process and the Role played by the National and
Ethnic Organizations in it), Jorhat, 2006, pp. 574-7.
8. Ibid., pp. 96-104.
9. Ibid., pp. 574-8.
10. For details see Vasudha Dalmia, ‘Sanskrit Scholars and Pundits of
the Old School: The Banaras Sanskrit College and the Constitution
of Authority in the Late Nineteenth Century’, in Orienting India:
European Knowledge Formation in the Eighteenth and Nineteenth
Centuries, Three Essays Collective, New Delhi, 2003, pp. 29-52.
108 Bipul Chaudhury

11. For details see Neog, op. cit., pp. 68-81.

12. For details see Kanailal Chattopadhyay (ed.), Assame Cha Kuli
Andolan O Ramkumar Vidyaratna, Papyrus, Kolkata, 1989.
13. For details see Barpujari, The Comprehensive History of Assam,
vol. V, p. 7. The attitudes of a section of colonial officials towards
the satras can be clearly seen in the accounts of Capt. E.T. Dalton,
Political Assistant Commissioner in charge of Kamrup, titled, ‘Notes
on the “Mahapurushyas”, a sect of Vaishnavas in Assam’, published
in the Journal of the Asiatic Society, no. VI, 1851. Also see, Anil
Raichoudhury, Asomar Samaj-Itihasot Nava-Vaishnavbad, (The Role
of the Neo Vaishnavite Movement in the Social History of Assam) (in
Assamese), Guwahati, 2000, pp. 191-206.
14. Barpujari, op. cit., p. 204.
15. For details see Francis E. Clark, ‘Do Foreign Missions Pay?’, The
North American Review, vol. 166, no. 496 (March 1898), University
of Northern Iowa Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/25118965
accessed on 20-12-2018 07:04 UTC, pp. 268-80. For its impacts
upon the missionary families see Harriette Bronson Gunn, In a
Far Country (first published in the USA in 1911), reprinted in 2017
(edited with an Introduction by Prasanta Das, Guwahati).
16. For details see H.K. Beauchamp’s preface in Abbe J.A. Dubois, Hindu
Manners, Customs and Ceremonies (1906), Low Price Publications,
Delhi, 1999, p. xxvii.
17. B.C. Allen, Census Report of Assam 1901, vol. I, p. 63.
18. For details see, Barpujari, op. cit., pp. 209-10.
19. Barpujari, ibid., pp. 214-17.
20. For details see Richard M. Eaton, Essays on Islam and Indian History,
Oxford University Press, New Delhi, 2000, pp. 45-75.
21. For details see P.H. Moore, Twenty Years in Assam, Indian rpt.,
Spectrum Publication, Guwahati, 1989, p. 79. Also see, Nellie G.
Prescott, The Baptist Family in the Foreign Mission Field, Philadelphia,
1926.
22. For details see Barpujari, op. cit.
23. For details see Beauchamp, op. cit., pp. xxv-vi. Interestingly, Abbe
J.A. Dubois had very high regard for Brahmins as repositories of
sacred knowledge and did not favour their conversion.
24. Monorama Sarma, Social and Economic Change in Assam: Middle
Class Hegemony, Ajanta, New Delhi, 1990, pp. 9-11.
 CHAPTER 5

Colonialism and Christian Missions in

North-East India
DAVID REID SYIEMLIEH

Colonialism and Missionaries

The connection between the colonial administrator and the
missionary in north-east India has been little understood. It is not
possible in this essay to study the complete details of how these
two agencies came to operate in the region and the interplay and
interaction between them. The presentation will make an attempt
to critique the connection. It is not intended to do a detailed study
of any one mission in any one area of the region and its connection
with the administrative machinery here. It will make an effort to
critically examine the colonial connection with Christian missions
and Christianity in the region with emphasis on the official policy
towards Christian missions. The discussion will cover a wide span
in time between 1822 and 1947.
North-east India was brought under British colonial rule in
stages through the nineteenth century. Colonial sub-imperialism,
the extension of existing European possessions to expand into
their influence,1 started with the annexation in 1822 of the Garo
foothills alongside Mymensing and Goalpara. Then followed the
annexation of Assam in March 1826 after the defeat of Burma and

*Colonialism and Christian Missions in North East India, First

Yajashree Roy Memorial Lecture, North East India Studies Programme,
Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi, March 2013. Reprinted from
original with permission from the author.
110 David Reid Syiemlieh

the signing of the Treaty of Yandaboo. Thereafter followed British

political control over the Khasis after their defeat in the Anglo-
Khasi War of 1829-33. Cachar was then annexed in 1832 and the
Jaintia kingdom lost its independence in 1835. Upper Assam which
had been returned to Purandhar Sinha, the Ahom ruler in 1833,
was again taken over in 1838 after he failed to meet British expec­
tations. Annexations continued unabated despite Queen Victoria’s
assurance in her Proclamation of 1858 that there would be no
further annexation under the new dispensation. What remained
for the British to annex and to round off the empire in these parts
were the hills of present day Arunachal Pradesh, the Naga and
the erstwhile Lushai Hills. By the last quarter of the nineteenth
century, the Nagas were brought under British rule. Similarly, the
Lushais inhabiting what is today Mizoram were brought under
colonial rule in the last decade of the nineteenth century. 2 Within
this same period of time the 25 Khasi states, Manipur and Tripura
were brought under British political control through treaties and
subjugation. The hills that today constitute Arunachal Pradesh
and a small area inhabited by Naga tribes and referred to as Naga
Tribal Area were in principle outside British India.
The districts in the Brahmaputra and Barak Valley were
administered in the same manner as other Indian districts in the
mainland. The administration of the hill districts was different.
They were referred to as backward tracts prior to the Government
of India Act, 1919. The 1935 Government of India Act changed
the nomenclature for the tribal areas. The hills were categorized
as either Excluded or Partially Excluded Areas. The Excluded
Areas, which included the Naga and the Lushai Hills districts,
were placed under the executive control of the Assam governor.
The Partially Excluded Area including the Garo, Khasi-Jaintia and
the Mikir Hills districts came under the control of the governor
and subject to ministerial administration, but the governor had an
overriding power when it came to exercising his discretion. No act
of the Assam or Indian legislatures could apply to these two hill
divisions unless the governor so directed. He was empowered to
make regulations for the hill districts which had the force of law.
The administration of these hills was his ‘special responsibility’.
 Colonialism and Christian Missions in North-East India 111

With no representatives in the Assam assembly (other than the

Partially Excluded Areas, which sent one legislator each), political
activity, above their village and local level, could only just have
existed. This brief note on the administration of the region will
explain why the colonial administration in distancing itself from
direct administration came under criticism, as will be mentioned,
in the manner the hills were administered.3
Christianity came into the region before British colonization
of India. The history of Christianity in north-east India goes back
to when Jesuit priests Stephan Cacella and John Cabral first entered
the Brahmaputra Valley in 1626 intending to go on to Tibet and
China. Assam had no attraction for them.4 Then followed the pas­
toral visits by Augustinian and Holy Cross priests to the several
Indo-Portuguese settlements at Rangamati located on the frontier
of Bengal with Assam, Bondashill in Cachar and Mariamnagar in
Tripura. Bishop Laynes of Mylapore accompanied by Fr Barbier
called on the Rangamati settlers on the easternmost frontier of the
Mughal empire in 1714.5 Tripura abuts on Bengal. Augustinian
and Holy Cross priests from East Bengal often visited Catholics
in the village of Mariamnagar close to Agartala. The earliest visit
of a Christian to this native state was that of Fr Ignatius Gomes in
1683. Several priests ministered to the Christians of Mariamnagar
in the second half of the nineteenth century and after.6 These visits
were occasional and did not establish in any substantial way the
Catholic influence in the region other than their pastoral func­
tions.
Catholic priests were operating in the region prior to the East
India Company foundations of formal empire. It is to be noted
that though the Catholics were the first among the Christian mis­
sions to have entered the region they were to be amongst the last
to make an involvement in the establishment of their faith. In large
part, the reason for this delay was the indecision of the church
authorities as to which of its foreign missions should be entrusted
the task of the evangelization in the region.7 The consequences of
this delay and indecision would affect the Catholic position and
gave a distinct advantage to the Protestant missions in setting up
churches in the region.
112 David Reid Syiemlieh

It may be said that the flag representing the colonial adminis­

tration and the Bible representing one or the other of the Christian
missions went almost together into the north-east. This happened
after the Charter Act of 1813 which permitted missionaries to
propagate their faith in British India. The English Baptists were
quick to take advantage of this by establishing missions in Gauhati
and Cherrapunji in the early part of the nineteenth century. Unable
to sustain their interest they welcomed the American Baptist Mis­
sion whose first missionaries arrived in Assam in 1836. When
Alexander Lish of the same English Baptist Mission at Serampore
gave up Cherrapunji8 the mission work there was left unattended
for many years. The Welsh Calvinistic Methodist Foreign Mission
(later called Welsh Presbyterian Mission) was established in 1840.
Jacob Tomlin, a missionary of the London Missionary Society
who had visited these hills, urged the new mission to take these
hills as their mission field. A generous offer to finance the travel
of the first missionary enabled the mission to make the decision.
Their first missionary, Thomas Jones, was convinced that were he
to become a missionary it would be to India where he would go.
His arrival at Cherrapuni in the monsoon of 1841 did not require
official permission, as the Khasi Hills were not part of the colonial
state, though it was politically subdued as a consequence of the
Anglo-Khasi war of 1829-33.9
It is at about this stage of British colonial interest in the
region that their administrators encouraged and supported the
work of the Christians missionaries. David Scott, commissioner,
approached his government as early as 1819 for its approval to
invite missionaries to work among the Garos. He first wrote to the
English Baptist Mission in Serampore. Failing to get their coopera­
tion he wrote to Bishop Heber at Calcutta. The Bishop’s response
was encouraging for Scott though nothing concrete took shape.
Scott then made another request to government in April 1825.
Governments did not think there would be any difficulty to extend
financial assistance to Scott’s plan but since religious neutrality
was the professed policy of government, he was informed that
the missionaries could only be given salaries if they were called
schoolmasters!10 Early in 1827 Scott opened a school for Garo boys
 Colonialism and Christian Missions in North-East India 113

in Singimari. On the advice of Bishop Heber, Scott appointed W.B.

Hurley as schoolmaster. The Garo school and Christian experi­
ment did not last long for want of teachers. It was wound up two
years later. Enthusiasts for mission work, however, continued to
see the need for sending missionaries to the Khasis and Garos.
George Swinton, the chief secretary of the government informed
R. Benson, the military secretary to Lord William Bentinck, the
governor general, that ‘The Bishop talked of taking them in hand
and I wish he could send an army of missionaries to preach the
gospel to them’.11
Whereas the Bengal government supported Scott’s plan, the
court of directors did not. It reminded Lord Amherst, the Gover­
nor-General, that the declared policy of the authorities in Britain
then was religious neutrality towards its Indian subjects. ‘It is well
known’, the court of directors remarked in one of its despatches to
India12
that we would not engage in schemes for attempting to propagate Chris­
tianity among the natives; it is a matter of surprise to us that an active
part in the prosecution of this plan should have been taken by a member
of government, and neither the plan itself nor the extraordinary mode in
which it came to be recommended to your notice should have appeared
to you unobjectionable.

Despite this censure, Francis Jenkins, the chief commissioner,

supported the beginnings of the American Baptist Mission in
Upper Assam. The son of a clergyman and with strong evangelical
belief, Jenkins’ correspondence with the American Baptist mis­
sionaries in Burma reveals his personal faith and conviction. In
one such letter he wrote that while he was interested in the educa­
tional work he certainly would not object if that work resulted in
the conversion of the people.13 Jenkins’ enthusiasm for mission­
ary work brought in the American Baptist Mission who arrived in
Sadiya in upper Assam in 1836.
It is striking that the Christian churches spread more comfort­
ably in the hills and plains of the region after the incorporation
of these territories into the formal empire. Initially the Ameri­
can Baptist Mission came with the intention to work among the
114 David Reid Syiemlieh

Shans of Upper Burma and Yunnan, China. Realizing they could

not achieve that end they directed their energies working among,
first the hill people in what is today the eastern part of Arunachal
Pradesh, the several Naga tribes, the Mikirs, among the people
around Nowgong where their headquarters were located; and later
opening a mission station in Guwahati. Some years later the same
mission was in Goalpara, not to proselytize that Bengal province
but to use it as a base to enter the Garo hills, which it did in the
1860s. Their entry into Tura followed in the wake of the estab­
lishment of British administration among the Garos. By then
Omed and Ramke, the Garo combination of uncle and nephew
had become missionaries to their own people and established a
church at Rajasimla.14 A similar situation operated in the Naga
Hills. Reverend Clarke’s entry into the Naga Hills came without
official support and with a threat to his life. Once in the hills it gave
his mission an opportunity to set work among other Naga tribes,
the Angamis, the Sema, the Lothas and the Naga inhabited areas
of Manipur state.15
There was, however, no general and official support for the ini­
tial missionary activity. A chance visit of William Williams of the
Welsh Presbyterian Mission in the Khasi Hills to Sylhet town in the
plains below, will perhaps give one instance of this mission activ­
ity. Williams visited Mizo chiefs incarcerated in jail following their
last resistance to British imperialism. He then visited the Lushai
Hills in 1890. What followed was the Welsh Presbyterian Mission
Board agreeing to extend their work to cover the Lushai Hills.16
Meanwhile, J.H. Lorraine and F.W. Savidge of the Arthington
Aborigines Mission, had spent several months trying to get into
Tripura. Not discouraged by their failure to enter that native state,
they made repeated attempts to enter Lushai Hills. Their requests
were accommodated only after the Lushai Hills were incorporated
into the colonial state. On arrival in Fort Aijal (Aizawl) in January
1894, they called on the British administrator who told them: ‘I
can’t do anything more for you. I have orders not to help you….
But you can go anywhere you like.’17 They remained only to hand
over that mission to the Presbyterians three years later. The two
 Colonialism and Christian Missions in North-East India 115

friends next moved to the south Lushai Hills. Their next mission­
ary endeavour was supported by the Baptist Mission Society.18

Comity Arrangement
Something needs to be said of what came to be known as ‘comity’
agreements. ‘Comity’ was an informal agreement among the
Protestant missions and churches whereby only one mission/
church would work in a given area. The comity agreements were
administered by regional councils of the respective churches and
came into operation sometime in the later part of the nineteenth
century. Missions arrived at the decision not to spread their
respective stations into the territory of the other. This arrangement
worked well with only the occasional intrusion of one mission
into the ‘sphere of influence’ of another. Reverend Sydney Endle,
the Anglican padre, was concerned when the American Baptist
showed interest to work among the tea garden workers who had
migrated to Upper Assam from Chhota Nagpur. He wrote to
Reverend Bronson of the Baptist mission on 1 February 1878:19
There are many reasons why a second mission should not be established
in the same district, especially while so large a part of India is altogether
unprovided with any kind of religious teaching (sic)…, I cannot but think
that if you had contemplated opening such a mission, you would have felt
bound in courtesy to have apprised me of your intensions.
As mentioned earlier the Catholic missions were in disagree­
ment as to which of their missions would work in Assam. When
it was decided that the Salvatoraians, a newly founded German
mission would commence work in the Northeast it was to Shillong
where they first went as it was the provincial capital and outside
the comity restrictions.
The mission activity of the Salvation Army in the Lushai Hills
in 1922 brought in inter-denominational rivalry. After Kawlkhuma
returned from Bombay following an officer’s training course, the
Salvation Army intended to post an European officer in Aizawl.
The Presbyterian missionaries objected to the encroachment into
116 David Reid Syiemlieh

their mission field. Meetings in Calcutta with officers of the Salva­

tion Army, and Shillong with the government and letters to the
governor of Assam by the Presbyterian mission influenced the
government to take a stand that there should not be two missions
operating in the same tribal region which could disturb the peace­
ful situation.20 The government tacitly approved this arrangement.
Another test to the comity agreement came up in 1925 on the
application of a Catholic priest to visit the Lushai Hills. The gov­
ernment carefully handled this situation by giving Fr Boulay of the
Holy Cross Mission restricted permission to visit the hills.21The
First World War affected the administration and position of the
Christian missions in many ways. It particularly affected the newly
arrived Catholic mission in the north-east. The correspondence of
the German and Austrian missionaries was inspected, they were
required to sign a document to the effect that they would not do
anything to damage the interest of the British government; those
under 45 years of age were declared prisoners of war and were
put under police surveillance. Christopher Becker, their Prefect
Apostolic,writes that as the war progressed the Catholic missions
were seriously affected. Communication with Germany was diffi­
cult if not impossible; funds became scarce; the missionaries were
suspected of having wireless sets to communicate with ships in the
Indian Ocean and that they had an arms depot in order to arm the
people against the British. In mid-1915 the German Salvatorian
missionaries were transported to Ahmedabad. Becker’s appeal to
the governor of Assam brought no assurance for their continued
stay. He then approached the Belgian priests in Calcutta. They
came to take over the work of the Salvatorian mission but only
for some time before the Salesians of Don Bosco arrived in 1921.22
Very soon the Salesians were able to leave their mark in the Khasi
and Jaintia Hills, in the Brahmaputra Valley, and from the 1930s
in the Garo Hills.
Other Christian missions in the region were the Lutherans,
working chiefly among the tea labourers from Goalpara to Upper
Assam; the New Zealand Baptists in Tripura; the Australian Bap­
tists in some parts of the lower Brahmaputra Valley; the Salvation
Army in the Lushai Hills; and the Anglican Church in Assam and
 Colonialism and Christian Missions in North-East India 117

parts of the Khasi-Jaintia Hills was patronized by the British offi­

cial establishment. By the year of India’s Independence all these
missions mentioned above had established themselves in some
part or larger areas of the north-east.
By the turn of the nineteenth century each of the mainline
missions had carved out their respective ‘spheres of influence’.23
The government was unwilling to have more than one mission in
any tribal area. Another case for decision came up in 1935 when
Holy Cross missionaries from Chittagong and Dacca applied for
permission to visit Aijal. Permission was granted but only to visit
the district headquarters and for a brief stay.24 The Hill Officers
Conference of 1937 took a policy decision not to allow more than
one mission in any one tribal inhabited area. Consequently, Cath­
olic entry into the Garo Hills was delayed till the 1930s for just
this reason as the Baptist mission was at work there. The comity
agreement came to a close shortly before Independence. The Con­
gregation of Holy Cross was given permission in December 1946
to set up a mission in Aijal.25 In the year of India’s Independence, a
congregation of Spanish sisters was requested to manage the gov­
ernment hospital at Kohima which was constructed as a gesture of
gratitude for the support Nagas had given in the war.26
Within a century of organized missionary activity, Christian­
ity had made its impact on the lives of a large population in the
region, particularly in the hills other than what is today Arunachal
Pradesh. Mission activity picked up momentum towards the turn
of the nineteenth and the early part of the twentieth centuries.
Historians have attributed this growth in part to the effects of two
natural occurrences; the 1897 earthquake and the mautam, the
famine followed by the flowering of the bamboo. Church histori­
ans have also explained church growth after the revival movements
within the Presbyterian church in the Khasi-Jaintia Hills in the first
decade of the twentieth century and its spread to the Lushai Hills.27
These brought in large numbers to the church.28 By then Christi­
anity had become the preferred agent of ‘acculturation’. Though
Hinduism and Islam had already made some advance in the tribal
areas among the Bodos , Khasi-Jaintias, Dimasas, Hajong, Mikirs,
Miris and other groups, the arrival of Christianity halted the fur­
118 David Reid Syiemlieh

ther progress of ‘Sanskritization’ and other processes. However,

conversion to the new faith brought in a break with their primal
religion. It also had its effects on the social and community life
of the converts. Some tribes including the Nagas, the Mizos and
the Garos had very large numbers professing the Christian faith.29
There is reason to understand then why the more educated Khasis
set up the Seng Khasi in 1899, the intention being the preservation
of their religion and culture.30

Government Concerns of Missionary Activity

Major A.G. McCall, the superintendent of the Lushai Hills,
admitted in his memoir that it was not known by the administration
what instructions were given to missions operating in backward
areas by their mission directorates. He was, however, clear that the
administration would not seek to interfere in any doctrinal practice
by a mission which was operating with full government sanction
unless and until a breach of peace was threatened. The same officer
was of the opinion that administration should seek to limit the
degree of licence afforded by missions in any control by the natives
of mission enterprises. Acknowledging that administration was
unable to meet increased measures of decentralization thereby
gave missions increased functions which could create political
problems. He candidly wrote in retirement:31
When we recall that some missionaries openly claim that it is their
privilege and their prerogative to blaze a trail, and for others to meet the
resulting situation, the need for some form of limitation on missionary
activity among a backward people becomes a very real matter.

Several officials were witness that Christianity was disturbing

the social fabric of the tribal societies. Two deputy commissioners
of the Naga Hills district, in particular, were concerned about the
impact Christianity was having on the Naga tribes. John Hutton
in his preface to the second edition of The Sema Nagas lamented
in the 1930s that the past was being quickly lost to the tribe and
that their pagan past was likely to be forgotten in the breach of
continuity which conversion to Christianity was bringing about.32
 Colonialism and Christian Missions in North-East India 119

In another of his monumental monographs, The Angami Nagas

(1921), he showed his aversion towards the missionaries and the
government of which he himself was a part, for the steady advance
their changes had made in the lives of several Naga tribes. He
wrote in one of his pioneering monographs: ‘Old beliefs and cus­
toms are dying, the old traditions are being forgotten, the number
of Christians or quasi Christians is steadily increasing and the
spirit of change is invading and pervading every aspect of village
life.’33 An American Baptist missionary noted that to the Nagas, a
people already guided by their own taboos, came Christianity with
its own set of taboos. He noted a grave danger that Christianity
as presented to these people had come to mean the adoption of
another set of do’s and don’ts.34 Thus Naga observance of genna to
Christian Sunday restrictions was a relatively easy transition.
As Christian missions expanded, administrators placed their
concerns on a number of issues that involved the Christian mis­
sionaries. They found that Naga boys attending the mission schools
had to dress up in the fashion of the Assamese boys, in dhotis and
shirts. The girls too had to dress in saris. The district officials were
critical of the American Baptist missionaries for making the Naga
students dress in this manner. They preferred Nagas to wear their
own attire in order to preserve their tradition and culture. Even­
tually and after much correspondence, the missionaries provided
Naga students of the mission schools with more comfortable attire,
but then again of a different culture. There were also concerns by
the Naga Hills administration when Naga converts to Christianity
refused to observe certain traditional rites and ceremonies. They
could not see why the Christians should refuse to participate in
their agricultural festivals, the hauling of village gates, the pro­
tection of villages, and sleeping in the morung. Naga converts to
Christianity, it was observed, did not follow genna observance. In
all this the official position was largely in favour of the continuance
and participation of all Nagas in their traditional observances.35
The question may be asked why there was so much difference
between the colonial administration and the American Baptist
mission in the Naga Hills when it came to the mission work. Could
this have been so because of the different nationalities involved?
120 David Reid Syiemlieh

Could these issues have been raised in the Naga Hills because two
of their administrators (J.H. Hutton and J.P. Mills) were more sen­
sitive than others to the changes Christianity was having on Naga
life? These questions are asked because we have not noted admin­
istrators elsewhere in the region raising such issues. Elsewhere, the
missions and the government appeared to have worked in union.
Both missionary and government officials were concerned
about the prevalence of what was considered a form of slavery in
the Naga and Lushai Hills districts. The anthropologist-govern­
ment official wrote about its occurrence but could do little. The
missionaries were often more in direct touch with the people.
Their beliefs and convictions and their contact with the people
brought a number of missionaries into the slavery controversy.36
After the Anti-Slavery and Aborigines Protection Society pub­
lished a letter addressed to Montague, the secretary of state for
India in July 1913, momentum picked up against the bawi practice
among the Mizos. A situation was reached when Dr Peter Fraser
purchased the freedom of 40 bawis. His involvement in question­
ing the practice embarrassed the government. It was considered he
was exceeding the sanction given to him as preacher and medical
practitioner. He was asked to leave the hills or sign an agreement
not to interfere in any way whatsoever in Lushai customary dis­
putes and avoid giving expression to Lushai customs. Dr Fraser
preferred to leave the hills and take the matter up with parlia­
ment.37 Apparently, the government did not want the missions to
get too involved in stimulating social change and customs as the
district had only recently been bought under British rule.
Whatever were the benefits to the people that the Christian
missions brought there were administrators who questioned their
activities and impact. John Hutton was critical of the ‘spread of
quasi-European culture’, brought about by the Christian missions.
He was of the opinion that the pace of change had laid upon the
protecting power a heavy obligation to see that the changes that
were taking place:
shall be beneficial rather than detrimental and shall benefit the many
rather than a few and in particular that whatever the greatly desired
 Colonialism and Christian Missions in North-East India 121

education may take, it shall be of real benefit to the people themselves in

advancing their moral and material welfare.38

The Governor of Assam at the time Hutton wrote this to

Andrew G. Clow. He noted that the older generation of officers
generally tended to look upon Christianity, especially in the form
in which it was presented by the American Baptist missionaries,
with grave misgivings, if not hostility. He, too, took the position
there was much in the tribal culture that was desirable to preserve
and that with gradual growth of education there would be increas­
ing change in cultural outlook.39

Roman Script
Christian missions were made an instrument for the colonial state.
In like manner, it may be argued that the missions, too, benefited
from their interface with the colonial state. The missions’ collective
efforts at education, for instance, were envisaged by British officers
as an integral part of the overall policy of civilizing the hill tribes.
‘Civilization’ to them meant affecting moderation in such customs
and habits such as their frequent raids into the plains and head­
hunting. The tribes were not easily amenable to the state’s rules
and regulations (which many tribesmen possibly just could not
comprehend). This called for a policy to effect the change. If the
government of the land could not achieve this, by administrative
procedures and by coercive measures, it would be left to the
missionaries to do so in their own manner.
Christian missions championed the cause of providing written
scripts for the tribal communities, encouraging the use of Assa­
mese script; pioneering education and ministering to the health
of the people of the region. Arriving in their missions at a time
when the East India Company was only just beginning to have
political control of the Assam Valley and later its hill periphery, the
Christian missions stepped in, to assist the government authorities
to provide these ‘civilizing’ effects. Before schools could be estab­
lished it was thought proper to give a tribe a script, for none of
the tribes had any written form of language.William Carey of the
122 David Reid Syiemlieh

Serampore Mission is credited with first translating the Bible into

the Khasi language using the Bengali script. Five hundred copies
were printed but his efforts had little lasting contribution, as the
translation was so imperfect it was unintelligible to the Khasis.
Alexander Lish of the same mission while he was posted at Cher­
rapunji translated portions of the Bible and is reported to have
prepared a Khasi grammar. The medium was Bengali, a language
many of the hill people were conversant with as a consequence of
centuries of interaction with the Bengalis of Sylhet. Thomas Jones,
the first Welsh Calvinist Methodist missionary to the Khasis,
arrived in Cherrapunji in 1841 without knowledge of any Indian
language. He, too, attempted to give the tribe a written script, first
with Bengali characters ‘which proved an insuperable difficulty to
his pupils’, and in spite of much adverse criticism then adopted
Roman characters for the school primers and other translations.40
Thomas Jones today is held in high esteem by the Khasis as the
father of Khasi literature. Missionaries who came after him further
developed the literature.
The early American Baptist missionaries in the Garo Hills
had one advantage over the Welsh Calvinists in the Khasi-Jaintia
Hills—they had experience of India before moving into the Garo
Hills in the early 1860s and, therefore, it was not too difficult for
them to converse and write in Bengali characters for the Garo
script. They preferred the Bengali characters as better suited for
the Garo language and more useful to the tribe who were generally
‘adverse to the acquisition of their own language and anxious to
learn only Bengali and English’.41 The arrival of Reverends Phil­
lips and Mason in Tura, the district headquarters, in December
1874 was significant as F.S. Downs has shown. These missionaries
brought with them a Remington typewriter, perhaps one of the
earliest models, and with this machine they began to propagate
the use of the Roman script for the Garo language. They first
prepared and printed a few primers and found visible signs of
interest in reading among the Garos. Experimenting further, they
realized that 21 Roman letters were sufficient to represent every
needed sound in the Garo language. Two thousand copies of a
primer were printed as a feeler to substitute the Bengali for Roman
 Colonialism and Christian Missions in North-East India 123

characters. The American Baptist Mission Conference of 1893

in Tura resolved that the Roman alphabet was best suited for the
hill tribes of Assam who did not have their own written language.
However, it was not till some 10 years later that the decision was
taken to make this change effective for Garo literature.42
The several Naga tribes did not undergo this difficulty. For
one thing they had relatively less interaction with the people of
the plains to justify use of the Assamese characters for reducing
their languages into written form. Baptist missionaries applied the
Roman character to the scripts of the larger of the Naga tribes—
the Angamis, the Lothas, the Aos and the Semas. They reduced to
writing, 19 tribal languages. The Welsh mission’s success in encour­
aging the growth of the Khasi language influenced them to give the
Mizos and their kindred tribes the Roman script and to signifi­
cant accomplishment. The Christian missionary also reduced into
written form many other tribal languages for the Naga tribes of
Manipur and the Mikirs of Assam, while their efforts to give the
Bodos of Assam and the larger tribes of Tripura the Roman script
has faced a counter-move in support of the Devanagari script.
Missionaries contributed in no small measure to the shaping of
tribal and Assamese identities. Were it not for the persistent efforts
of American Baptist missionaries, the Assamese might have had to
accept the use of Bengali script for their language. The missionaries
aided by their first convert, Nidhi Farwell, developed the language
in what has been compared to the influence of the Serampore mis­
sion for encouraging the Bengali language. They stimulated the
Assamese with a literary renaissance with a modern literature
and literary style, both through their own compositions and the
publications of the Baptist Mission Press at Sibsagar. Grammars,
dictionaries, school textbooks, translations from Christian texts
and reproductions of Assamese literary works, including novels,
were printed in those early years in great flourish. The publica­
tion in 1842 of Arunodoi, a monthly periodical devoted to science,
religion and general information, gave the Assamese language a
boost. All this prepared the Assamese, led by the Baptist mission­
aries, to agitate against the government decision to use Bengali in
the law courts and schools of Assam. Beginning their stand around
124 David Reid Syiemlieh

1838 that Assamese was a distinct language with its own literary
style the debate strained the relationship between the missionaries
and William Robinson, a former missionary of the English Bap­
tist mission, who subsequently became inspector of schools and
supported the more extensive use of Bengali. By 1853, the debate
became public but it would take some more years for the govern­
ment to order in 1873 that Assamese should be reinstated as the
language of the courts and schools in Assam.43

Education
Another important contribution made by Christianity to the
process of acculturation was in providing education. Invariably,
each mission set-up schools soon after they were set-up in any
area. Lish set-up three schools in and around Cherrapunji. Jones
continued the work of his precursor. By 1851, when the Welsh
Mission had completed 10 years of activity in the Khasi Hills,
five schools were in operation, though their missionaries in the
field complained that the Khasis were not enthusiastic towards
receiving education. Whereas much of the expenses for the
printing programme of the missions were borne by the individual
missions, the government encouraged the mission of education
by giving occasional financial grants. It is of interest to note that
the Welsh Mission was the first religious organization in India
to receive a monthly grant of rupees fifty toward the effort of
educating the Khasi-Jaintias. We need not go into the details of
this development. It would suffice to say that in time the initial
opposition of Khasis to learn the three R’s turned into a favourable
desire, the impact of which will be mentioned shortly. Similar was
the contribution of the American Baptist Mission in educating
the tribes of Upper Assam where the mission first pitched tents;
then their schools around Nowgong, the Garo Hills and in Lower
Assam to do their little known work among the Adivasis; and the
more difficult and challenging task of teaching the Naga tribes
because of the multiplicity of dialects.44 The Catholic missions
were to be especially important in providing a broader base and
a high degree of education. The Salesians of Don Bosco added a
 Colonialism and Christian Missions in North-East India 125

new dimension to the cause of educating the youth with a chain of

vocational institutions offering a variety of professional courses.45
The distinctive feature of education among the hill tribes was
the part played in it by Christian missionaries. Missionaries appar­
ently found the hill tribes afforded the most fertile field for their
labours. As they attached great importance to and had initiated
education among the hill tribes it was convenient for the govern­
ment of offer ‘pecuniary aid and leave the work to them’.46 However,
education was not the primary object of missionary activity. Edu­
cation went hand in hand with their religious work but suffered
whenever the priorities of the two interests were raised. The mis­
sion schools were often faced with a dearth of qualified teachers
and were severely affected when the missionaries returned to their
countries or went home on furlough.
Some details may be provided to see the advance of education
at the turn of the nineteenth century and into the early decades of
the last century. Education made great strides in the Lushai Hills.
In 1934, there were two schools at Aizawl, one managed by the
government and the other by the Welsh Presbyterian Mission.
An official report noted, ‘For a savage tribe who have so recently
come under British rule the Lushais show a remarkable opting for
civilization.’47 The Gazetteer noted that education had not made
much progress in the Naga Hills where there was but one second­
ary school and 22 primary schools.48 The government, however,
noted with appreciation the efforts of the Welsh Mission in edu­
cating the Khasi-Jaintia for whom there were 348 primary and
eight secondary schools. It recorded that in 1901 the proportion
of literate persons in that district was higher than any other dis­
trict of Assam. The same report mentions that education was in a
very backward condition in the Garo Hills despite the 94 primary
schools in the district.49 We may hazard to note that the Welsh
Presbyterian Mission gave more attention to education than the
American Baptist Mission.
The government set-up the first high school in Shillong in
1878. In 1891, the Welsh Mission, too, established a high school
in the provincial capital. That same year, the two schools were
amalgamated, the mission retaining the right of nominating the
126 David Reid Syiemlieh

headmaster while the government bore the cost of maintaining

the school.50 Further progress was made in education in all the
hill districts. The Khasi and Jaintia Hills in 1912 had five middle
schools and 425 primary schools; there was but one middle school
for the Garos and 110 primary schools; primary schools for the
Nagas dwindled to 22 in the same year; the Lushai Hills recorded
29 primary schools; 12 primary schools served the Mikirs.51
Even after 50 years of education in the province of Assam, it
was reported that, ‘education in the hills is still in a very experi­
mental stage. It has not yet acquired a definite tendency. Its aim is
not defined’.52 An inspector of schools after visiting the hill districts
made mention in his report for 1909-10 that: ‘that the missions
have not sufficiently systematized the training arrangements, that
there is paucity of school books, that female education requires
organization and that the education imparted has become uncon­
trollably literary in its tendencies and has foolishly divorced itself
from the life of the people’. He noted the necessity of introducing
more industrial instruction, as hill people appeared to do well in
carpentry and other manual work.53
Very early in the development of modern education in the
region was the attention given to the education of girls. This in
part reflects the position girls had in society. The more prominent
schools for girls were at Tura, Shillong, Gauhati, Golaghat, Aizawl
and Kohima. University of Calcutta in 1902 included the Khasi
language in the subjects for the entrance examination. Three dif­
ferent Catholic congregations set up degree colleges in Shillong;
St Edmund’s in 1916, St Anthony’s in 1935 and St Mary’s in 1937,
besides two schools preparing students for the Senior Cambridge
School Examination.
Till 1947, therefore, education in the hills and to a large mea­
sure in the plains, too, was a mission activity financially supported
by the government. Missionary control over education gave them
a considerable instrument of influence over the lives of the people.
Initially, the primary objective of the missions was to make good
preachers of their brighter converts. Many schools were started
to educate the children of the chiefs after their initial opposition
changed to collaboration. But the missions in general did not go
 Colonialism and Christian Missions in North-East India 127

far enough. Before Independence, the Nagas had only one high
school started in 1938 and located in Kohima. The Mizos, too,
were restricted in their opportunities for higher education as their
district had only one high school started in 1944 and located in the
district headquarters at Aizawl. Likewise, the Garos had only one
high school in Tura.
J.P. Mills, the Deputy Commissioner of the Naga Hills district,
was of the opinion that the control of education by the Ameri­
can Baptist Mission in the Naga Hills was so pervasive that: ‘The
animist parent objects … strongly to his boy being taught only
by someone likely to proselytize him.… There is a feeling that the
government in the past has not always been neutral when mis­
sions were concerned.’54 It was also remarked by A.G. McCall, the
superintendent of the Lushai Hills district, that the church in that
district had became a centre of power and patronage following the
excessive reliance of the government on the church as an agency of
education and other social services.55 Similar would have been the
situation in several other hill districts of Assam.
Education had been a powerful agent of social change. It has
brought awareness among the tribes that there should be an adjust­
ment between modernity and tradition. Education further brought
political consciousness. The Khasi-Jaintias were among the first of
the tribes of the region to respond to the changing political and
administrative situation and the prospects of their participation in
the government provided by the Act of 1935. It is of interest to note
that the two representatives of these hills in the Assam legislature
ushered in by the Act were churchmen.56 Political consciousness
among the Garos, the Nagas and the Mizos and other hill tribes
came much later but was very assertive in the case of some tribes
at the time of the transfer of power from Britain to India.

Medical Mission
Church histories of north-east India have not given much attention
to the medical missions. This reflects in a way the attitude of the
Christian missions towards their medical service that was not
looked upon as a primary function of their missionary cause but as
128 David Reid Syiemlieh

an auxiliary in the propagation of the faith. Out of 480 missionaries

of the American Baptist Union in 1902 only 27 were physicians
of whom only two were in the Assam field. Physicians who went
out under the auspices of the Union were first supposed to be
missionaries. It was their Board’s aim to make ‘physical healing
entirely subordinate to efforts for soul purification’.57 The Welsh
Mission on the other hand sent out medical missionaries to the
Khasi Hills soon after their mission was started and they arrived
in fairly large numbers.58
Invariably, all missionaries were given some training in medical
sciences before their departure for the mission. The turning point
of greater emphasis on this service came at about the time of First
World War with larger numbers of men and women entering the
service. For the American Baptist Mission the involvement of its
women’s branch was of significance as its women physicians made
a beginning with the opening of a Women’s Hospital in Gauhati in
1924. Of the more serious diseases that afflicted the people of the
region were leprosy, tuberculosis, malaria, cholera and smallpox.
Less serious medical problems were goitre, which was widespread,
hookworm, decayed teeth and torn earlobes. The larger of the
mission hospitals were at Shillong, Jowai, Gauhati, Jorhat, which
included a T.B. Hospital, Tura which was the first town to have a
hospital managed by the missionaries, Kohima which was given a
hospital by the government in 1946 as a gift for their support in the
war managed initially by Catholic missionary sisters from Spain
and Chabua in Upper Assam which was provided a hospital by the
Anglican Church while the Mizos had health centres at Durtlang
and Serkawn. It is of interest to note that Dr Sidney Rivenburg, a
missionary in the Naga Hills, had worked with Dr Ronald Ross
when he worked out the experiments that led to the discovery of
the cause of malaria.59 The mission hospitals initiated the training
of nurses for their own hospitals and dispensaries and later pre­
pared nurses for employment in other health centres and spread
the lessons of hygiene and other related subjects. Catholic sisters
staffed several government hospitals in the region for a period of
time before other arrangements were made.
 Colonialism and Christian Missions in North-East India 129

Conclusion
The colonial masters and the missionaries both benefited from
each other’s presence in the region. Both took support from the
other. There were difference between them in approach to the
tremendous changes taking place in the lives of the people one
administered and the other ministered. Both agencies were aware
they were bringing about changes in the lives of the people.
We may refer to the beginnings of missionary endeavour in
the region as the ‘mission phase’ of the history. Starting in the early
decades of the nineteenth century it is convenient to use 1947 as
the date this phase comes to a close and another is ushered in. Well
before Independence, the Protestant missions had started handing
over the management of the mission to Indian members of their
churches. The post-colonial phase witnessed a complete transition
of the management of the mission, which, by then, had become
self-supporting churches. The post-colonial phase also witnessed
a phenomenal growth in the number of Christians in the region.60
There were many reasons for this, not the least being the close
of the ‘comity system’ that areas in the region given to only one
mission in the ‘mission phase’ were opened to other churches to
expand into areas hitherto excluded to their activities. Missions
were free to move into areas hitherto restricted. Catholic mission­
ary activity was fast to take advantage of this to set up missions in
the Naga, Lushai and Garo Hills and the hill districts of Manipur.
In time these missions registered spectacular growth. Evangeliza­
tion in Tripura was slow. There has been little growth in the two
valleys other than among the several plains tribes. The Khasi, Jain­
tia and Garo Hills received more focus with enthusiastic response
to church growth. Whereas other foreign missions had by then
transferred much of their mission/church authority to Indian
hands, the Catholic mission/church continued to be in the control
of expatriate missionaries. Things were to change though.
We are witnessing in our time a third phase of Church expan­
sion and activity. Even allowing the three mainstream churches
growth which is normal, that of the Pentecostal churches is
130 David Reid Syiemlieh

significant, of which there are so few studies. The opening up of

Arunachal Pradesh to Christian missions and the response of the
people of that state to Christianity, likewise, has not been studied in
any detail. Despite all the opposition and obstacles to the church’s
endeavour to reach out to the tribes of this state, the people have
today welcomed the Christian missions; opposition is guarded but
not stiff, with the different missions operating in this frontier state
excited about their efforts yet concerned not to go too fast.
This brief account of the work of the different Christian mis­
sion in the region is to emphasize that that the beginnings, spread
and present position of the Christian churches is not the preserve
of any one church but a common and shared tradition. The post-
Independence interface between the Christians and their churches
and the state indicate both appreciation and criticism. Some may
say that this is a much more interesting theme for study given the
attention there is on this subject today. The Indian states’ percep­
tion and understanding of Christianity has changed a great deal
from the colonial perception, not the least being that Christian­
ity is an Indian religion. The Christian communities, despite their
small numbers, have made significant contribution to Indian life
and ethos. At some later stage, I hope to take this theme forward
in some depth.

Notes
1. D.K. Fieldhouse, Economics and Empire 1830-1914, Weidenfeld and
Nicholson, London, 1976, pp. 80-1, 173-5.
2. There are numerous histories of British expansion into the region.
Among them, these may be read, Edward Gait, A History of Assam,
3rd edn, Thacker, Sprink and Co., Calcutta, 1963; H.K. Barpujari,
A Comprehensive History of Assam, vols. 1-5, Publication Division
Government of Assam, Guwahati, 1990-3; Barpujari et al., Political
History of Assam, vols. 1-3, Government of Assam, Guwahati, 1977­
80.
3. Read, for instance, the critique of S.C. Chaube, in Hill Politics in
North East India, Orient Black Swan, Telangana, reprinted 2012,
pp. 38-42, 50-4, 59-62.
4. Refer to Sir Edward Maclargan, The Jesuits and the Great Mogul,
Burnes, Oates and Washbourne Ltd., London, 1932, p. 355. In their
 Colonialism and Christian Missions in North-East India 131

attempt to reach China, Cabral and Cacella left Hooghly in 1627,

reached Cooch Behar and entered the kingdom of ‘Comberasis’
(Kamrup) and pushed as far as U-Tsang. When their mass wine ran
short, Fr Cabral returned to Hooghly. He returned a second time
accompanied by Fr. Emmanuel Dias only to be confined there due to
a fratricidal struggle. There, they were joined by Cacella. Cacella and
Dias and made another attempt to reach Tibet by way of Nepal. Dias
died in Nepal. Cacella succeeded in reaching Tsaparang where he
died due to the arduous journey. For details of this mission read Lt.
Col. C. Eckford Luard assisted by Father H. Heston, Travels of Frey
Sebastian Manrique 1629-1643: a translation of the Itenario De Las
Missions Oriental with Introduction and Notes, vol. II, pp. 391-2.
5. F.S. Downs, ‘Rangamanti: A Christian Community in North-East
India during the 17th and 18th Centuries’, in Sangma, Milton and
Syiemlieh, David R. (eds.), Essays on Christianity in North East
India, Indus Publishing Co., New Delhi, 1994, pp. 39-51; David
R. Syiemlieh, They Dared to Hope: The Holy Cross Congregation in
India, The Fathers of the Holy Cross, Bangalore, 1998, pp.1-22.
6. F.S. Downs, ‘Rangamanti: A Christian Community in North-East
India during the 17th and 18th Centuries,’ in Milton Sangma and
David R. Syiemlieh (eds.), Essays on Christianity in North East India,
op. cit., pp. 39-51.
7. The details of the Catholic Mission in Assam is best covered by
Christopher Becker in The Catholic Church in Northeast India
1890-1915, revised and edited from the original German edition by
Sebastian Karotemprel, Sacred Heart Theological College, Shillong,
2007, Chapters IV-XIV. George Kottupallil has made mention of this
issue of indecision in History of the Catholic Missions in Bengal 1855­
1886, Shillong, 1998, pp. 206-10; and so has David R. Syiemlieh in
They Dared to Hope: The Holy Cross Congregation in India, op. cit.,
pp. 25-6. For a general reading on Christianity in the region read
F.S. Downs’s History of Christianity in India, vol. 5, part 5, Northeast
India in the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, The Church History
Association of India, Bangalore, 1992.
8. Log on to Brahmaputra Studies Database for Alexanders Lish’s,
‘A Brief Account of the Khasees’, The Calcutta Christian Observer,
vol. 7, 1838, pp. 129-43.
9. F.S. Downs, History of Christianity in India: North East India in the
19th and 20th Centuries, op cit., F.S. Downs, Essays on Christianity in
North East India, op. cit.; N. Natarajan, The Missionaries among the
Khasis, Sterling Publishers, Delhi, 1977; John H. Morris, History of
132 David Reid Syiemlieh

the Welsh Calvinistic Methodists’ Foreign to the End of the Year 1904,
reprinted by Indus Publishers, Delhi, 1996; David R. Syiemlieh,
Survey of Research in History on North-East India 1970-1990,
Regency Publications, Delhi, pp. 66-70.
10. Ibid., pp. 353-4.
11. Nottingham University Library, Portland Collection, Bentinck
Papers, PWJF2781/XLIV, Swinton to Benson, 22 July 1831. The
reference is to Bishop Turner who had succeeded Bishop Heber.
12. India Office Library and Records, London, Political Despatches from
Court of Directors, 2 February 1831, para 86.
13. F.S. Downs, History of Christianity in India, vol. V, part 5, Northeast
India in the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, op. cit., pp. 38-9. In
his reference to conversion, Jenkins was making an allusion to the
tribals in Upper Assam. Also read Puthenpurakal, J., Baptist Missions
in Nagaland, Vendrame Missiological Institute, Shillong, 1994.
14. M.S. Sangma, History and Culture of the Garos, Books Today, New
Delhi, 1981, pp. 255-6; Mathew Muttumana, Christianity in Assam
and Interfaith Dialogue, Ishvanai Kendra, Indore, 1984, pp. 54-7.
15. Muttumana, op. cit., pp. 62-7; Puthenpurakal, Baptist Mission
in Nagaland, Vendrame Missiological Institute, Shillong, 1984;
Puthenpurakal, ‘Evangelization among the Nagaland Tribes’, The
Catholic Church in Northeast India 1890-1990, Vendrame Institute,
Shillong, 1993, pp. 216-25.
16. C.L. Hminga, The Life and Witness of the Churches in Mizoram,
Baptist Church of Mizoram, Serkawn, 1987, p. 45. For other histories
of the growth of Christian missions in the region read D.R. Syiemlieh,
They Dared to Hope: The Holy Cross Congregation in India, op. cit.;
J.V. Hluna, Church and Political Upheaval in Mizoram: A Study of
the Impact of the Political Development in Mizoram, Aizawl, 1985;
J. Puthenpurakal (ed.), Impact of Christianity on North East India,
Sacred Heart Theological College, Shillong, 1996.
17. Hminga, ibid., pp. 47-8.
18. Lalsangkima Pachuau, ‘Robert Arthington Jr and the Arthington
Aboriginese Mission’, Indian Church History Review, December
1994, pp. 105-26.
19. Cited in F.S. Downs, History of Christianity in India, op. cit., p. 81.
20. Lal Dena, Christian Missions and Colonialism: A Study of Missionary
Movement in North-East India with Particular Reference to Manipur
and Lushai Hills 1894-1947, Vendrame Institute, Shillong, 1988,
pp. 65-8.
 Colonialism and Christian Missions in North-East India 133

21. Ibid., pp. 69-70; David R. Syiemlieh, They Dared to Hope, op. cit.,
pp. 27-31. The concern of the Presbyterian Mission in the Lushai
Hills is pointed out in Hminga, op. cit., pp. 158-9.
22. Refer to Christopher Becker, The Catholic Church in Northeast India
1890-1915, op cit., Chapter XIV, pp. 401-42.
23. David R. Syiemlieh, ‘The Beginning of the Catholic Church among
the Mizos, Proceedings of the North East India History Association,
Thirteenth Session, Shillong, 1993, p. 273.
24. Syiemlieh, They Dared to Hope, op. cit., pp. 41-6.
25. The Archives of the Holy Cross Congregation in Rome has an
interesting note that the opening of the Lushai Hills was decided on
the playfield of St. Edmund School Shillong! This could have been
the result of a meeting between the Governor of Assam and Fr.
Bianchi, Secretary to the Bishop of Assam, in late 1946. They were
noticed to have been in close conversation sometime during that
event. Soonafter, the government issued orders on 18 December,
permitting two Holy Cross missionaries to reside in the Lushai Hills.
Syiemlieh, They Dared to Hope, op. cit., pp. 56-7.
26. David R. Syiemlieh, A Short History of the Catholic Church in
Nagaland, Shillong, 1990, p. 39; O. Paviotti, The Works of His Hands,
The Story of the Archdiocese of Shillong, Guwahati, 1934-1984,
Archbishop’s House, Shillong, 1987, pp. 102-3.
27. After 60 years of mission among the Khasi, there were 2,147
members of the church. This member doubled within a year of the
1897 earthquake, J.H. Morris op cit., pp. 187-8. The revival story
among the Mizos is told in some detail in Lalsawma, Revivals: The
Mizo Way, Aizawl, 1994.
28. C.L. Hminga informs that the North Lushai Hills registered an
increase in the number of Christians from 57 to 6,134 in the decade
1904-14. During the same period the number of Christians in the
South Lushai Hills rose to 2,647. By the time of the second revival,
the numbers crossed 14,000 in the North and 3,400 in the South. The
Life and Witness of the Churches in Mizoram, Serkawn, 1987, pp. 81,
91, 123. So zealous were a section of Mizos with the revival that the
local administration had to intervene and advise revivalists of a Mizo
village had to go back to their fields that had been neglected. Robert
N. Reid, Years of Change in Bengal and Assam, London, 1966, p. 112.
Also read Sajal Nag, ‘God’s Strange Means: Missionaries, Calamity
and Philanthropy among the Lushais’, in T.B. Subba et al., (eds.),
Christianity and Change in Northeast India, Concept Publication
Co., New Delhi, 2009, pp. 285-304.
134 David Reid Syiemlieh

29. The Census of 1901 registered 35,969 Christians in the north-east,

see Downs, The History of Christianity in North-East India, op. cit.,
p. 77.
30. Fearing that Khasis were being affected by changes, including the
spread of Christianity, Jeebon Roy and others started the Seng
Khasi in November 1899. The object of Seng Khasi was to foster
brotherhood among the Khasis who retained their socio-cultural
and religious heritage, to encourage sports, dances and festivals, the
advancement of education and the preservation of Khasi religion.
31. A.G. McCall, Lushai Chrysais, (Reprinted 1977), Firma KLM. Tribal
Research Institute, Aizawl, pp. 212-14.
32. John H. Hutton, The Sema Nagas (1921), reprinted, Bombay, 1969,
p. ix.
33. John H. Hutton, The Angami Nagas (1921), reprinted, Bombay 1969,
p. vii.
34. W.C. Smith, The Ao Naga Tribe of Assam, Macmillan and Co.,
London, 1925, gives a whole chapter in his conclusion on the effects
of Christianity on the tribe.
35. Wati Imchen, ‘Relations between the Baptist Mission and
Government in the Naga Hills 1872-1947’, Proceedings of the North
East India History Association, 24th Session, Guwahati, October
2003, pp. 308-21.
36. J.P. Mills, The Ao Nagas, Oxford University Press, Bombay, 1973,
op. cit., pp. 210-11; J.P. Mills, The Lhota Nagas, (1922), Macmillan
and Co., London, op. cit., p. 111; Hutton, The Angami Nagas, op. cit.,
pp.154-5.
37. Accounts of Dr Fraser’s involvement in the bawi controversy are
mentioned in McCall, Lushai Chryslis, op. cit., pp. 121-31 and Lloyd,
J. Merion, History of the Church in Mizoram: Harvest in the Hills,
Synod Publication House, Aizawl, 1991, pp. 152-7. Sajal Nag’s article,
‘Rescuing Imagined Slaves: Colonial State, Missionary and Slave
Debate in North East India (1908-1920)’, Indian Historical Review,
vol. 39, no. 1, June 2012, pp. 57-71, has added to our understanding
of the government’s attitude towards churches and social issues.
38. J.H. Hutton, ‘Problems of Reconstruction in the Assam Hills’,
Presidential Address 1945 at The Royal Anthropological Institute of
Great Britain and Ireland, p. 4.
39. Sir Andrew G. Clow, The Future Government of the Assam Tribal
Peoples, Shillong, 1945, pp. 23-4; David R Syiemlieh (ed.), On the
 Colonialism and Christian Missions in North-East India 135

Edge of Empire: Four British Plans for North East India 1941-1947,
Sage India, New Delhi, 2014, pp. 178-9.
40. D.R. Syiemlieh, British Administration in Meghalaya: Policy and
Pattern, New Delhi, pp. 103-4; citing John Hughes Morris, op. cit.,
pp. 80-1.
41. Ibid., p. 133; Foreign Political Proceedings, National Archives of India,
October 1873, no. 123.
42. For details see D.R. Syiemlieh, op. cit., pp. 133-4.
43. Refer to Downs’ article with illustrative documents, ‘Missionaries
and the Language Controversy in Assam’, Gauhati University Journal
[1981]. This has been included in Downs’, Essays on Christianity in
North-East India, op. cit., pp. 81-141. Also read Jayeeta Sharma,
‘Missionaries and Print Culture in Nineteenth Century Assam: The
Orunodoi Periodical of the American Baptist Mission’, in Robert
Eric Frykenberg (ed.), Christians and Missionaries in India: Cross
Cultural Communication since 1500, Routledge Curzon, London,
2003, pp. 256-73.
44. M.S. Sangma, The History and Culture of the Garos, op. cit., pp. 225­
58; Downs, Essays on Christianity in North-East India, op. cit., p. 195;
David R. Syiemlieh, British Administration in Meghalaya, op cit.,
pp. 102-6, 133-4.
45. O. Paviotti, The Works of his Hands, The Story of the Archdiocese of
Shillong, op cit.; J. Puthenpurakal (ed.), Impact of Christianity on
North East India, Sacred Heart Theological College, Shillong, 1996,
pp. 406-9.
46. Report on the Progress of Education in East Bengal and Assam 1901­
1907, Shillong 1907, p. 108.
47. B.C. Allen, Gazetteer of Bengal and North East India, reprinted by
Mittal Publishers, New Delhi, 2001, p. 466.
48. Ibid., p. 479.
49. Ibid., p. 510.
50. John H. Morris, The Story of Our Foreign Mission, The Synod
Publication Board Aizawl, Mizoram, 1990, p. 39. This is in a shorter
history of Morris’ earlier book. He takes the history up to 1930.
51. Quinquennial Review of the Progress of Education in East Bengal and
Assam, 1907-1912, pp. 120-2.
52. Report on the Progress of Education in East Bengal and Assam 1901­
1907, pp. 108-9.
53. General Report on Public Instruction Eastern Bengal and Assam
1909-1910, p. 31.
136 David Reid Syiemlieh

54. Progress of Education in Assam 1927-1932, Quinquennial Report,

1933, p. 54.
55. Chaube, Hill Politics in North-East India, Orient Longman, Delhi,
1999, p. 57.
56. They were Rev. J.J.M. Nichols-Roy, the founder of the Church of God
and Rev. L. Gatphoh of the Church of England.
57. American Baptist Historical Society, Valley Forge, ‘Wither Medical
Missions’.
58. D. Ben Rees, (ed.), Vehicles of Grace and Hope: Welsh Missionaries
in India 1800-1970, Welsh Christian Council, Aberystweth, 2002,
pp. 129-36.
59. Narola Rivenburg, The Star of the Naga Hills: Letters from Sidney
and Hattie Rivenburg: Pioneer Missionaries in Assam 1883-1923,
Philadelphia, 1941, p. 90.
60. For an update on Christianity in the region read Downs, ‘Christian
Conversion Movements in North East India’, in Rowena Robinson,
and Sathianathan Clarke (eds), Religious Conversion in India: Modes,
Motivations, and Meanings, Oxford University Press, New Delhi,
2003, pp. 381-400.
 CHAPTER 6

Reading the Open Book

Missionary Print as Hermeneutical
and Material Texts

DAVID VUMLALLIAN ZOU

Unlike the story of writing, historian S.R. Fischer heard ‘the voice
of civilization itself ’ (2003: 7) while documenting the history
of reading. Before the coming of print culture and e-books, the
experience of reading had been historically associated with stones,
walls, barks, clay tablets, scrolls, codex, among others. Reading
comes before writing, and even non-literate societies ‘cannot do
but read’ (Manguel 1997: 7) to interpret the world around them.
It is more than metaphorical to say that palmists ‘read’ palms,
travellers ‘read’ maps, and the blind read Braille. In one form or
another, modern men and women spent a lot of time reading—
especially texts. Be it on paper or on screen, reading informs or
inspires the human mind; it educates as well as entertains.
Over time, ‘ways of reading’ varied to remain supple in new
circumstances. In fact, the topic is a sub-field of enquiry within
‘book history’, literacy studies and literary theory. As an erudite
reader, Alberto Manguel (1997) probed into his own ‘reader­
response’ while artfully inscribing his personal readings within a
broader historical canvas. As a book historian, S.R. Fischer (1980)
provides a global perspective to the story of reading. And a liter­
ary critic like Stanley Fish (2003) underlined the role of readers
within ‘interpretive communities’ (p. 14) in the making of mean­
ings. Such general overviews have enriched our understanding
of different aspects of the reading experience. In particular, Fish’s
138 David Vumlallian Zou

take on reading is theoretically engaging. In contrast to the for­

malist quest for objective meaning in a given text, he insists on the
centrality—not the neutrality—of the reader in producing mean­
ings. Stanley Fish contends that ‘the reader’s response is not to the
meaning; it is the meaning’ (Fish 1980: 3). Ultimately, he argues
that a ‘meaning experience’ (ibid.: p. 4) proceeds neither from
the text nor the reader, but from interpretive communities whose
members share interpretive strategies as community property.
Those interpretative communities are by no means stable. Nobody
has the last word, and no authority can impose a ‘correct’ read­
ing on others. But the community of readers frequently arrives
at a consensus that ‘some readings are better than others—more
informed, more lucid, more challenging, more pleasurable, more
disturbing’ (Manguel 1997: 86).

Readers and Reading in Colonial North-east India

The present case study benefits from critical insights provided
by the existing literature on reading. But here the main focus is
on the evolving story of readers and users of printed books in
colonial north-east India. The chapter examines the ‘meaning
experience’ of readers and users of key texts like the vernacular
Bible and religious journals in the region. As religion had been
the chief mentor of literacy, it is no surprise that the history of
reading often gets intertwined with religious texts. Further, I want
to draw attention to the extra-textual meanings and materiality of
the book as a cultural artefact in the hands of book users. Today we
are accustomed to imaging reading as a silent and solitary activity.
Yet it is worth noting that the printed book is not simply ‘a source
of ideas and images, but a carrier of relationships’ (Davis 1975:
192).
In British India, literacy figures became available during the
last decades of the nineteenth century. Indian censuses of 1881
and 1891 defined three levels of literate competence: first, learning
category included those under instruction; second, literate per­
sons; and finally, illiterate persons which excluded children under
the age of five. However, this triple classification was abandoned in
 Reading the Open Book 139

1901, when literacy meant a ‘degree of proficiency in reading and

writing’.1 There was still enough room for census enumerators to
interpret the test of literacy in their own way. So, a ‘clear instruc­
tion’ was issued in 1911 in which literacy was defined as the ability
to ‘write a letter to a friend and read the reply’.2
In the context of nineteenth-century north-east India, both
American and British missionaries were primarily concerned
with a specific type of literacy—they were keen to impart Bible-
based literacy. In other words, the target was to produce preferably
passive readers (not writers) of gospel tracts, scripture portions,
hymnbooks and, eventually, mission journals. The Baptist mission
in the Brahmaputra Valley published a widely read journal like
Arunodoi (1846-80). The Welsh mission, too, launched their own
journals—U Nongkit Khubor (1889-91) in Khasi-Jaintia Hills and
the long-surviving Kristian Tlangau (1911 till date) in the Lushai
Hills. In principle, Bible-based literacy desired to mint readers
who would consume evangelical products rather than train writers
who could interrogate the missionary scripts or the master texts.

Pedagogy of Reading: Its Purposes and Practices

The story of Mizo literacy began in the 1890s with the advent
of British rule and Christian missions. As typical Protestant
missionaries, the first thing the two pioneer missionaries of the
Lushai Hills (J.H. Lorrain and F.D. Savidge) did was to reduce the
local dialect into writing, compile a dictionary, translate portions of
the gospel and teach literacy skills to children. Until a semblance of
vernacular literature existed, there would be no point in preaching
the benefits of reading. To teach reading as a desirable skill, some
kind of reading material also needs to be created. But scarcity of
books was a perennial problem in colonial Lushai Hills. So, the
primary purpose of reading in the early decades of Christian
mission was to enable potential Mizo converts to read the newly
translated portions of the gospel. The missionaries believed that
literate Mizos had better chances of becoming and remaining
good Christians. The possibility of ideal Christian life among
illiterate Mizos was considered an exception rather than the norm.
140 David Vumlallian Zou

In 1907, J.H. Lorrain confirmed such an opinion: ‘A Christian able

to read the Gospels for himself makes rapid progress in the new
life, whereas it is most difficult, as a rule, for an illiterate convert,
in a far-away village, without any fellow Christians near, to make
much headway’.3
Missionaries in south Lushai saw reading as a tool not only
for recruiting, but also for retaining new converts. Among the
Pawih tribes of this area, there was high incidence of converts
backsliding into ‘pagan’ way of life.4 Literacy was seen as a remedy
for the problem as a mission report remarked, ‘We believe that if
the Christian could read and write there would be less backslid­
ing.… We emphasised the teaching of reading after Sunday school,
as this has been somewhat neglected lately (emphasis added).’5 The
early vernacular books were not meant to provide information or
entertainment to readers. They were devotional readings to moti­
vate and remind the new converts what they had known. Reading
for salvation could also ‘explain their everyday experiences in
religious terms’ (Gillespie 2005: 152). What such readings lacked
in terms of informational values, it compensated by ‘sustaining
and transmitting cultural values among the communities of the
already converted’ (Brown 2004: 145). Revd David Edwards once
lamented, ‘Books are all too few in Lushai … and it is easy for our
workers to get stale and out of touch with the real things.’6 In this
case, the ‘real things’ pertained to other-worldly concerns such as
spiritual books and conversion statistics. At a period of high mor­
tality, readings were appropriately geared to the other world than
the present world.
In the early years, the Baptist mission in south Lushai initiated
a reading club in their lone boarding school. Lushai boys met there
each month on the first Wednesday. Based on their private Bible
reading, the boys would jot down questions on a piece of paper
and deliver them to the moderator a few days before the schedule
meeting. With the onset of the rain-bearing monsoon, this would
be supplemented by ‘reading lesson by the story method’ as out­
door activities got disrupted. The boys welcomed these diversions,
as F.W. Savidge remarked, ‘To while away some of the time during
the long rainy days we have devoted certain hours to storytelling
 Reading the Open Book 141

and question-asking. This had given a good deal of pleasure as well

as instruction.’7
The Bible was intended to be the focus of such reading groups;
but things did not always develop according to the wishes of the
mission. Interestingly, one of the questions asked by a boy was:
‘Who invented reading?’ Of course, the missionaries were the pio­
neers of reading in their mission fields, but that did not necessarily
equip them to answer the question. So, they found some of the
questions ‘alarmingly complex’.8 In 1908, F.W. Savidge reported
that the problems posed by the schoolboys often transcended reli­
gious issues:
Another day is set apart for asking questions on any subject under the
sun, and very often questions go above the sun, too. If a philosopher
wished to be considered encyclopedic, some of these questions might
make a good test of his knowledge, for example—Who invented reading?9
(emphasis added)

In his monumental study of catechism in early modern Eng­

land, Ian Green found a ‘catechetical tradition’ (1996: 45) with a
high level of consensus and continuity across the country. Simi­
larly, this appears to be the case in colonial Lushai as the southern
Baptists and northern Presbyterians shared a common literature
committee—perhaps due to lack of human and financial resources.
It would be difficult to find the doctrinal difference between the
Calvinist and non-Calvinist textbooks. But there existed a hier­
archy in the level of difficulty. While children read ‘the Christian’s
ABC’ of simplified dogmas, candidates for the office of church
eldership had to assimilate more demanding and sophisticated
doctrinal instructions. Compiled in 1915, here is a list of a few
Mizo textbook titles that reflect both their difficulty level and
ideological bias: Children’s Catechism; The Story of the Bible; The
Story of Jesus; How to Pray; Catechism on Baptism; Life of Charles
Finny; and The Lord’s Supper. Text of a more advanced category
included The Christian Instructor; Rules of Discipline and Confes­
sion of Faith; Notes on the Miracles of Jesus’ Notes on the Parable of
Jesus; and Pilgrim’s Progress.10
142 David Vumlallian Zou

Reading for Reference and Pleasure

Reading rooms in colonial Lushai Hills housed only modest
collections of books. In 1935, Revd David Edward said, ‘Books
are a rare luxury, and for the non-English speaking deplorably
few are available’.11 The only libraries were located in emerging
urban centres like Aizawl and Serkawn. However, the last decade
of British rule saw the establishment of the first rural library in
Lushai Hills. In 1945, the chief of Hualtu village by the name of
Tlânglianchhuma Sailo donated a plot of land for the construction
of a library building.12 Sailo was an enlightened chief who had
pursued his higher education at Poona College in western India.
The young chief believed that the construction of a library was
an index of ‘national progress and social awareness’.13 The library
building was constructed like a fine colonial bungalow. With
donations from the public, Hualtu Library purchased all the books
available in Mizo vernacular besides some collections in English
and Hindi. Secular literature in Mizo was as yet unavailable. In
that situation, the library managers had little choice but to hope
for the spiritual progress of its readers in a vague way: ‘Except
for the Hindi and English primers, all our collections deals with
the words of God; so we hope to progress towards the Christian
path… We shall be able to make progress in every direction if the
number of libraries increases’.14
From the perspective of book history, Hualtu Library pro­
moted ‘reference reading’: it catered to the needs of different
library users—lay preachers or church elders working on their
sermons, or busy Sunday School teachers preparing their lessons.15
Informed by evangelical ethos, the Mizo converts turned to the
Bible ‘as the ultimate authority on economics and politics no less
than on religion and morals’ (Hill 1993: 31). The tribal converts
were fully immersed in evangelical reading, defined by a resident
Welsh missionary as ‘wholesome literature’.16 As a policy matter,
the missionaries consistently viewed secular education as a threat
to their evangelical vision for the Mizos. Yet a later missionary like
H.W. Carter began to see the dangers of religious overdose and
secular deficit in the general outlook of this tribal community; and
he observed that ‘in order to preserve a sane balance he [the Mizo]
 Reading the Open Book 143

needs to have his religious knowledge tempered with general

knowledge of things outside his own tiny, isolated country and his
own limited experience’.17
Meanwhile, the Young Lushai Association (YLA)—established
in 1935—had been an advocate of pleasure reading. Their advice
to cultivate the habit of reading and their definition of ‘wholesome
literature’18 was not confined to religious and devotional books
only. An YLA circular acknowledged that ‘celebrated books exist
both within the religious as well as secular circles’.19 The YLA con­
trasted the experience of reading novels against religious books, yet
it was not judgemental about the relative merit of the two genres
of literature. Their implicit suggestion was to read widely across all
genres as an YLA circular in the monthly Kristian Tlangau put it:
We are not supposed to move with one-track mind. As we are meant
to be broad-minded, a person with just one interest will end up being
less than a perfect human being. Therefore, wide reading is necessary:
one should try to read good books. There are different kinds of reading
materials related to news, science, religion, etc. While all of them have
something valuable to offer, some books may be renowned and widely
appreciated. Such is the mark of a good book.20

The YLA differentiated the reading requirements of school­

ing from private reading for pleasure and self-improvement. It
lamented that many educated Mizos did not cultivate the habit of
reading after schooling. The YLA contended that reading was not
simply the key to a paid job. Therefore, the organization made this
public appeal:
Some persons get jobs after successful schooling. Unfortunately they
give up reading as soon as they have the leisure to continue it. During
the days of schooling, they cannot indulge in pleasure reading—the pre­
scribed syllabus has to be read, the course has to be completed. Then they
quit reading as soon as the opportunity arrives. Are there plenty of such
people among the Mizos?21

Reading ‘Literally’ the Vernacular Bible

The Bible’s accepted cannon was more of a library than a book;
and it meant quite ‘different things to different people at different
144 David Vumlallian Zou

times, in different circumstances’ (Hill 1993: 4). Like any great

book, it accumulated commentaries by learned readers over
the centuries. Hill rightly said, ‘There are few ideas in whose
support a Biblical text cannot be found. Much could be read
into and between the lines’ (Hill 1993: 5). In its original tongues,
the Bible was virtually a closed book; only classical scholars had
access to the Bible. In fact, the Bible that most converts came to
know was the vernacular yet equally sacred text. Andrew Walls
calls this ‘the translation principle’ (1996: 26) in the history of
Christianity. So, the vernacular attained the status of a revelatory
medium wherein ‘converts heard God addressing them in the old,
familiar idiom’ (Sanneh 2002: 184). Those Words might be read
literally, allegorically or analogically. They were all acceptable ways
of reading, yet none of them was immune to allegations of false
reading. Readers may distrust a ‘historical’ reading if they lack
the historical sense; others may dismiss the ‘allegorical’ reading
of Christology as anachronistic; and an ‘analogical’ reading may
appear too far-fetched to many readers (cf. Manguel 1997: 87).
In colonial north-east India, the biblicism of Protestant mis­
sions and the principle of sola scriptura disentangled most converts
from traditions of Western commentaries. The predominance of
Protestant missions ensured that the tribal converts could jettison
the need for the Saints and the Virgin along their pilgrim path,
provided they knew the Holy Writ in their own vernacular. Biblical
literalism exerted strong appeal particularly to readers with ver­
nacular literacy, but no English literacy. The Western missionaries
battled against the ‘excesses’ of literal readers of the vernacular
Bible. They felt nervous at a biblicism that spawned ‘blockheaded
fundamentalism’ (Sanneh 2002: 203). In 1937, a Baptist mission­
ary in Lushai Hills by the name of W.H. Carter mused about the
pitfalls and perils often associated with literal readings:
The primitive mind is very easily attracted to the miraculous and the
bizarre, and a mere surface acquaintance with the Christian scriptures
often results in perfectly sincerely, yet dangerously foolish interpretations
of scriptural facts and teaching. The extent to which such childish ideas
may take root, and the excesses to which they may lead have been clearly
illustrated this year. (emphasis added)22
 Reading the Open Book 145

Carter imputed rather uncharitably the literalism of some Mizo

readers to ‘a love of, if not a sheer inability to avoid, excesses’.23 He
felt relieved that the problem in the Baptist mission field of south
Lushai was less severe than in the Presbyterian area of north Lus­
hai. Some interpretations were simply childish and harmless; but
such ‘excesses’ could be infectious if left unattended. Carter went
on to cite general examples of reading the Mizo Bible literally:
One man opens his Bible and, reading that David danced before the Lord,
proceeds to follow David’s example in the village church. Another finds
references to speaking in unknown tongues, and decides that he cannot
be a true Christian without gibbering. Another learns that in order to
enter the kingdom of heaven he must become a little child, and immedi­
ately drops on all fours and sucks his thumb.24

The problem of Biblical ‘excesses’ that missionaries later

lamented was a testimony to the success of the vernacular literacy
they had created. It was a reflection of the deep root the vernacu­
lar Bible had struck in the local culture. If excited Mizo readers
committed excesses, they were ‘indigenous excesses rather than
Western ones’ (Sanneh 2002: 203). A literal reading of the ver­
nacular Bible in Mizo led readers to challenge unwittingly a basic
sacrament like the Lord’s Supper. Based on the translation of ‘Do
this in remembrance of me’ in the Mizo Bible, a reader came to
the conclusion that the Lord’s Supper was meant to be done only
once, not as a ritual. As the main translator of the Mizo Bible,
J.H. Lorrain had to insert the Lushai adverb, thin (‘periodically’)
to render the continuous sense of the Greek (Lloyd 1991: 201).
This plain reading of the Bible, though naïve, was revelatory of the
Mizo converts’ hostility to elaborate and learned doctrines, and
equally reflective of their love for amateur prophesy and preaching
(cf. Hobsbawm 1996: 227).
The combination of literal exegesis and ambiguous translations
often led to radical readings of the vernacular Bible. Associated
with Revival movements, at least four Christian concepts (Original
Sin, End Times, the Cross and Holy Ghost) had deep impact upon
the Mizo mind and their ways of reading the Bible. It is possible
to draw up a Revival chronology which broadly corresponded to
146 David Vumlallian Zou

a sort of thematic progression over time. Yet the chronology was

not as neat as one may wish, and themes often overlapped in real
life. The idea of ‘Original Sin’ impressed the newly colonized high­
landers during a Revival in 1906; the harsh existence of the gaunt
highlanders might have found an echo in the grim theology of sin,
hell and damnation. Then, the craze for the Second Coming came
during the Stirrings25 of 1913-14 and the Judeo-Christian con­
cept of lineal time left a permanent imprint on the Mizo psyche.
Meanwhile, the ‘End Times’ book of Revelation became available
to Mizo readers around this time. This was followed by the ‘Cross
of Self-Sacrifice’ (akin to the Mizo ideal of tlawmngaihna) during
the Stirrings of 1919-23. Mizo converts had a special fascination
for the Cross on an imagined ‘beautiful Mount Calvary’.26 In fact, a
local poet passionately declared, ‘I fondly cherish you of all hills on
earth, O Mount of joy.’27 The Presbyterian (Calvinistic) church at
Durtlang reportedly had such unrivalled fetish for the Cross that
other Mizo Christians fell short of their benchmark. As a resident
missionary at Durtlang, Dr John Williams had remarked, ‘The
Cross is the central theme of the preaching here. One young man,
a candidate for the ministry, had been sent to preach to Durtlang,
on probation, but the church rejected him because his preaching
was not definite enough on the Cross’.28
As a symbol of divine and human self-sacrifice, the Cross res­
onated well with Mizo preachers and hymn writers. Ironically, the
traditional value of Mizo tlawmngaihna (altruism) found expres­
sion in the theology of the Cross. On the face of it, this tendency
was out of sync with Protestant ethics and the pursuit of enlight­
ened self-interest that gave birth to the spirit of capitalism.
Finally, passages dealing with the Holy Spirit were the subject
of excited discussion during the Stirrings of 1930-7 (cf. Kipgen
1997). Hence, they were especially vulnerable to irrational inter­
pretations. In the context of southern Nigeria, J.D.Y. Peel (1968)
also noted the appeal of the Trinity’s third person to the tongue-
speaking Yaruba Christians during the 1920s. While millennial-
ism was an import from medieval theology, Mizo revivalist
stirrings had certain affinities with their pagan religion. Or, they
were rooted locally at least. Despite the absence of nationalist
 Reading the Open Book 147

sentiments, it is possible to discern a strong desire to assert indig­

enous independence in ecclesiastical matters.
An archaic Mizo possessed a vivid mental picture of a highly
stratified ‘spirit world’. For the first generation of Christian con­
verts, the power of the ubiquitous spirits was still all too real in
their everyday lives—including mental and physical activities.
So, it would seem quite natural for them to encounter spirits of
various descriptions in their Bible readings. The vernacular Bible
employed the Lushai ramhuai (a detested jungle spirit) to represent
collectively a host of biblical evil characters, including demons and
‘evil spirits’. In assuming its new role as a universal super-villain,
the pagan ramhuai had to sacrifice in the process its distinctive
and parochial character. No doubt, perceptions of the pagan
spirits partly informed how early converts read the Holy Spirit,
who ‘indwells’ or ‘possesses’ believers. The Welsh missionary, Rev.
David Edwards witnessed the Revival Stirrings of 1930-7. He was
apparently taken aback by what he saw as a ‘scene of the most vio­
lent forms of religious ecstasy’. Ironically, Edwards described the
days of Mizo mass conversion as ‘a difficult period’. He went to
report, ‘The phenomena were crude and primitive, and the people
were referred to as those “drunk with the Spirit”. It is very difficult
to explain the effect upon a European mind.’29 In fact, some dia­
lectal Bibles of the Lushai-Kuki group provide enough room for
the notion of being ‘drunk with the Spirit’ as if it were the spirit of
rice-beer (zu). Ephesians 1: 13-14 talks about the Spirit as a seal
or a pledge of redemptive promise, which the Mizo Bible renders
as za khamna. In most Lushai-Kuki dialects, the term khamna is
a pun: it denotes being sealed with a pledge as well as being fully
satiated or drunk. The term za khamna of the standard Duhlian
(Mizo) Bible was relatively free from ambiguity unlike the Bible
translations in the Kuki dialects, which render it as khamna.
In 1939, the Revd E.L. Mendus also described the Revival
‘as the darkest cloud-storm I have ever seen on our ecclesiastical
horizon’.30 He conceded that there was an ‘element of good in it
… we can know God truly through His Spirit, etc’.31 Despite its
anathema to the rational mind, he instinctively sensed ‘a valuable
mystic strain in it … however primitive and crude its forms may
148 David Vumlallian Zou

take’.32 Yet he felt disoriented as the ‘supernatural becomes often

more real than the temporal’ and feared that the anarchy might
‘endanger the normal healthy life of the community’.33 In fact, the
American psychologist, William James, once remarked, ‘Spiritual
excitement takes pathological forms whenever other interests are
too few and the intellect too narrow’ (1902: 340). In this vein,
Mendus proposed a dual solution to Mizo spiritual pathology: to
divert their mystic interest into other avenues, and ‘to teach what
is the true meaning of the Holy Spirit and spiritual life’.34 Lecturing
about the Holy Spirit to a ‘mystic’ Mizo was trickier than the mis­
sionaries thought. That was an area where every lay believer could
put the Word to work by becoming Bible interpreters in their own
right. In this democratic logic, the Spirit of a lay member com­
manded as much authority as the Spirit of church leaders. Though
the Rev. Mendus saw a method to the madness, he was quite frus­
trated by ‘this most subtle and pervasive problem’35 encountered by
the Welsh mission in Mizoram: ‘One of our chief difficulties is that
many of these people will not listen to teaching or respond to guid­
ance from church leaders, for they say they have the Spirit of God
Himself within them. Who is man that he should be listened to?’36
The bulk of biblical references to the Holy Spirit were to be
found in the New Testament. Except the concept of ‘original sin’
in Genesis, most of the biblical metaphors that deeply impressed
the imagination of Mizo readers—millenarianism, Mt Calvary’s
Cross, and the Holy Ghost—were to be found in their translated
New Testament. In 1941, the Rev. E.L. Mendus, too, sceptically
remarked how Mizo readers loved their New Testament: ‘Apart
from a few here and there the majority are devoted readers of the
New Testament, especially those passages that deal with the Holy
Spirit. When they meet together they are absolutely thrilled with
their religion; whether it is the right kind of thrill is another mat­
ter’.37
In the history of reading, the idea of being guided solely by the
light of the Holy Spirit was neither a new one, nor peculiar to the
Mizo case. The medieval church had a hard time with such inde­
pendent readers. In eleventh century Orleans, a group of lay nobles
 Reading the Open Book 149

relied on the Holy Spirit to the point of rejecting the scriptures as

‘the fabrications which men have written on the skins of animals’
(Moore 1975: 32). In fact, that radical reading of the Spirit claimed
its first victim in history to be burnt at the stake (Manguel 1997:
52). But the arrival of such reading controversies in different soci­
eties signaled print culture’s coming of age. In colonial Mizoram,
this crucial moment of autonomous reading came as quite late—
during the closing decade of the Raj in the 1940s.

Disciplining Kelkang: ‘Subversive’ Bible Readers

In May 1937, A.G. McCall, the Superintendent of Lushai Hills,
received intelligence about a potentially subversive ‘revivalism
cult’ in Kelkang. Located in east Mizoram, Kelkang is 15 km
from south-west of Champhai. What the colonial administration
labeled as a ‘cult’ was inspired by an innovative reading of the
Mizo Bible. At Kelkang village, some enterprising Bible readers
were determined to put their new literacy skills into best practice.
A.G. McCall remarked, ‘Three fairly hard-boiled Lushais put
their heads together and conceived the great idea that it would be
possible to capitalize the words in the Bible, where it was recorded
that the people ‘spoke in Tongues’ (1949: 220). Possessed by the
Holy Spirit, they claimed to be the medium through which Pathian
(God) spoke to human beings. Spirit possession by Pathian or
Khuavang was nothing new in traditional Mizo society. These
readers-turned-leaders uttered words which neither the speaker
nor the audience understood. These intoxicating exhibitions were
called vantawng (literally ‘heavenly speech’). It spawned several
imitative performers beyond Kelkang village.
With regular practice, the advocates of such novel practices
emerged as natural revival leaders. Thanghnuaia Ralte, Thang­
zinga and Pasina collectively guided this innovative exercise
(Chhawntluanga 1985). Ralte employed the triple technique of
vantawng performance, random Bible reading and down-to-earth
exegesis. Since he was illiterate, Ralte depended on literate others
while the random selection and exegesis remained his prerogative.
150 David Vumlallian Zou

But Pasina was equipped with literacy skills which enabled him to
assume the role of a Sunday school teacher and membership of the
local Church Committee (Lalsangmuana 1997).
To the outsider’s eyes of McCall, Ralte’s triple technique of
using the Bible appeared like tribal sorcery. So, the superintendent
punished the village chief for failing to contain ‘these sorcerers,
who had capitalized tradition with the help of the Bible …’ (McCall
1949: 223). As an assessment of Mizo revivals, this official opin­
ion was superficial and prejudiced. But this telling commentary
confirmed the subversive power of reading an open text like the
vernacular Bible. Even to the contemporary Christian audience,
the ecstatic speakers of unknown tongues would certainly resem­
ble the esteemed Khuvang-zawls, who were the local prophets
possessed by Khuavang spirit. After all, the performances greatly
impressed everyone in Kelkang.
Encouraged by their initial success, the Kelkang leaders
invented another new technique of Bible reading. McCall said that
‘they conceived the idea of opening the Bible at random and seek­
ing some direction on the open page’ (1949: 220). That involved
using the Bible as a divination tool. The traditional method of
divination, as practised by the village priest, was done through
fowls. In a lucky draw, a stray Bible passage might refer to animal
sacrifices. That would be a divine signal for feast time and sacrific­
ing animals. In fact, 27 animals were killed for feasting from July
to December 1937 (Kipgen 1997: 292). Other draws might trigger
unbelievably great expectations such as a passage about raining
of manna from heaven. That signalled nothing less than the ful­
filment of the millennial dream. It opened the way for at least a
momentary respite from relentless jhuming and ceaseless toiling.
Lloyd claimed that the Kelkang revivalists were ‘very persuasive
and, being convinced by their logic, the villagers has stopped all
work in the rice fields’ (Lloyd 1991: 298-9). Stretched to the limit,
the new technique of Bible reading hinted that Pathian could ‘rain
rice down from the skies’ (McCall 1949: 221). The Mizo preferred
rice to manna.
If only the Mizo could unlock the secrets of the Book, the
solution to all their problems might be hidden inside their Mizo
Bible. At Kelkang village, the new reading technique had already
 Reading the Open Book 151

delivered meat; and the open sky still held promises of rice. The
Bible, even as a translated text, appeared reassuringly authentic.
It provided inexhaustible ammunition for various Mizo readers.
The revivalist readers literally raided this classic treasure house.
In the past, the Mizos used to raid the tea gardens of Assam for
booty, now they raided the Bible instead. They saw in that Book a
house of treasures and ammunitions. The Kelkang revivalist lead­
ers snatched away usable tools. Armed with biblical ammunition,
the Kelkang revivalists boldly resisted both established Christian­
ity and colonial authorities. The local pastor was hounded out of
his own pulpit. Then they targeted the British Raj. As war clouds
for Second World War were gathering, they prophesied that ‘there
will be war and that the British will be found wanting’ (Kipgen
1997: 294). In the superintendent’s ears, no soothing music. Mil­
lennialism served as an unconscious conduit for generating a
sense of Mizo dignity and ‘redemption’. Though religious in form
and content, it was an expression of general discontent with British
Raj and missionary hegemony. Reflecting on the Kelkang incident,
the governor of Assam later remarked that it ‘contained dangerous
possibilities … to which Lushais are always prone and it has to be
carefully watched’ (Reid 1942: 47).
The Kelkang revivalists contrived an abortive plot to eliminate
the superintendent (A.G. McCall) from this world. The idea was
to dance in the fullness of the Holy Spirit and trample the superin­
tendent to death. In May 1937, Kelkang issued death threats to the
superintendent ‘if he interfered with the work of the Holy Spirit’
(Lloyd 1991: 299). A.G. McCall decided to act swiftly and took
Kelkang villagers by surprise at dawn. He was escorted by 36 Gur­
kha riflemen of the first battalion of the Assam Rifles. The houses
of all the revivalist leaders were surrounded. But Thanghnuaia
Ralte (whom McCall dubbed the ‘main ringleader’) was missing,
having gone out to the wilderness to pray. A search was ordered
and he was eventually arrested. Ralte was 36 years old at that time.
‘All the way to the camp a mile away’ remarked McCall, ‘this man
clutched a Bible and jumped about with dazed unseeing eyes …
talking in tongues as he went.… It took 10 solid days to drive a
little sense into the folks’ (1949: 222).
In the new Mizo converts, the superintendent saw nothing but
152 David Vumlallian Zou

the ‘wild Lushai within a Christian framework’ (McCall 1949: 223).

Behind the veneer of biblical theology, Mizo revival experiences
inscribed new ways of reading Christianity. The culturally alien
Book became user-friendly in indigenous idioms. As the local
representative of the British Raj, McCall assumed that the Welsh
missionaries had the final word on biblical exegesis within colonial
Lushai Hills. But he knew the Mizos increasingly challenged the
missionary monopoly of scriptural meaning. So, McCall predicted
that ‘the day would surely come when their own Lushai church
leaders and colleges would deny to their European preceptors their
right to give a final ruling on what the Bible did or did not sanc­
tion’ (McCall 1949: 223).
Adopting a ‘subaltern culture’ perspective, Vanlalchhua­
nawma read in such events creative tensions between the local
church and the Welsh mission. He claims that the Mizos ‘having
been subjugated and disarmed by the alien power, had nothing
but the milieu of cultural heritage to fall back upon, to stand the
wholesale assimilation threatened by Western imperialism and the
mission’ (Vanlalchhuanawma 2006: 456).

Year of Census No. of literates Literacy rate

1901 771 0.93
1911 3,635 3.98
1921 6,183 6.28
1931 13,320 10.70
1941 29,765 19.48
Source: Hluna 1992: 225.

Gendered Literacy: Male Authors and Female Readers

The spread of the alphabetical culture (often followed by print
technology) was unequally distributed across gender and class.
For the first time, Lushai language was reduced to writing in
1894 by two pioneer missionaries. In the Lushai Hills, Suaka and
Thangphunga were the earliest persons to learn and master the
new alphabets. Both became chiefs of Durtlang and Chaltlang,
respectively (Hluna 1992: 52). It was no accident that chiefs or their
 Reading the Open Book 153

sons happened to be the first batch of pupils to acquire literacy

skills. More importantly, the practice of literacy was essentially
gendered. Literacy statistics for the Lushai Hills (available since
the 1901 census) showed considerable gap in literacy rate between
the sexes throughout the colonial period (see table):
Literacy rate by sex in the Lushai Hills, 1901-195138

Year of Census Female literacy % Male literacy %

1901 0.14 0.53
1911 0.34 3.64
1921 1.06 5.22
1931 2.78 7.92
1941 8.44 11.04
1951 19.47 11.67

Not only did the literacy rate of Lushai women lag behind
men in quantitative terms, there was also a qualitative difference
in the type of education they received. As a rule, women acquired
vernacular literacy alone while some men had the benefit of Eng­
lish literacy. That may be the reason why writing remained a male
monopoly in colonial Mizoram. Within this gendered literacy,
male authors wrote for female readers. Secular literature was either
non-existent or too scanty. The bulk of reading material was reli-
gious—Bible commentaries and devotional pieces. As the flagship
Christian journal of the Mizo readers, Kristian Tlangau regularly
featured stories of pious people intended as conduct manuals. They
were often plucked out of context to make them fit for uncriti­
cal imitation. Typical examples included Mary Jones, Pandita
Ramabai and Miss Chemi. The name of Mary Jones, a Welsh girl,
was a household word for readers of Kristian Tlangau. The story
of this Calvinistic Methodist girl best exemplified a fetish for the
Bible and a desire to buy one’s personal copy. At the age of eight,
she reportedly ‘knew everything about God’s Book.… She knew
about the lives of Abraham, Joseph, David and Daniel’.39 Later, she
had an appetite not only to hear about the Bible, but to read it by
herself. Then Bibles were rare and dear since they were not yet
mass-produced. In 1800, Mary walked 26 miles from her village
154 David Vumlallian Zou

to Bala town in North Wales just to buy a copy of the Welsh Bible!
The Mizos were no less enthusiastic for their own vernacular Bible.
No wonder they never had enough of Mary Jones. Her story kept
appearing in the Mizo monthly from time to time. The fact that
the protagonist was female must have lent extra attraction to the
emergent women readers with vernacular literacy. As a mother
of eight kids, Mary ‘found comfort for her tears … in her con­
stant companion, her old Bible’ when some of her children passed
away.40 Different stories stood for different virtues for emulation.
Mary Jones represented a virtuous fixation for buying the Book to
devout readers.
If familiarity breeds contempt, unfamiliarity made Western
women (e.g. Mary Jones, Helen Keller,41 etc.) appealing to Mizo
readers as moral examples. Yet there were models nearer home.
As an obituary, Kristian Tlangau published the conversion story
of Ms Pandita Ramabai42 (1858-1922) in India and recast her
both as a defiant heroine and a woman of prayer. Born in a high-
caste Hindu family, a Brahmin, she converted to Christianity in
1883. Another example was of a Mizo girl called Chêmi who had
migrated to Kalemyo town (Burma) during a Mautam (bamboo)
famine43 in the Lushai Hills. She travelled 250 miles to Mandalay in
pursuit of high school education. She went on to become a nurse
during Second World War. By that time, nursing was not a new
career for Mizo girls.44 So, Chêmi was chosen here because of her
unusual degree of self-sacrifice amidst Japanese air raids. Kristian
Tlangau projected ‘her life as a beautiful testimony … so that every
girl in Mizoram may learn how to help others during hard times.’45
With the initiative of lady missionaries, the practice of holding
women’s meeting on Friday came into vogue. Bible reading was
one of the main focuses of the assemblies of women. Given the
nature of the audience, one may expect the focus of such reading
groups to be more women-oriented. But that did not seem to be
the case. Missionary reports in the 1920s and 1930s made occa­
sional references to the topics chosen for Bible readings. In 1929,
Ms Chapman and Ms Clark reported from the Baptist mission
in south Lushai, ‘The girls have taken a keen interest in the Bible
 Reading the Open Book 155

study circles on the “Fatherhood of God” which the teachers have

led.’46
The Welsh mission in north Lushai, too, conducted the same
type of women’s meeting on Fridays and they apparently discussed
the same sort of topics. For, Katie Hughes, a Welsh resident mis­
sionary, said they took classes on ‘the Manhood of the Master’ and
read Psalms together. She further said, ‘Then we tell (sic) what
we have learnt and felt, and pass on what may be of help to each
other.… The meeting I like best of all is the Women’s Meeting, held
on Fridays.’47
Though Friday Bible readings catered to an exclusively female
audience, the mission depended heavily on theologically trained
teachers to interpret the Biblical text. In colonial Mizoram, only
men received theological training as a preparation for full-time
ministry in the church. For a long time, it was assumed that women
had no business with this ‘serious’ subject. A hill woman may
aspire to be hospital nurse, school teacher or even Bible teacher
in the disguise of ‘Bible woman’—but not an ordained minister
of the Word. So women’s Bible readings often had little in the way
of choice in terms of the selection of topics. In 1930, Sister Olivia
reported a Bible class conducted by the Lushai nurses to study the
epistle of St Paul to the Philippians. She said their ‘desire might
be expressed in words something like Paul’s, that Christ shall be
magnified in us and in our service’48 (emphasis added). It was a bit
odd that a confirmed bachelor—if not a misogynist—like St Paul
should be held up to the tribal girls as a nursing model. The devout
nurses harboured a desire something like Paul’s, but not quite
Paul’s. To begin with, Lushai mothers did not share the enthusiasm
of lady missionaries about the Apostles or about Apostolic names.
While male models continued to be held up for emulation, a
Baptist mission report in the 1930s noted that ‘some talks have been
given on some of the women of the Bible’.49 This report from south
Lushai did not elaborate about women characters in the Bible.
However, there was a hint that the chosen biblical women must
have been very generous; for the same report proudly claimed ‘a
very successful effort made to get women … to give more liberally
156 David Vumlallian Zou

to the women’s fund for the church.’50 Meanwhile, report from the
Welsh mission in 1933 rejoiced that parental opposition to female
education had been largely overcome: ‘Lushai parents, at last, are
awakening to the value of education for their girls, and are deter­
mined to send to school however difficult it may be to spare them
from their homes. . . . One man said to me very seriously, “This is
women’s year.”’51
That improvement was more attitudinal than statistical. In
reality, statistical figure for female literacy in the 1930s was not
so impressive. It was an abysmal 2.78 per cent according to the
1931 census—about one third of male figure. Yet female literacy
quadrupled within that decade while the figures for male did not
even double. Mizo women began to participate actively in Sunday
Schools and scripture reading where they picked up and practised
their Bible-based literacy. In north Lushai, women in the 1930s
seemed to enjoy reading the Psalms and gradually moved on to
doctrinal debates. The Welsh missionary report in 1933 said:
At their request, we held a class with the women to read the Psalms. By
the end of the year we had reached the 22nd Psalm. Some of them cannot
read, but they have good memories, and a member of the family will
read the Psalm to them the night before. One woman said: ‘I couldn’t
understand these Psalms at all before coming here, but after getting a
little explanation, I can go home and give my husband a lesson!’ It was
delightful to think that she knew more than her husband!52

Understandably, literate women relished their new dignity

associated with the skills to read and understand the Bible for
themselves. They had access to nothing less than the authorita­
tive texts of the church. In the past, pagan priests maintained that
Mizo women had no sakhua (ancestral religion). But literate Mizo
women in the 1930s, though still a minority, did acquire a new
sakhua, which provided space for female agency. Another Welsh
mission report in 1935 remarked, ‘In the Women’s Meeting we
have gone as far as the 46th Psalm. The women are quite as anxious
as the men to learn God’s Word, and also to argue on questions of
doctrine. On the way to the market and in the rice fields, and after
the day’s work is over, God’s word is the topic of conversation’.53
 Reading the Open Book 157

The Mizo journal, Kristian Tlangau, published in April 1937

a letter with a pseudonym (Mizovi, literally meaning ‘Miss Mizo’);
it was addressed to women readers.54 The anonymous author sym­
pathized with the idea of women’s uplift while showing concern
about the unknown consequences of such social change. Though
the editors intended this ‘woman’s letter’ to be read as if by a fictive
female author, the context and content suggested otherwise. The
open letter reads, ‘In today’s Mizoram, women are entering into
strange and wonderful times. Gone are the days of our ancestors,
we are in the modern age. In an attempt to achieve our full poten­
tial, we even go to high school.…’55
Then, it strangely argued that such transformations were pos­
sible only ‘due to the efforts of our men and the ruling British sahibs
(Bawrh sap)’.56 The letter expressed concern that changing attitudes
toward domestic life, child care and bride price may erode ances­
tral customs. Mizovi evoked the Biblical injunction that man, as
the head of women, deserved respect: ‘Who should feel ashamed if
a house and its utensils get dirty? Howsoever intelligent our nation
may become, remember this is our eternal duty. . . . By nature, man
is not meant to wash up babies or train up the kids.’57
Later, Kristian Tlangau published an unsigned note penned by
a female writer in June 1940. Though the editors omitted the name
of the writer, they indicated that she was a resident of Tachhip
village. They even inserted an editorial comment, ‘Women never
write such self-oriented stuffs and this may be the first of its kind;
nevertheless they are valuable words.…’ The anonymous writer
took off from the premise that man is the head of women; but she
subverted the dominant patriarchal ideology with a hint of irony:
We allot loads of burdens beyond the strength of women; that is why our
nation remains wretched. Since man is the head of women, he ought to
look after more tasks in better ways. If the weaker sex works, the stron­
ger man should help her in any situation.… Men of other nations work
harder than women, and they earn respect.… Are our men weaker than
other men? Far from it, it’s just the lack of will power!58

A section of the hill women in colonial Mizoram (especially

since the 1930s) emerged as active readers of vernacular literature
158 David Vumlallian Zou

produced by male authorship. Women relatively lacked both

social confidence and English literacy to assert their authorial
voice. They were not supposed to have opinions of their own, but
the nameless writer from Tachhip village showed that they did
have different points of view. In the absence of a liberal concept
like ‘women’s right’, the Tachhip woman made her plea on macho
nationalist pride; and thus addressed Mizo men, ‘Those who work
harder have stronger mind and broader knowledge.… Let us move
toward maturity so as to beautify our nation.’ Unexpectedly, proto­
feminist voices found expression in the pages of evangelical print.59

Users of Printed Matter as Material Object

The translation of the Old Testament60 into Duhlian (Mizo) had
to wait 12 years even after the end of the British Raj. Till then,
readers got only the gist of the Old Testament as it was narrated in
The Story of the Bible (Raper 1961: 35). And F.W. Savidge remarked
that ‘the story of the Judges and the Kings of Israel and Judah, had
a fascinating interest for these warlike people’.61 In any case, the
tribal conflicts of ancient Israel could not fail to appeal to the hill
tribes of colonial north-east. In those barbarous stories, the tribal
converts could read back their own recent past; they could even
find legitimacy for the vices of tribal societies—sexism, patriarchy,
parochialism, sectarianism, clan divisions and national arrogance
(cf. Hill 1993). But these remained stories about the Old Testament,
but not the book itself. So, what we called the vernacular Mizo
Bible during the colonial era was actually the New Testament.
The Mizos got their first portion of the Bible in 1898 comprising
of the Gospels (according to Luke and John) with the Acts of the
Apostles. Due to its novelty, literate Mizos eagerly awaited these
Bible portions. They were thrilled by ‘the joy of being able to read
it for themselves’.62 Many Mizo readers cherished the memory of
smelling, touching and reading their first Bible portion long after
they got the New Testament in 1917. A resident Welsh missionary
Dr John Williams later remarked,
No other book will ever take its place in their affection, for this was the
first portion of the New Testament which they had read in their own
 Reading the Open Book 159

tongues. In those days they carried John’s Gospel with them to their work,
in order to glance at it during their dinner hour, and for fear something
might happen to it if they left it at home.63

The book gave credibility to the early converts and lay

preacher; it was a piece of material evidence that lent seriousness
to the whole business of propagating a new faith. The Mizo Book
was a cultural artefact, the new symbol of the birth of literate Mizo
print culture—something that can be admired by every Mizo
despite religious differences. In the Mizo psyche, the printed Bible
portions were an embodiment of their mythical story about a lost
leather scroll. An early Mizo convert, L.M. Chhinga thus recalled
the arrival of the Gospel of Luke in 1898:
People were fascinated to hear the verses of the Bible being read in their
own tongues. ‘So this is what the “Jehovo Book” is like which you are
always talking about.’ They were eager to look at it. Some of the elders
said, ‘We used to have a book at one time, it was made of leather.…’
(Lloyd 1991: 58-9)

Of the books of the New Testament, the Mizos best loved

their first gospel portions, but they were perhaps most fascinated
by rich symbolism of the Revelation. The last book of the New
Testament was replete with scary references to end times prophecy
by the Spirit. Where no other entertainment offers, literate Mizos
could not be blamed if they loved to be frightened by the Apoca­
lypse. In 1929, Katie Hughes reported from north Lushai, ‘They
are rather afraid of the Revelation, as there are so many different
views regarding its meaning.’64 At another level, this book of end
times offered the Mizo converts a new way of reading the future—
through linear Judeo-Christian teleos.
Though printed matters or books were primarily meant for
reading, their materiality readily lent themselves to several social
and extra-textual uses. In the eyes of an illiterate book user, books
would obviously be cultural artefacts. A bound book or printed
matter is a social product that enframes its expressive message in
a material medium (cf. McKenzie 2002). R.J. Mayhew, therefore,
cautions that ‘historians need to be aware of the material spatiality
of the texts’ (Mayhew 2007: 487). In the Lushai Hills, perhaps the
160 David Vumlallian Zou

earliest encounter with printed paper took place during a British

military campaign in the late nineteenth century. In his military
memoir, Woodthorpe observed that both newspapers and bottle
labels fascinated the invaded highlanders. They immediately saw a
possibility for adapting newspapers as fans or hoods for the head.
Traditionally, the Mizos used feathers of colourful birds for hair
decoration during festive seasons. No wonder they found the bold
colour of bottle labels irresistible for their hair knots. To quote
from Woodthorpe’s own account of the Lushai campaign:
Paper possessed great charm for them, and they would take newspapers
up and walk quietly off with them, not being at all abashed if stopped
and made to restore them; but when a paper was given them, they went
proudly away with it sticking up from the back of their turban (such as
they wore them) in the shape of a large fan or hood. Green and gold labels
of pickle bottles and brass labels of sardine boxes, found great favour as
decorations for their hair knots. (Woodthorpe 1873: 184-5)

The publication of a monthly Kristian Tlangau since 1911

made paper increasingly available throughout the Lushai Hills. So,
a number of village artisans started using pages from the monthly
as an alternative, if not a full substitute, to the rare hnahthial leaf
as an inner lining for Mizo bamboo-hat.65 Hnahthial (Phrynium
capitatum) is the name of a plant and also of its leaves. In his
Lushai dictionary, Lorrain remarked, ‘When growing in favour-
able soil this plant produces large tough leaves used extensively
by the Lushais for wrapping up rice for eating on a journey and
for other purposes’ (1940: 168). Before the coming of paper, the
hnahthial leaf was inventively utilized for packaging and the craft­
ing tribal hats. This popular leaf even found a place in Mizo folk
tale66 in which an injured lobster hurled curses on the hnahthial
leaf. The folk story-teller was at pains to explain the growing
scarcity of hnahthial supply in the Lushai Hills. The scarcity was
self-righteously attributed to the curses of the lobster, not to over­
harvesting by humans.
Besides the Mizo hat-makers, Christian as well as pagan smok­
ers fancied Kristian Tlangau for their own ends. The Mizos were
(and still are) heavy smokers; it was almost like a national pastime.
 Reading the Open Book 161

The first leaves of tobacco arrived in India around the seventeenth

century ad through Portuguese traders at Goa (Gokhale 1974). In
colonial Lushai Hills, male smokers used vaibêl (pipe) and female
smokers used a different type of water pipe. Paper-rolled cigars
offered more ease and convenience than pipes. A reliable supply
of paper in the hills was ensured by the steady increase in printed
materials, especially by Christian missions. Apparently, some
enterprising local folks even attempted to make money by selling
cigars rolled from the pages of the Tlangau. By 1915, the new fash­
ion of literally smoking the Mizo journal provoked a Christian by
the name of Hlova of Theiriat village to write:
Some persons are in the habit of rolling into cigar the leaves of godly
books, the Tlangau, or other periodicals. The Bible is our guidebook to
eternal life for Christians; so it is most unwarranted to roll its leaves into
cigar for sale. It would be better to use vaibêl for our Mizo people. The
use of Tlangau pages for smoking purpose is a disincentive to the journal
producers.67

It was not difficult to understand why Mr Hlova felt disturbed

by the way Mizo smokers used the Tlangau. Mizo Christian con­
verts would agree with the editors who accorded a sacred value
to their journal. They considered the Tlangau not as an ordinary
monthly, but as a valuable book. The editors urged the monthly
readers to compile all half-yearly issues into a single volume. That
volume would be a family asset and Christian resource; and the
editors advised, ‘You may like to read again old issues which con­
tain valuable thoughts and divine teaching.’68
Apart from the Tlangau monthly, printed portions of the gos­
pel were the earliest kind of books known to the Mizos. The New
Testament in Mizo was not published till 1916. Even with their
Bible portions, the Mizos lost no time in assigning symbolic and
ritualistic merits to their sacred booklets. Among others, Bibles
were given away as symbolic prizes in competitions, especially
during Children’s Festivals.69 In 1914, a Baptist mission report
from south Lushai reads: ‘The fact that during the past year they
[Lushais] have either purchased or won as prizes for learning to
read 2,648 scripture portions (some of which were bound together
162 David Vumlallian Zou

in volume form) shows what good use they are making of what
they already have’.70
Early Christian converts in the Lushai Hills recognized the
ritualistic merit of enlisting the Bible in their rites of passage
like burial and funeral custom. The missionaries noticed this
unexpected use of the Bible, but they did not interfere with this
‘endearing custom’ of the Lushai. A resident Welsh missionary,
Lloyd remarked how the Bible found a niche as a popular burial
item:
It had always been the Mizo custom to bury certain things along with
the body.… Some were obviously an extension of the personality of he
one who had died.… Christians also often maintain this rather supersti­
tious but endearing custom and may place a Bible in the coffin along with
other items. (Lloyd 1991: 113)

Conclusion
As a pioneer of literacy and schools, missionary print (especially
by the Welsh Calvinistic mission) provided unique access to
the history of reading and literacy for the Lushai Hills of British
Assam. In terms of intent, the use of paper (or books) as material
artefact (rolled cigar, hat lining, etc.) usually predated the reading
of books as hermeneutical texts. Moreover, the historical shift was
broadly from education to entertainment. By the late colonial
period, reading for instruction gave way to reading for pleasure
among Mizo readers.
This study includes English-language as well as Mizo-language
texts to identify various categories of emergent textual readers and
book users. I have noted the gendered and vernacular character
of Mizo readers. Against stiff opposition by Mizo church elders,
the gradual arrival of Welsh women in the Lushai Hills resulted
in the beginning of schools for the girl child and literacy for adult
women. The history of reading sheds a ray of light on how Mizo
women make use of their literacy and literary skills. With the
spread of Mizo-language literacy, the history of reading recorded
another level of social tension between the Welsh foreign mis­
sionary establishment and the subaltern lay readers. The Kelkang
 Reading the Open Book 163

incident of 1937 illustrates how literal interpretation of the ver­

nacular Mizo Bible resulted in local millennialism. The event
was subversive enough to push the Calvinistic missionary to take
more rationalistic positions in Biblical interpretation and to bet­
ter appreciate the value of secular type of education in the Lushai
Hills. The vernacular Bible caught the British off guard with its
potential use as a tool of anti-colonial protest.

Notes
1. Census of India 1931, vol. III, Assam Part I – Report by C.S. Mullan,
MA, ICS, Shillong: Superintendent, Assam Government Press,
p. 174.
2. Ibid.
3. BMS Report 1907, ‘Arthington Mission to the Lushai tribe’ by J.
Herbert Lorrain and Mrs. Lorrain, pp. 36-46.
4. The missionaries explained such ‘backslidings’ in terms of illiteracy
and strong ‘emptations’. In the Biblical idiom of F.J. Raper, ‘the
temptations around them [Pawihs] proved too strong’. From the
tribal point of view, this is a testimony to the tenacity of pagan
culture in interior Pawih areas where the colonial contact was less
intense. In Lushai mission history, the south was the last bastion of
pagan culture.
See BMS Report 1935, ‘South Lushai Hills’ by F.J. Raper, pp. 321-5.
5. BMS Report 1935, ‘South Lushai Hills’ by F.J. Raper, pp. 321-5.
6. Reports of FMPCWM 1935-6, ‘The Report of the North Lushai
Hills’, by Rev. David Edwards, pp. 133-4.
7. BMS Report 1914, ‘Education’ by F.W. Savidge, pp. 119-20.
8. Ibid.
9. BMS Report 1908, ‘Education’ by F.W. Savidge, pp. 54-6.
10. BMS Report 1915, ‘Lushai Literature’, pp. 128-9.
11. Reports of FMPCWM, 1934-5, ‘Report of the North Lushai Hills’ by
Rev. David Edwards, pp. 122-4.
12. ATC Arhives, Durtlang (Aizawl), ‘Hualtu Library Chanchin’, Kristian
Tlangau, pp. 5-7.
13. Ibid.
14. Ibid.
15. Ibid.
164 David Vumlallian Zou

16. Reports of FMPCWM, 1941-2, ‘The Report of the Lushai Hills’ by

Dr. Gwyneth Roberts, pp. 169-70.
17. BMS Report 1937, ‘South Lushai Hills – Boys’ Education’ by H.W.
Carter, pp. 352-5.
18. ATC Archives, Durtlang (Aizawl), ‘Lekha bu chhiar’ by YLA,
Kristian Tlangau, pp. 93-4.
19. Ibid.
20. Ibid.
21. Ibid.
22. BMS Report 1937, ‘Boy’s Education’ by H.W. Carter, pp. 352-5.
23. Ibid.
24. Ibid.
25. The Mizo theologian Vanlalchhuanawma (2006) characterized this
religious and cultural event as the ‘Stirring of 1913’; he interpreted
the event as ‘subaltern’ and ‘revivalist’ response to the missionary
domiance. Led by almost invisible local leaders, these cultural
awakenings resembled millenarian movements elsewhere.
26. Free translation from Kristian Hla Bu (No. 141) compiled by Synod
Literature & Publication Board, Aizawl, 2004.
27. Ibid.
28. Reports of FMPCWM, 1931-2, ‘Report of the North Lushai Hills’ by
Dr. John Williams, pp. 107-8.
29. Reports of FMPCWM, 1936-7, ‘Report of the North Lushai Hills’ by
Rev. David Edwards, pp. 136-9.
30. Reports of FMPCWM, 1938-9, ‘Reports of the North Lushai Hills’ by
Rev. E.L. Mendus, pp. 154-7.
31. Ibid.
32. Ibid.
33. Ibid.
34. Ibid.
35. Ibid.
36. Ibid.
37. Reports of FMPCWM, 1941-2, ‘Report of the North Lushai Hills’ by
Rev. E.L. Mendus pp. 163-4.
38. Compiled and computed from the data available in Census of India
1931 (Assam) and Tribal Research Institute (1991) Mizo Women
Today.
39. ATC Archives, Durtlang (Aizawl), D.E. Jones, 1944, ‘Sap Nula Mary
Jones leh a Baibl’, Kristian Tlangau, June, pp. 59-63.
 Reading the Open Book 165

40. ATC Archives, Durtlang (Aizawl), Kristian Tlangau, June 1944,

pp. 59-63.
41. ATC Archives, Durtlang (Aizawl), ‘Hellen Kelleri’ (Helen Killer),
Kristian Tlangau, pp. 7-8.
42. ATC Archives, Durtlang (Aizawl) Kristian Tlangau, July 1922,
‘Pandita Ramabai Hriatrengna’.
43. The Lushai hills were visited by bamboo famine in 1862, 1880, 1911,
1929 and 1959 (see Zawla 1964). Chêmi’s family must have migrated
to Burma during the famine of 1929.
44. ATC Archives (Durtlang), Kristian Tlangau, June 1942, pp. 50-1.
45. Ibid.
46. BMS Report 1929, ‘Women’s Work’ by Miss Chapman and Miss
Clark, pp. 257-60.
47. Reports of FMPCWM, 1937-8, ‘Girls School and Women’s Work in
Aijal’ by Miss Katie Hughes, pp. 147-8.
48. BMS Report 1930, ‘Medical Work’ by Sister Olivia, pp. 270-1.
49. BMS Report 1933, ‘South Lushai in 1933’ by Miss E.M. Chapman,
Sister E.M. Oliver, Sister I.M. Good, Mr. & Mrs. Carter, Mr. & Mrs.
Raper, pp. 295 - 305.
50. BMS Report 1930, ibid.
51. Reports of FMPCWM, 1932-3, p. 115.
52. Ibid.
53. Reports of FMPCWM, 1934-5, p. 126.
54. ATC Archives (Durtlang), Mizovi, ‘Hmeichhe Hnena Hmeichhe
Lekha Thawn’, Kristian Tlangau, April 1937, pp. 36-7.
55. ATC Archives (Durtlang), Kristian Tlangau, April 1937, pp. 36-7.
56. Ibid.
57. Ibid.
58. ATC Archives (Durtlang), ‘Tachhip Khuaa Hmeichhe Pakhat Ziak’,
Kristian Tlangau, June 1940, p. 45.
59. ATC Archives (Durtlang), Kristian Tlangau, June 1940, p. 45.
60. The complete Mizo Bible appeared both in Mara dialect (1956)
and standard Lushai (1959) during the post-colonial era. A radical
reading of the Old Testament led to the theory of the Mizos not only as
a ‘chosen tribe’ figuratively, but as a ‘lost tribe’ of Israel literally. Some
Mizos claimed to be a lost Bnei Manashe tribe and had imigrated
in hundreds to their ‘homeland’ (Israel) with the support of right-
wing Jewish and fundamental Christian bodies. This politics of lost
tribes, S. Weil suspects, was ‘inspired by a fanciful interpretation of
the Bible’ (2003: 51).
166 David Vumlallian Zou

61. BMS Report 1915, ‘Education’ by F.W. Savidge, pp. 130-3.

62. Reports of FMPCWM, 1934-5, ‘Report of the North Lushai Hills’
(North-East district) by Dr. John Williams, pp. 124-5.
63. Ibid.
64. Reports of FMPCWM, 1928-9, ‘The Report of the North Lushai
Hills’, p. 89.
65. This information was first divulged to me during an interview with
B. Lalthangliana, a Mizo historian—author of Mizo Literature: Mizo
thu leh hla (2004)—interviewed at Chhinga Veng, Aizawl on 27
April 2005.
66. Laltluangliana Khiangte (1997) said there were two versions for
the tale of Chemtatrawta (meaning ‘Sharpener of Dao’). Khiangte
recorded the later version from his grandfather Rev. Liangkhaia
and his grandmother. There was no reference to the hnahthial
plant and the curse of the lobster in the older version. Evidently the
new version was an interpolation at a later time when the hnathial
plant was becoming scarce due to increasing demand on this forest
resource.
67. Synod Office Archives, Aizawl, ‘Lekha Zial Zuk Pawi-mawh Thu’,
Kristian Tlangau, September 1915, p. 147.
68. SOA, Aizawl, Kristian Tlangau, ‘Hriat-tirna’ by Editors, November
1911.
69. Reports of FMPCWM 1938-39, ‘Girls’ School and Women’s Work’
by Miss Katie Hughes, pp. 157-8.
70. BMS Report 1914, ‘Translation Work’ by J.H. Lorrain, p. 118.

References
Fischer, Steven Roger, 2003, A History of Reading, London: Reaktion
Books Ltd.
Peel, J.D.Y., 1968, Aladura: A Religious Movement among the Yoruba,
London: OUP (for International African Studies).
Vanlalchhuanawma, 2006, Christianity and Subaltern Culture: Revival
Movement as a Cultural Response to Westernisation in Mizoram,
Delhi: Indian Society for the Propagation of Christian Knowledge
(ISPCK).
 CHAPTER 7

Christian Missionaries among the Karbis

DONALD TERON

Among the various Christian denominations working in north­

east India, it was the American Baptist Foreign Mission Society,
followed by the Welsh Presbyterian Mission and the Roman
Catholic Mission, that came to work among the Karbis of present
Karbi Anglong district. While work among the Karbis by the
American Baptist Mission was undertaken from the Nowgong
station, the Presbyterian Mission entered from the N.C. Hills
district through a native convert when he migrated to Umpanai
in West Karbi Anglong in 1892. He, Sangbar Kro, happened to be
the first Presbyterian convert among the Karbis and the seed of
the gospel was sown by him among his people at Umpanai.1 The
Roman Catholic Mission initially did not venture into the Karbi
area but worked from the Khasi and Jaintia Hills of Meghalaya.
Even baptism for the early converts was undertaken inside the
Khasi-Jaintia area. A mission station in the heart of Karbi Anglong
could be established by them only in 1967. By virtue of being the
first to contact with the Karbis and, perhaps, due to the existing
comity agreements, the American Baptist missionaries got the
major responsibility of working among the tribe. Even today,
the majority of Karbi Christians belong to the American Baptist
denomination.

The Advent of the American Baptist Missionaries

The plan of working among the Karbis was initiated in the year
1857 when Rev. Miles Bronson and William Ward undertook a
168 Donald Teron

tour of the Karbi inhabited area. In his diary, William Ward writes,
‘The Mikirs, one of the hill tribes of Assam, have been repeatedly
noticed on our pages as holding out peculiar opportunity, and
encouragement to evangelical labour.’2 In the Baptist Missionary
Magazine of November 1854, Nathan Brown writes:
The Mikirs are one of the most interesting tribes in Assam … and are a
mild, quiet and industrious race. They very much resemble the Karens.
We should be glad to make some efforts for their conversion, but it would
be a folly to extend our labours, while we are unable even to carry on the
mission we have already established among the Assamese.3

In spite of the dearth of missionaries at that time, Miles Bron­

son did not hesitate to include the Karbis in their mission’s list and
after his tour in 1857 he wrote to the Home Board, to spare a mis­
sionary for them. In his journal which was published in February
1857, he writes,
I have taken a most interesting excursion, accompanied by Mr Ward,
over a section of the Mikir Hills where no missionary and probably no
European has ever been this tour, which I can truly say was the most
interesting of my whole missionary life. These simple-hearted people
seemed ready to welcome us everywhere, and listened eagerly to all we
had to say … which led me to devote some effort to preparing an elemen­
tary catechism in Mikir, giving them, as simply as possible, the out lines
of Christianity in their own tongue.4

The tour that Miles Bronson and William Ward undertook was
accompanied by a Karbi young man who acted as an interpreter. In
one of their reports, it reads:
A few understood Assamese pretty well; but we depended chiefly upon
the young man, Long Bong, to interpret and explain what we had said.
Though a young man of most quiet manners, we were astonished at
the eloquence and power with which he seemed to electrify and sway
the minds of the whole company. In perfect naturalness and beauty of
gesture, and control over the passions of others, he could hardly be sur­
passed by the most studied orator; but he seemed to be as self-forgetful
and artless as a child. As he explained and enlarged upon what we said,
a burst of approval broke forth from the whole company, and sometimes
 Christian Missionaries among the Karbis 169

paroxysms of laughter. Had you been present with us, as we sat on the
floor, with this company around us, you might have seen tears; and
you could not but have felt with us an agony of prayer that God would
make that young man a preacher of the gospel to his countrymen. He
has promised to come to Nowgong to learn during the next rains, and
become a true Christian.5

The report sent by Rev. Miles Bronson to the Home Board

of the American Baptist Foreign Mission Society (ABFMS) was
accepted and in 1859 the board appointed Rev and Mrs C.F. Tol­
man for the newly created Mikir department of the Nowgong
Mission. Rev. Miles Bronson deserves to be called the ‘torchbearer’
of all mission activities in Karbi Anglong. Rev and Mrs C.F. Tol­
man arrived at Nowgong in May 1859.6 Tolman was the son-in-law
of Rev. Miles Bronson. The Tolmans were specially designated to
work among the Karbis, but upon their arrival they had to take
charge of the Nowgong station. However, they made a tour to the
Mikir hills the following winter and in this tour Rev. Tolman had
been infected by malaria which broke down his health. He was
compelled to go back to America in June 1861 having been on
the field for only two years. Revd Cyrus Fisher Tolman was born
on 25 October 1832, at Meridian, New York.7 He was ordained on
20 October 1858, at Calvary Baptist Church, New York. He
completed his theological course in the Hamilton Literature
and Theological Institute in 1858. He married Rebecca Bronson,
the daughter of Rev. Miles Bronson who was the first Christian
missionary to arrive in Assam. The marriage took place in Octo­
ber 1858, the date he was ordained. He had four children from
the marriage, two sons named Edgar and John Newell and two
daughters named Minie Luzzio and Julia Ruth. He was assigned to
work among the Mikirs (Karbis) of Assam on 17 September 1858,
and he sailed for Assam two months later in the same year on 26
November 1858, to reach Nowgong in Assam on 25 May 1859. He
returned to the United States in June 1861 due to ill health after
working among the Mikirs for less than two years. In the United
States, he served as a Pastor of St Laurence Church, Massachu­
setts. After the departure of the Tolmans, the station was left at the
hands of Dr and Mrs Bronson, the in-laws of C.F. Tolman. They
170 Donald Teron

worked without any companions till November 1863 when Rev.

and Mrs E.P. Scott arrived, having been assigned specially for the
Mikir department. Rev. and Mrs E.P. Scott were the second des­
ignated American Baptist missionary couple to the Karbis. They
arrived at Nowgong in 1863 and started serving with deep love
and commitment. Rev. Scott died at Nowgong on 18 May 1869,
due to cholera and was buried there. His wife continued to serve
until January 1971.

The First Karbi Convert

The first recorded Karbi convert was baptized in October 1863
by Rev. Miles Bronson.8 The convert namely Rongbong Killing, a
government mauzadar, was baptized at Nowgong and later became
a member of the Nowgong Baptist Church. Andrew was his given
Christian name. He married an Assamese lady who was then a
teacher at Nowgong Christian Patty. His native place was Amguri
bordering the present Karbi Anglong district. The missionaries
at Nowgong greatly hoped that Rongbong would act as a catalyst
among his people and bring many to Christ. But unfortunately, he
was a weak Christian who had to be frequently disciplined by the
Church at Nowgong. He died while he was under discipline. 9
When Rev. and Mrs E.P. Scott entered the field, they worked
with enthusiasm but soon fell ill because of the unhealthy climate
of Karbi Anglong. They worked very hard for about two years but
had to return to America owing to ill health. They were able to
return in 1868 but could remain in Karbi Anglong only for one
year. Rev. E.P. Scott died of cholera at Nowgong on 18 May 1869.
According to Rev. P.H. Moore’s report, he had been greatly inter­
ested in the Mikir people and had endeared himself to them so
that they felt his death as a real benevolent.10 Rev. and Mrs R.E.
Neighbour who had been designated as the successor of Rev. E.P.
Scott in the work among the Mikirs arrived in January 1871. 11
Rev. Neighbour took up in earnest the work for the Mikirs but due
to ill health he had to retire from the field in 1878. 12 F.S. Downs
writes, ‘Missionary service among the Mikirs was proving to be
 Christian Missionaries among the Karbis 171

an unhealthy occupation.’13 In 1874, the Neighbours were left in

charge of Nowgong station and the works for the Mikirs were
neglected. When Rev. and Mrs Neighbour went to America on
furlough in 1878, from that time until January 1891 there was no
missionary for the Mikirs. During this 13-year period, Rev. P.H.
Moore included the Mikirs in his work as much as possible and in
1883 the Church at Nowgong supported a preacher to them. 14 The
evangelist namely Sarlok Tokbi, a Karbi, was the first convert from
the eastern part of Karbi Anglong. He received a monthly hono­
rarium of Rs. 8 to preach the gospel among his people. 15 In January
1891, Rev. P.E Moore, the brother of Rev. P.H Moore, came to work
among the Karbis. He married Mrs Charlotee Pursell and at once
set up a temporary headquarter at Krungjeng (modern Kolonga)
in West Karbi Anglong. Rev. P.E Moore spent three winter seasons
and Mrs Moore one at Krungjeng.

The Search for Permanent Headquarters

In January 1895, Rev. J.M. Carvel, an Englishman by birth, arrived
and joined the Moore family in the Mikir Hills. Rev. Carvel
married Miss Amy of Nowgong and proceeded to Krungjeng.
Krungjeng was not a suitable place for establishing permanent
headquarters for the Karbis. Immediately, after the conference in
1895, P.E. Moore and J.M. Carvel made an extensive tour in the
Mikir Hills trekking south, north and east as far as Golaghat. They
made this tour on foot covering hundreds of miles. But due to the
nomadic nature of the Mikirs they could not find a permanent
concentration of population. They returned to Nowgong on
7 April 1896. In May of the same year, P.E. Moore made another
tour south of the Borpani tea garden and finally found the right
building spot. In October, P.E. Moore accompanied by his brother
P.H. Moore and J.M. Carvel went to the spot and selected Tika
Anglong (Tika Hills) as the future home of the missionaries.16
Besides Tika Anglong, the missionaries inspected Socheng, Tirkim
and Sermanthu, but Tika Hills seems to be the right choice as it
is near to Kampur Railway Station and the Sidgamari Tea Estate
172 Donald Teron

where a European family resides. Rev. J.M. Carvel proceeded at

once to building and Rev. P.E. Moore went to Krungjeng where
he had already spent two winters. Mrs Moore joined him at
Krungjeng on 1 December 1896. On 18 January 1897, they left
for Tika Anglong. Arriving there the next day, Mrs Carvel came
out from Nowgong in February 1897. Four happier, more hopeful
men and women would have been hard to find. The houses were
finished, plastered and whitewashed before the rains set in. The
American Baptist Missionary Union had allowed Rs. 500 for a
temporary house in the hills. The houses at Krungjeng with out­
house and servants’ houses had been built at a cost of Rs. 130. The
remaining Rs. 370 was spent on the building at Tika Anglong.

Deaths of Missionaries
The mission work was upset by the death of Laura Amy Carvel
in August 1897. She was the first missionary to be buried at
Tika Hills. On 19 December of the same year, Rev. J.M. Carvel
remarried Miss Alice Parker of Nowgong and he began to work
at Tika again. Laura Amy Carvel was born in 1862 at Wisconsin.17
She was appointed as a missionary in 1890. She was married to
Rev. J. M. Carvel on 3 August 1895. During the period of her stay
in Mikir Hills she was stationed at Tika Hills from early 1897. She
died on 1 August 1897 during childbirth.
Another death that unsettled the missionary work was that of
Mrs Moore. Mrs Moore died at Tika on 9 May 1907 when Rev.
and Mrs Carvel were on a furlough. Due to the death of his wife
Rev. P.E. Moore, too, was deeply hurt and his health deteriorated.
He went on a furlough to America in 1909. Mrs Moore worked
dedicatedly and loved the Mikirs till the end of her time.18 Char­
lotte Pursell Moore was the younger sister of Mrs M.C. Mason
of Tura, Garo Hills.19 She was married to Rev. P.E. Moore on
9 October 1891, at Tura, which was solemnised by Rev. William
Carey (grandson of William Carey, father of modern mission).
The Moore couple had their temporary station 18 miles away from
Nowgong. Their son, Carrey Pitt Moore, was born on 9 September
1892. Mother and son went to America in June 1894 and returned
 Christian Missionaries among the Karbis 173

to Nowgong in December 1894. She died at Tika in 1908. After

returning from America, Rev. J.M. Carvel was transferred back to
Nowgong and for a while to Golaghat where he was given other
responsibilities in addition to the Karbi work. Rev. Carvel then
returned to Tika where he served until his death in 1925.
Mrs Alice Parker Carvel, the second wife of Rev. Carvel, went
to America taking with her their young son. According to the
inhabitants of Tika Hills, particularly Sri Chandra Timung, who
celebrated his 110th birthday in 2007, Mrs Carvel left her hus­
band because her husband contracted a severe skin disease.20 Rev.
Carvel was relieved from the mission’s activities and did not stay at
the mission station at Tika but constructed a house in Tika village.
After his retirement, his relatives, particularly his sister, used to
send him money from America. During the years of his loneliness
at Tika Hills, he became intimate with a Karbi woman, a widow
named Kajek Terangpi who used to attend to his domestic chores.21
Rev. Carvel presented a diamond and some silver jewellery to
Kajek. Later, the diamond was sold to Hijal Ingti and the silver
jewellery, nothengpi, to the sar-ik Terang (governor of Terang) of
the Bordongka Baptist Church. According to the account of Kave
Ronghangpi, Rev. Carvel committed suicide out of shame, frustra­
tion and loneliness. However, Sri Chandra Timung recounts that
Rev. Carvel did not show any sign of suffering but died in his sleep.
The doors and windows of the house were locked from inside
when the domestic helper went to the house in the morning. Find­
ing no response from Rev. Carvel, she alerted the villagers. The
villagers had to break the door down and they found Rev. Carvel
already dead. The matter was communicated to the nearest British
authority, the tea garden manager of Sidgamari Tea Estate. Thus,
Rev. Carvel might have died in his sleep or he might have com­
mitted suicide by consuming poison as told by Kave Ronghangpi.
Rev. Carvel was buried at Tika Hills alongside his first wife. A long
obituary note written by Rev. G.R. Kampfer on 8 December 1925,
was sent by Rev. Tom Horn for the sesquicentennial celebration
of the gospel in Karbi Anglong (1859-2009) which is reproduced
below.
174 Donald Teron

John Moses Carvel, the Most Loved Missionary in Karbi

Another deep-felt loss was sustained by the missionaries in Assam
on 30 October 1925, in the death of Rev. John Moses Carvel,
missionary to the Mikirs. This sad message was brought into
Nowgong by runners who made the trip from the hills post haste
and it was 10 days before one of our missionaries in the plains
could reach Mount Tika where the remains of our brother lie
beside those of his first wife in the mission compound. The blow
was felt all the more coming at a time when so many other losses
had already left our hearts very heavy.
Mr Carvel was born in London, England on 28 January 1866.
In 1887, he was brought to America, where he became a conse­
crated Christian and pledged his life to Christ in foreign mission
service. He arrived in Nowgong, Assam, on 5 January 1895, where
for two years he gave his undivided attention to the study of the
Mikir language. And here he was wisely mentored by the Late
Rev. P.H. Moore. He also became acquainted with Miss Amy of
the Nowgong Girl’s school whom he married and took to Mount
Tika but she was not destined to share the trials of an almost unap­
proachable hill station with her husband for long. Death claimed
her on the altar of mission service. In 1908-9, Rev. Carvel was
again in Nowgong and from 1909 to 1921 Golaghat was his head­
quarters for work among the Mikirs. He was married again to Miss
Alice Mound Parker of England. A son, Doughlas J., was born to
him by this marriage on 28 March 1901, who is now living with his
mother in Kansas City. Two sisters, Jane and Elizabeth of Augusta,
Michigan, also mourn his loss.
Mr Carvel was a man of a generation of missionaries who
walked in paths where we, men of a younger period, cannot fol­
low. People sometimes thought he preferred the company of his
Indian friends to that of men of his own race. His heart was in the
Mikir Hills and he often passed the remark that it was there that he
would be buried. He, himself, said that he had become a Mikir in
body and spirit. And yet he was no recluse, nor had he lost touch
with the thought of this day and generation. In conversation, he
 Christian Missionaries among the Karbis 175

spoke well informed. He translated and preached the old gospel

and contended for the faith once for all delivered to the saints. We
have every reason to rejoice that his efforts were not in vain for
a work began that bids fair to lead a host to Christ. He made the
spreading of the message of salvation his first duty, the translation
of the word his second duty and conversation and building up of
leaders his third unceasing task.
Few will ever realize what the task was that confronted him
and his colleague in this work among the Mikirs, a race hedged in
behind by the sturdy Khasis and in front by the clever plain Assa­
mese; ground between these millstones, the Mikirs became the
most notorious opium eaters in Assam, neglected and intimidated.
Mr Carvel told a number of us of some of his early difficulties.
When he came to Tika the first time to begin his labours he was
obliged to carry his own luggage and tents up to the summit on his
own back. It took him four days. The people fled. One man, braver
than the rest, left some plantains and an egg and ran. The second
day he left some more supplies. The Mikir king, hearing of this,
fined the poor Mikir Rs 10. This mount was taboo, supposedly
inhabited by the demon, Tika. Here, this courageous missionary
built his bungalow on the very summit and defied all the demons
of Mikir land. The Christian community increased to its present
strength of about 500 souls. For the last year and eight months,
Mr Carvel had spent his days here alone as an independent mis­
sionary, adding his knowledge of the people, of the language, and
of the prospects of the gospel to the feeble efforts the missionary
society could put forth during those days of spiritual famine and
depletion of our forces. He had built himself a modest house near
Tika and was about to build himself another house two days jour­
ney farther in the interior and at a much higher altitude and had
already felled a number of trees for this purpose when he came
down with a two-week attack of obstinate malaria from which his
death resulted.
He had given himself unreservedly to his people. And no
greater blow could have come to his poor bewildered flock than
that he should rise no more from his shelter to watch beside their
176 Donald Teron

beds of pain through the long night hours, to visit them no more in
their affection, nor to advise them in their difficulties nor be their
spokesman in affairs that affected their government.
Mr Carvel left a beautiful legacy in Assam, in the numbers of
buildings he erected among which are the mission bungalows of
Jorhat, Golaghat and Satribari (Gauhati), the girls school building,
Gauhati, the spacious boys dormitory, Jorhat, and last but not the
least, the Shirk Memorial Church, Golaghat. But most precious of
all is the legacy he left in his life wholly devoted to the service of
others, the memory of his serene spirit and the faithfulness of his
walk in the steps of the Master.

Disappointment of the Mission’s Secretary

Rev. A.J. Tuttle, the mission secretary, felt that effort of the
missionaries for the progress of the Karbis was discouraging. In spite
of their relentless sacrifices, very few Karbis accepted the Christian
message. The mission secretary felt that this is a waste of time and
money and decided to abandon the Tika mission compound.
Establishment of a new station for the Karbis at Jamnamukh near
Nowgong was planned by him, but this did not materialize, work
for the Karbis was thus carried on from Nowgong. To add to the
woes of the missionaries, the Tika station was burnt by fire due to
a ‘bolt from the sky’ on 15 October 1916. Rev. P.E. Moore reported
that medicines, mission records, books, film materials, pianos and
other valuables were destroyed in the fire.22 Thus, as per the order
of the mission secretary, Rev. P.E Moore left Tika Hills on March
1917, but he continued his work for the Karbis from Nowgong.

The Coming of Rev. W.R. Hutton

In spite of the abandonment of the Tika station, the missionaries
did not give up hope and continued their work from Nowgong
station through the likes of Rev. P.E. Moore, Rev. J.M. Carvel and
O.L. Swanson. In 1918, Rev. W.R. Hutton left America and arrived
at Nowgong. The same year, Rev. O.L. Swanson gave the charge of
the Karbi field to Rev. W.R. Hutton. In 1924, when Rev. P.E. Moore
 Christian Missionaries among the Karbis 177

left for America, Rev. W.R. Hutton became the sole in charge for
Karbi affairs.
Of all the missionaries designated for the Karbis, Rev. W.R.
Hutton served for the longest period. He gave his service for about
30 years in the midst of trials and suffering. Rev. W.R. Hutton was
born in the state of Iowa, USA, on 18 October 1889. For about 10
years, he remained in his birthplace and was an obedient child.
From his early years, he helped his parents in the field and attended
church services regularly. He even used to present songs during
Christmas in the church. At the age of eight, he read the whole
Bible from Genesis to Revelation and could remember most of the
Bible stories. His mother used to accompany him to the church
and she became the source of inspiration to young William. In the
living room of the Hutton’s, there hung a picture of Dr Livingstone
and young William used to be curious to know the story of the
greatest missionaries of all times.
The state of Iowa is extremely cold during winter and it did
not suit the Huttons, especially William’s father. Due to this rea­
son they migrated to Oklahoma, a much warmer place. Being an
agriculturist, William’s father cultivated cereals like wheat and also
varieties of fruits at Oklahoma and young William often helped his
father alongside attending school regularly. School was situated at
a distance of two miles from their home.
Before passing high school, William was compelled to teach
primary school. While as a teacher, he read the stories of the mis­
sionaries working in China, and he decided to become a missionary.
In 1908, he passed the matriculation examination and joined
South-Western College for further studies. After four months of
his enrolment at the college his father died but his mother contin­
ued to support him and he got his BA degree in 1912. For a year,
he joined service and later enrolled himself at Groyer Theological
Seminary in Pennsylania. After studying for a year at the seminary,
he enrolled himself at the school of divinity in Chicago Univer­
sity and got his MA and BD degrees in 1918. While studying at
Chicago University, he met Miss Elsie Cloe Sprecer and they got
married in 1917. After his marriage, the American Baptist Foreign
Missionary Union appointed him as a missionary for India and
178 Donald Teron

after the end of the First World War he sailed for India along with
his wife and reached Gauhati in the month of March 1918. After a
year, he went to Nowgong. In 1920, a daughter, Virginia, was born
to them. In the annual conference of 1920 held in Nowgong, Rev.
O.L. Swanson attended and he handed the charge of Nowgong
district to Rev. W.R. Hutton. The same year Rev. Hutton visited
Tika and conducted a Bible class at Golaghat. With the departure
of Rev. P.E. Moore, the responsibility of looking after the Tika field
was given to Rev. W.R. Hutton and by 1924 he was given the charge
of the whole Karbi field. After taking the new assignment, Rev.
W.R. Hutton went to America for a furlough and during his stay
he learnt Greek for the purpose of bringing out the New Testament
of the Bible in Karbi. In 1925 he came back to Assam and settled at
Furkating. During this time he started learning the Karbi language
from Rev. Mongve Ronghang, the first ordained reverend from the
tribe. In 1940, Rev. W.R. Hutton again went for a furlough. As the
Second World War was still on, he returned to Assam leaving his
wife in America. In the year 1954, he took complete retirement
and returned to America.

Arrival of New Missionaries

After the departure of Rev. W.R. Hutton, Rev M.J. Chance took
over the responsibility of looking after the Karbi field but he could
not continue for long as he died after only a few years. The Council
of Baptist Churches in North East India (CBCNEI) appointed Rev.
K. Savino, a Naga, in 1957. After the demise of Rev. M.J. Chance,
Rev. Savino came to Diphu and made an attempt to establish the
mission centre. But due to various difficulties he did not succeed
in his attempt. Since the departure of Rev. K. Savino, the baptist
in the district of the then Mikir Hills, became independent in
administration. At present, the Karbi Anglong Baptist Convention
looks after the entire Baptist population of the district with its
headquarters at Diphu. At present, there are 11 associations having
272 local churches and a membership over 18,000 under the Karbi
Anglong Baptist Convention.
 Christian Missionaries among the Karbis 179

Other Denominations among the Karbis:

The Welsh Presbyterians
The Presbyterian Church of Wales was formerly known as the
Welsh Calvinistic Methodist and the Mission Board was known
as The Welsh Calvinistic Methodist Foreign Missionary Society. It
was founded in 1840 with its headquarters in Liverpool. The first
Welsh missionary to India was Rev. Thomas Jones, who arrived
at Cherrapunji in Meghalaya with his wife on 22 June 1841. After
18 months, Rev. and Mrs Williams and Dr Owen Richard joined
the Jones on 22 January 1843.23 The Presbyterian missionaries
worked in the Karbi area from their stations at Jowai, Shangpung
and Wahijer of Meghalaya. The first Presbyterian convert from the
tribe was Sangbar Kro, who was baptised in 1880. He became a
schoolteacher at Sangbar, a village near Umrongso (Garampani)
in N.C. Hills district. Later on, he shifted from Sangbar and came
to Umpanai in West Karbi Anglong and spent the rest of his life
there.24
Mr Daniel Sykes opened a school at Pynthor Mynsong, a place
on the other side of the Klopi River in North Cachar. In about eight
months the school was given up. Sangbar, who joined the school,
had learnt to read the first part of the first Khasi book when the
school was given up, but he continued to study by himself. Soon
after Mr Jerman Jones had come out and taken the charge of Jowai
district, Sangbar came to Jowai and became a stipend holder,
remaining in the school at Jowai for five years. While in school,
Sangbar became a Christian. At the effort of Jerman Jones, two or
three girls from Pynthor Mynrong came to study at Jowai. One of
them was Ka Ior (Kajor Timungpi) who afterwards became Sang­
bar’s wife. Later they both went back to their village and became
teachers.
One day when Kajor, Sangbar’s wife, was cutting firewood, a
tiger came by, seized her by the shoulders, and carried her some
distance to the forest. The villagers and their dogs followed the
tiger and the tiger let go his hold of Kajor. These circumstances was
fatal to the school as the villagers took it to be a sign of the wrath
of the demons against the school and the Christian religion. As
180 Donald Teron

parents would not send their children to school it had to be given

up. It was arranged that Sangbar should be sent to Nongsawlia for
further training. After remaining there for two years and a half, he
became a teacher in Dr Griffith’s district in Mawphlang and after­
wards under Mr Robert Evans in Shangpoong. After sometime he
returned to his own people who had removed from Pynthor Myn­
rong to Madan Ritong and then he, along with his family members,
came to Umpanai in West Karbi Anglong. Sangbar’s father, Sar Kro
was the basiko, chief of judges of the village. Sar Kro was a noble
old man. Though inclined favourably to Christianity, he did not
have sufficient courage to profess it publicly.
When Sangbar returned to his people again, the people were
not desirous of having a school. But in about a year, a few were
induced to favour it. From that time, until the present, the work
has continued to make progress from year to year, and its influ­
ence is felt in the surrounding villages. Through the kindness of
Miss Hannah Jones of Rhyl, Sangbar was able to begin schools in
Ningkring and Langweh where there are seven Christians in one
of these villages and 22 in the other. Thirty children altogether
were placed under instruction of whom 15 were able to read the
Khasi Testament.25
Sangbar Kro, along with his family members, left their native
village, Pynthor Mynrong, for Umpanai in 1892, due to some rea­
sons. First, the British commissioner stationed at Haflong issued a
strict order to contribute free labour for the construction of rail­
way line to connect the Brahmaputra Valley with the Barak Valley.
In order to avoid this, Sangbar and his followers left the area. Sec­
ond, the Jaintia daloi (minister) under whom the Karbis of N.C.
Hills were living was very oppressive. Therefore Sangbar and his
brother-in-law left for Umapanai. Last, the school established and
taught by Sangbar and his wife at Pynthor Mynrong was boycotted
and abandoned and they were looking for an alternative place.
After a long and weary journey traversing through Madan
Ritong, Horkanghong, Mukiaw of present Meghalaya, Sangbar
reached Tapat and Am-ih by crossing the Kapili and Amtereng
rivers with a raft and finally reached Umpanai where he spent the
rest of his life.
 Christian Missionaries among the Karbis 181

Sangbar Kro was fluent in English. At Umpanai, he was once

again engaged in his old profession as a teacher and medicine
distributor of the Welsh Presbyterian Mission. In 1893, the Welsh
Presbyterian missionaries, Rev. John Jones, Mr Jenkins and Dr
Williams, paid a visit to Umpanai travelling through the Jaintia
Hills in the midst of dense forest and unfamiliar geographical con­
ditions. At Umpanai, they were welcomed by Sangbar Kro and his
group. The schoolchildren presented a song in Karbi. By the tune,
the missionaries could understand that the song was, ‘We have
heard the joyful sound; Jesus saves, Jesus saves.’
Even to this day the older folks of the Biate tribe inhabiting
North Cachar Hills have kept their memories alive by fondly call­
ing Sangbar Kro ‘Pu Sangbar’ because he was not only one of the
missionaries who brought the gospel among the Biates but was
also a teacher in their area at what is now called Sangbar situated
near Umrongso (Garampani) in N.C. Hills.26

The Roman Catholic Missionaries among the Karbis

The Salvatorian Fathers adopted Khasi Hills as their main field of
missionary activity. They reached the boundary of Karbi Anglong
but not really entered it. A certain Langtuk Hanse from the village
of Marjong just a few kilometres from the present parish centre of
Umswai was the first to hear of the Gospel message. On 25 January
1914, he led a group of six people from Marjong to Umtyrkhang in
the Khasi Hills and received baptism at the hands of Fr. Christopher
Becker. These six became the bearers of the ‘good news’ to others
in the village. In May 1916, 31 others received baptism from the
hands of the catechist, Stephan Manik. On 15 May, another 22
received baptism from Fr Grignat, S.J. In 1920 some of those who
received the faith went to settle at Umpanai and thus a Christian
community was started there, too. Later on, a church was started
at Mynser. The work in this region was not restricted only to the
Karbis as the Tiwas (Hill Lalungs), too, responded to the faith.
In 1950, the people of Bor Marjong and Umswai received the
faith and they became agents of evangelization. The first one to
receive baptism from Jirikinding area was a certain Joseph Millik
182 Donald Teron

and his four children. They went to the Raliang mission and were
baptised by Fr Mellina, SDB on 6 March 1942. From Umkhyrmi,
the Catholic faith spread to the Karbis of Mawthade, Langsomepi,
Amreng and later on to Tapat, Langkeroi and Rongpangbong.
In Karbi Anglong, not everyone who became a Catholic came
from their original animistic faith. Some of the Protestants, too,
became Catholics. Thus in 1949, a certain John Kathar, with a
group of 27 others, was received into the Catholic Church by then
Fr O. Marengo, SDB. In the same year in the month of November
18; on February 14, 1950, and in May of the same year, ten others
joined the Catholic Church. Thus the Church gained quite a strong
foothold in the area of Rongkhang, which for the Karbis is one of
the main centres.27

Notes
1. J.F. Jyrwa, Reports of the Foreign Mission of the Presbyterian Church
of Wales on Khasi-Jaintia Hills, 1899 (1864-1897), Christian
Communication Department, K.J.P. Synod, Shillong, 1998, p. 527.
2. Hillary Terang and Anderson Tokbi, Daybreak in the Hills, Karbi
Anglong Baptist Convention, Rukasen, Diphu, 2009, p. 8.
3. Ibid.
4. Ibid., pp. 8-9.
5. Ibid., p. 9.
6. Milton Sangma, History of the American Baptist Mission in North
East India, vol. 1, Mittal Publications, Delhi, 1987, p. 90.
7. The material was supplied by Rev. Tom Horn, USA, for the
Sesquicentennial Celebration of the Gospel in Karbi Anglong, 1859­
2009.
8. F.S. Downs, Christianity in North-East India, ISPCK, Delhi, 1983,
p. 58.
9. Davidson Ingti, Christianity Among the Karbis and its Impacts,
Published by the author, Diphu, 1998, p. 14.
10. P.H. Moore, The American Baptist Missionary Union Report,
Nowgong, 18-29 December 1886, p. 33.
11. Downs, op. cit., p. 58.
12. Moore, op. cit., p. 36.
13. Downs, op. cit., p. 58.
 Christian Missionaries among the Karbis 183

14. Sangma, op. cit., p. 58.

15. Moore, History of Nowgong Field Report, Assam Mission Jubilee of
the American Baptist Missionary Union, p. 37.
16. Sangma, op. cit., p. 92.
17. Information vide Rev. Tom Horn, USA, for the Sesquicentennial
Celebration of the Gospel in Karbi Anglong, 1859-2009.
18. Peter Tisso, Pastor Ari (Pastor’s Handbook), Christian Literature
Centre, Guwahati (2nd Edition), 1967, p. 8.
19. Information vide Rev. Tom Horn, ibid.
20. Interview with Sri Chandra Timung on 21 January 2007, at Tika
Hills.
21. Kave Ronghangpi of Borthoipi Baptist Church used to tell the story.
22. Tisso, op. cit., p. 10.
23. J.F. Jyrwa, op. cit., pp. 527-8.
24. Ingti, op. cit., pp. 1-17.
25. Jyrwa, op. cit., pp. 7-8.
26. Daniel Teron, ‘A Glimpse of the Early Christian Missionaries with
Short Reference to the Early Convert’, Arleng Daily, 29 April 2010,
Diphu, Assam.
27. S. Karotemprel, The Catholic Church in North East India (1890-
1990), Vendrame Institute, Shillong, 1993, pp. 6-7.
 CHAPTER 8

Nationalist Discourse, Christianity

and Tribal Religion
The Tani Tribes of Arunachal Pradesh

JAGDISH LAL DAWAR

Introduction
The Tani group of tribes is a confederation of tribes constituting
the Nishis, Tagins, Hill—Miris, Na, Apatanis, Adis, Gallos and
Mishings [also in Assam]. All of these tribes claim to be the direct
descendants of their legendary human father, Abo Tani. They
inhabit the central areas of Arunachal Pradesh and constitute the
majority of population in the region. These tribes have been coming
under the influence of alien religions, specifically Christianity. The
history of Christianity in the areas of present Arunachal Pradesh
can be traced back to nineteenth century when the American
Baptist Missionaries opened Sadiya as a mission station in 1836.1
But it is only in the last decade of the nineteenth century that
the local tribes started accepting the Christian faith.2 However,
missionaries were not successful in converting a large number
of people till the 1950s.3 This paper makes an humble attempt to
study how conversion to Christianity became a site of contestation
on the part of officials of the Indian state, Hindu missionaries, the
indigenous intellectuals and, in turn, the Christian missionaries,
thereby leading to the rampant politics of religious identity.

Official Discourse and the Politics of Protectionism

The official attitude to conversion was marked by hostility. It can
be comprehended in the light of the discourse provided by the
186 Jagdish Lal Dawar

policy-makers during 1950s. This discourse emerged in the

process of grappling with the question of ‘integration’ of Arunachal
Pradesh with the Indian ‘mainstream’. The tenor of this official
discourse may be summed up in Verrier Elwin’s words:
Our policy is to develop the tribes along the lines of their own tradition
and genius. The whole stress of NEFA policy is on change. We are all
aware that very great changes, which we hope will be enriching rather
than impoverishing, will come, but we would like to see these come, not
as imposed break with the past, but a natural evolution from it . . . there
shall be no forcible imposition of another culture and . . . the old culture
should be helped to grow and develop into the new.4
The most effective method of ‘integration’ was by means of
exercising cultural hegemony by ‘appropriating’ tribal cultural
practices.5 The critique of Christian missionaries formed an
important aspect of this discourse since the former were perceived
to be antithetical to tribal cultural practices.6
Some of the members of the Lok Sabha were apprehensive of
the proselytizing activities of the Christian missionaries in NEFA
and they had been raising this question in the various sessions
from time to time. In fact, some of the members related it to anti-
national activities, but it had always been denied by the respective
ministers.7

Protection of Tribal Religion

The officials of the Indian state were in favour of providing
protection to the tribal religious beliefs and practices. Thus an
official report from 1956-7 states: ‘The people’s religious beliefs
are to be respected and sympathetically understood and on no
account, are any efforts to be made to draw them into the rituals
and faith of another religion.’8
It was being presumed that the tribal religion ‘may survive as
it is, provided the official attitude becomes one of respect for it and
provided also the senior officers show a kind of official patron­
age to the tribal religious functions’.9 However, it was also felt that
the existing religion would not be able to ‘meet the spiritual needs
 Nationalist Discourse, Christianity and Tribal Religion 187

of changing situation’.10 Therefore, the officials were in favour of

developing the tribal religion by providing state protection.11

Indigenous Voices
The indigenous leaders ‘appropriated’ the official discourse and
perceived the missionaries’ activities as a threat to the survival
of their traditional culture.12 They responded in a dual way: (a)
violence to the converts’ property during the 1970s13 and (b) pres­
sure on the government to protect their beliefs and practices from
the onslaught of the organized religions specifically Christianity.
Therefore, the Arunachal Pradesh legislative assembly passed ‘The
Arunachal Pradesh Freedom of Indigenous Faith Bill, 1978’ (Bill
no. 4 of 1978) to ‘provide prohibition of conversion from indig­
enous faith of Arunachal Pradesh to any other faith or religion by
use of force or inducement or by fraudulent means and for such
matters connected therewith’.14 While introducing the bill, P.K.
Thungon, the then chief minister, outlined the objectives and rea­
sons for its introduction.15 The bill got its assent from the President
of India in 1979. It was promulgated as the Indigenous Faith (Pro­
tection) Act 1979.16

Christian Voices
The Christian leaders perceived this bill to be ‘unconstitutional
and anti-Christian’ and aimed at ‘legalising the persecution of
Christians’.17 It was perceived to be against the spirit of secularism
and democracy.18
In spite of the hostility towards Christian missionaries’ activi­
ties and the existence of the protection of indigenous Faith Bill the
Christianization of the indigenous people of Arunachal Pradesh
had been taking place very rapidly in a large number of areas of
the state. The missionaries had been refuting the allegation that
they were opposed to the local culture.19 There had been emphasis
on ‘now-on-wards’ integration of ‘Christian ethos’ with the ‘local
customs’.20
188 Jagdish Lal Dawar

Hinduism and Appropriation of Tribal Religion

Some powerful Hindu organizations, too, had been trying to
‘appropriate’ tribal cultural practices and thus exercise Hindu
hegemony in the region. For example, the Ramakrishna Mission
was encouraged by the officials of the Indian state to open a hospital
in Itanagar and school in the Along area,21 the district headquarters
of the then Siang frontier division. Though the mission’s activities
were related to social service, health and education and the
conversion of the tribes did not figure in its agenda, yet in the
Ramakrishna Mission school at Along, the ‘appropriation’ of
tribal cultural practices has been attempted in subtle ways. A close
observation of the lifestyle and everyday activities of the students
and teachers of the school reveals to us how nationalist and Hindu
hegemony has been exercised among tribal children.22 However,
this hegemony seems to be multi-vocal in its nature, that is, it
has tried to inculcate the values of Indian patriotism, Arunachal
patriotism, multi-culturalism and liberal Hinduism.

Right Wing Hindu Organizations/Hindutva

The right-wing Hindu organizations have been actively operating
in the tribal areas of north-east India, specifically Arunachal
Pradesh. Their activities became particularly intense in Arunachal
Pradesh during the 1990s. It is significant that it is during this time
that globalization and Hindutva forces were becoming dominant
in the rest of India. It was also the period when a number of cultural
and literary societies were being established by the educated
leaders of different tribes of Arunachal Pradesh which aimed at
protecting their cultural heritage. Hindutva has been operating
through ‘Arun Jyoti’ and ‘Arunachal Vikas Parishad’ (Kalyan
Ashram) among others. Kalyan Ashram was ‘founded in 1952 at
Jashpurnagar of Chhattisgarh but it came to the Northeast only in
1978’.23 Outlining its role in the north-east Dharmaraj writes:
The only message that it has delivered to the people of Northeast is that
the ‘traditional faith and culture’ of different janajatis is precious preserve
it and protect it to re-establish peace and tranquillity among the different
 Nationalist Discourse, Christianity and Tribal Religion 189

ethnic groups and the Northeast region as a whole. If the traditional faith
and culture (sanatan dharma-sanskriti) is protected the society could be
protected which is essential for national security and integration. Because,
Bharat is known to the world for its sanatan dharma-sanskriti for which it
survived long, since the inception of this creation as a whole.24

The writer equates Sanatan Dharma with the traditional faith

and culture of the tribes. This organization was virulently opposed
to the activities of the Christian churches. As Dharmaraj points
out: ‘Kalyan Ashram is going to “undo” the blunders committed
by the church. The church has divided the society on ethnic lines
and Kalyan Ashram is trying to bring them together on a common
platform’.25
The Hindutva forces had been trying to appropriate the
tribal religion and in the process trying to ‘Hinduize’ their gods
and incorporate them into the Hindu pantheon. The mainstream
interest surrounding ‘Donyi-Poloism’ is one of the best examples
of an attempt at this kind of ‘appropriation’.
Thus, the biographical sketch of the founder of Donyi-Poloism
movement, Talom Rukbo, along with biographical sketches of all
the tribal leaders of India, who strived to maintain their tribal reli­
gion, prominently figures in the booklet published in Hindi by the
Akhil Bhartiya Vanvasi Kalyan Ashram.26

Tribal Cultural and Religious Movements

The influence of alien religions created an acute identity crisis
in the society. However, the social base for this had already been
created by various changes resulting from:
(a) institutional changes in agriculture;
(b) various changes in traditional occupations;
(c) the expanding urbanization;
(d) migration, internal as well as from outside the state;27
(e) gradual abandonment of the so-called Nehru-Elwin policy;
(f) super-imposition of ‘mainstream’ political structure over her
traditional autonomous socio-political institutions, thereby
bringing about series of changes in tribal polity.28
190 Jagdish Lal Dawar

These developments threatened the traditional way of living,

especially of the educated class and, therefore, created an identity
crisis in the society. However, it was the intellectuals29 who were
able to articulate this identity crisis and give it a coherent form.
The movement for cultural and religious identity may be
traced back to 28 August 1968, when some intellectuals belonging
to the Adi tribe held a meeting at Along, the district headquarters,
to consider the means for forming a ‘larger socio-religious asso­
ciation for forging a larger identity’.30 It was decided to construct
a Donyi-Polo-Mopin-Solung Dere (Donyi-Polo, or sun and the
moon, being the deity and divine figures of the Adis; Solung and
Mopin being the most important festivals of Minyong and Galos,
respectively; and Dere being the community hall) which would
provide a common meeting place for all communities residing in
the area on the occasion of important ‘social, cultural and religious
celebrations such as Mopin and Solung’ and ‘veneration for the
universal deity Donyi-Polo’.31 The ‘germination’ of the idea which
‘aimed at unification of the Adi faith in the supreme “Donyi-Polo”
was welcomed by all.’32 The next step taken by the intellectuals was
the formation of cultural and literary societies.33 These formed an
agenda for cultural defence against the onslaught of alien religions.
The Adi Cultural and Literary Society was formally inaugurated
at Along, the district headquarters of Siang, with a two-day pro­
gramme on 14 and 15 November 1971.34 Simultaneously, an Adi
Cultural and Literary Society was formed at Pasighat.35 The most
important aims and objectives of these societies have been the
preservation of traditional cultural heritage.36 The intellectuals
were aware of the fact that their folklores, myths, rituals, songs,
dances, etc., were not only important for sustaining their identity
but also a great source of their cultural history.37 Therefore, they
felt it of the utmost importance to record their oral traditions.
The intellectuals felt the need to develop an Adi (common for
all the sub-tribes) language and literature, and a suitable script for
it. It led to the formation of Adi Agom Kebang (Adi Sahitya Sabha)
on 12 November 1981. Talom Rukbo, a leading literary personality
and vanguard of the cultural movement among the Adi groups,
was one of the prominent founding members of this organization.
 Nationalist Discourse, Christianity and Tribal Religion 191

Literature for him had been an important weapon for forging cul­
tural identity among the Adis. The leitmotif of his poems and other
writings had been the cultural rootedness and cultural defence
which is an important expression of cultural identity.38
One of the important aspects of the movement for cultural
identity has been a search for forging a religious identity based
on indigenous traditions. It had been a recurring theme in the
writings of the Adi intellectuals. They have constructed the belief
systems, religious ethics and philosophy of this religion based on
tribal traditions. It has been given the denomination, ‘Donyi-Polo­
ism’.39 This nomenclature has been derived from the recognition
of Donyi-Polo, the combined divine figure of Donyi (the sun) and
Polo (the moon), as Adis’ popular gods.40
Some of the intellectuals led by Talom Rukbo have further
given more concrete form to Adi religion by establishing Donyi
Polo Yelan Kebang (a society of Donyi-Polo faith) in 1991. They
have started a ‘service of prayer on the evening of every Saturday
and mass gathering on every second Saturday for day service’.41 On
31 December 1992, the foundation of Donyi-Polo Altar building
was laid along with the raising of Donyi-Polo symbol.42 Since then,
31 December is being celebrated as Donyi-Polo every year. Nowa­
days on every Saturday morning, mass gathering takes place in
Donyi-Polo gangin (temple) and mass prayer is performed accom­
panied by select rituals.
However, this form of religious identity is being contested
by many intellectuals among the various sub-tribes of the Adis.43
Some of them argue that it is an ‘invention’ and not ‘an original
religion’. Nevertheless, the leaders of this form of religious identity
refute all the allegations including the alleged ‘imitation’ of Hindu­
ism.44 They do not rule out the ‘influence’ of outside religions but it
does not ‘indicate imitation’. One may ‘borrow’ certain ideas from
outside but ‘that does not amount to imitation’. All the rituals and
‘innovations’ are ‘derived from our own indigenous traditions’.45
Though the Adi group of tribes was the first to start the move­
ment for religious identity, gradually, it spread among other tribes
of the Tanis. Thus, among the Nyishi, who are numerically the
largest group, the movement for forging religious identity, based
192 Jagdish Lal Dawar

on indigenous traditions, began from the early part of the 1990s.

First, it expressed itself at the cultural level with the formation of
the Nyishi Culture Society. However, the leaders of this society
were not interested to take up religious questions since the aim
of the society was to preserve select aspects of Nyishi culture and,
moreover, it was a broad-based forum and was open to Christian
Nyishis as well. Therefore, some of the leaders established another
society, which was named as the Nyishi Indigenous Faith and
Culture Society (NIFCS). The aim of this society was to ‘preserve,
promote and propagate indigenous faith and culture’ and it was
decided to promote the slogan, ‘loss of faith is loss of culture,
loss of culture is loss of identity’.46 However, for the purpose of
forging religious identity, a religious body, Nyder Namlo (literal
meaning, spiritual house) was established on 27 January 2001, at
Doimukh under the aegis of Nyishi Indigenous Faith and Culture
Society. A booklet containing prayers had been published in order
‘to develop socio-religious, moral and spiritual value’ among the
Nyishis.47 The Nyder Namlo organizes regular prayer meetings at
a fixed spot. Branches have now been established in different parts
of the region inhabited by Nyishis.
Donyi-Poloism, as a movement, has similarly been spreading
among other groups of Tanis—the Tagin, Apatani and Hill Miris.
Thus had a movement for cultural and religious identity
among the Tanis of Arunachal Pradesh evolved out of the dialogue
with the official state, Christian missionary and Hindu mission­
ary discourses. The tribal intellectuals, in the process of creatively
engaging themselves in the dialogue with these discourses, evolved
a counter-hegemonic agenda and carved out their own space for
forging a process of identity formation.

Notes
1. N.P. Mason, These Seventy-Five Years, 1911, cited in M.S. Sangma,
‘Attempts to Christianize the People of Arunachal Pradesh by the
American Baptist Missionaries (1836-1950)’, Proceedings of North-
East Indian History Association, Pasighat, 1986 (Seventh Session),
p. 263.
 Nationalist Discourse, Christianity and Tribal Religion 193

2. M.A.Z. Rolston, ‘Persecution of Christians in Arunachal Pradesh’,

National Council of Christian Review, vol. XCIX, no. 1, January 1979,
p. 73.
3. Sangma, op. cit., p. 263.
4. Elwin papers, file no. ATA/G/55, Secret, serialized as file no. 96,
p. 2, the manuscript section of the Nehru Memorial Centre for
Contemporary Studies, Teen Murti Bhawan, New Delhi; also see
Nehru’s note on his tour of the Northeast Frontier areas in October
1952, p. 5.
5. Jagdish Lal Dawar, ‘Movement for Cultural Identity since 1950
among the Mishmis of Arunachal Pradesh’, Proceedings of North-
East India History Association, Silchar, 1995, p. 323.
6. This generalization is based on the following writings that fairly well
represent the official position on the role of Christian missionaries in
the tribal areas.
(a) Verrier Elwin’s views in Nari K. Rustomji, Verrier Elwin and
India’s North-Eastern Borderlands, North-Eastern Hill University
Publications, Shillong, 1988, pp. 58-9.
(b) Smali, G.A., a retired ICS, had expressed similar views as early
as 1946: See Smali’s letter to the Chairman, British Parliamentary;
Delegation, c/o Secretary, Information and Broadcasting, New
Delhi, 11 January 1946, in G.N. Bordoloi Papers, Nehru Memorial
Centre for Contemporary Studies, Manuscript Section, p. 7.
(c) Elwin’s views are also narrated in Ramachandra Guha’s Savaging
the Civilized, Verrier Elwin, His Tribals, And India, Oxford University
Press (first published in 1999), 2001, pp. 165, 242.
(d) Also see Elwin to T.N. Kaul, ICS, Joint Secretary to the
Government of India, Ministry of External Affairs, New Delhi,
12 February 1953, File no. ATA/C/6, listed as File no. 8/88 in Elwin
Papers.
(e) File no. ATA/T/2. Listed as File no. 133, pp. 71-2 in Elwin Papers.
(f) Nehru to B. Das, 19 May 1951, in S. Gopal (General ed.), Selected
Works of Jawaharlal Nehru, Jawaharlal Nehru Memorial Fund, New
Delhi, 1994, vol. 16, part 1, 1994, p. 283.
(g) Nehru to B.R. Medhi, August 1952, in S. Gopal, ibid., p. 199.
(Footnote No. 5).
(h) S. Gopal, Jawaharlal Nehru: A Biography, vol. 2, 1947-56, Oxford
University Press, Delhi, 1983, p. 209.
(i) Nehru, ‘A Note on a Tour of the Northeastern Frontier Areas’,
194 Jagdish Lal Dawar

19 October 1952 to 25 October 1952. This note was found in Elwin

Papers.
(j) Nehru to Amrit Kaur, 30 October 1953, cited in S. Gopal, vol. 2,
op. cit., p. 209.
7. See Lok Sabha Debates, Third Series, vol. XLI, 2-19 April 1965,
p. 8906, col. 843; Lok Sabha Debates, Fifth series, vol. 20, nos. 1-5,
13-17 November 1972, 15 November 1972, col. 528, p. 130, written
answers; Lok Sabha Debates, Fifth series, vol. 22, nos. 21-5, 1972,
col. 4,254, p. 14.
8. Elwin Papers, File no. 110, p. 8.
9. K.L. Mehta’s comments in a note dated 2 June 1955, on some of the
points arising on Dr Elwin’s note on a summary of experiences and
ideas gained during 1954-5, in Elwin Papers, file no. ATA/T/2 listed
as File no. 133, p. 32.
10. Ibid.
11. Elwin Papers, File no. 153, p. 43; in a confidential note, Verrier
Elwin stated that it was Shri Jairam Doulatram, the then governor of
Assam who had mooted the idea of developing the tribal religion.
12. The indigenous leaders submitted a long petition dated 22 April
1971 to the then prime minister of India wherein they stated that
they had been following their age-old traditions and that they follow
their own religion but the proselytising activities of the Christian
missionaries have disrupted the social and religious ecology of the
Adis.
This document was found in Talom Rukbo’s archive. Talom Rukbo
was a leading cultural activist and had been in the forefront of
cultural struggles against alien forces. He allowed me to consult his
huge archive.
13. It is based mainly on Christian sources. When I interviewed a
number of indigenous leaders about the violence on Christian
converts, they were silent on this issue and some of them denied
the violence while others replied that they don’t remember. Either
it was feigned ignorance or there were actual lapses of memory. It is
possible that they were playing politics with their memory.
14. The Arunachal Pradesh Code, vol. III, pp. 7-9. Government of
Arunachal Pradesh, Law and Judicial Department, Itanagar, 1982.
15. Cited in NCCR, vol. XCVIII, no. 8, August 1978, p. 399.
16. Ibid.
17. Reported in NCCR, vol. XCVIII, no. 9, September 1978, p. 462 (News
Column: ‘News From Many Quarters’, India).
 Nationalist Discourse, Christianity and Tribal Religion 195

18. See NCCR, vol. XCIX, no. 1, January 1979, pp. 51-73; NCCR, vol.
XCIX, April 1979, no. 4, pp. 179, 180, 182, 223; nos. 6-7, June-July,
1979, p. 361.
19. NCCR, vol. CIVI, no. 7, August 1984, p. 369.
20. Reported in NCCR, vol. C., no. 3, March 1980, p. 154.
21. Urapnam (Awakening) Sixth Issue, 1984-5, Ramakrishna Mission
School, Viveknagar, Along, West Siang District, Arunachal Pradesh.
22. See Urapnam, 1980-1, ibid., p. 4. Swami Hiranmayananda, General
Secretary, Ramakrishna Mission Headquarters, West Bengal, 25
February 1986, in Urapnam, 1985-6, p. v. Along, 27 March 1986,
ibid., p. viii, emphasis added; Urapnam, 1980-1, p. 11.
Message sent on the auspicious occasion of the post-centenary
golden jubilee birth anniversary of Sri Ramakrishna observed at our
institution on 13 January 1987, in Urapnam, 1986-7, op. cit., p. vii.
23. Dharmaraj, A Rousing Call from the Northeast, Heritage Foundation,
Guwahati, 2004, p. 40.
24. Ibid.
25. Ibid., p. 41.
26. Akhil Bhartiya Vanvasi Kalyan Ashram, Swarna Jayanti Varsh, 2003
(Souvenir of Golden Jubilee Year, 2003, of the All India Vanvasi
Kalyan Ashram), p. 11.
27. For migration see A. Mitra, Internal Migration & Economic
Development in the Hills, Omsons Publisher, New Delhi, 1997,
pp. 50-73.
28. Atul Chandra Talukdar, Political Transition in the Grassroots in Tribal
India, Omsons Publishers, New Delhi, 1987, pp. 91-159.
29. I have derived the concept of ‘intellectuals’ from the following
writers: Antonio Gramsci, Selections From The Prison Note Books,
p. 9; Karl Marx, German Ideology, edition of 1965, London, p. 61;
Sabyasachi Bhattacharya, ‘Notes on the Role of the Intelligentsia
in Colonial India: India from Mid-Nineteenth Century, Studies in
History, vol. I, no. I, January-June, 1979, p. 98; K.N. Panikkar, ‘The
Intellectual History of Colonial India: Some Historiographical and
Conceptual Questions’ in Sabyasachi Bhattacharya and Romila
Thapar (eds), Situating Indian History, Oxford, New Delhi, 1986,
p. 412.
30. Donyi-Polo Mopin Solung Dere, Along. The history of this event was
inscribed on a board. Field Survey 1998, February 1998.
31. Ibid.
32. Ibid.
196 Jagdish Lal Dawar

33. These associations have been registered and are listed in General File
no. SR/ITA, Arunachal Pradesh Secretariat, Political Department.
34. Jayanta Kumar Sarkar, ‘Development of Identity Consciousness in
Arunachal Pradesh’ in K.S. Singh (ed), Tribal Movements in India,
vol. I, Manohar, Delhi, 1982-3, p. 234.
35. Listed in General File no. SR/ITA, op. cit.
36. Ibid.
37. Oshong Ering, Preservation and Revitalization of Cultural Heritage
of Arunachal Pradesh, Adi Cultural and Literary Society, Pasighat,
1976, p. 5; Talom Rukbo, Echo, 19 June 1987, p. 3; Tumpak Ete
(Comp.), Myibu Agom: The Sacred Lore of the Adi, vol. I, Singhania
Press, Shillong, p. 2.
38. Talom Rukbo’s poems ‘Kaabom Kaaboma’ and ‘Turmona Yelot’
bring out the representation of the theme of cultural rootedness very
effectively.
39. Donyi-Poloism: Its Faith and Practices, vol. 1, published by Adi
Cultural and Literary Society, Pasighat, September 1987.
40. Oshong Ering, ‘The Tanis and the Donyi-Polo Cult’, NEFA
Information, February 1970, pp. 22-5; Oshong Ering, ‘Adi Belief and
Faith’, Arunachal News, vol. 12, no. 5, August 1983, pp. 25-6; Lummer
Dai, ‘Donyi-Poloism: A Scientific Religion’, Arunachal News, vol. 6,
no. 4, 1977, pp. 56-8; Talom Rukbo, ‘Donyi-Poloism: A Religion’,
Arunachal Review, July-December, 1985, pp. 1-4.
41. Donyi-Poloism: Its Faith and Practices, vol. 1, published by Adi
Cultural and Literary Society, Pasighat, September 1987.
42. Talom Rukbo to the chairman, Donyi-Polo Mission, Itanagar,
8 December 1982, file no. ACLS-7/85-86 (Archives of Adi Cultural
and Literary Society, Pasighat).
43. Interview with Oshong EringI, Pasighat, 15 February 1998; interview
with Tumpak Ete, Along, 23 February 1988.
44. Interview with Talom Rukbo, Pasighat, 15 February 1998; interview
with Kaling Borang, Pasighat, 21 February 1998.
45. Interview with Talom Rukbo, Pasighat, 15 February 1998; interview
with Kaling Borang, Pasighat, 21 February 1998.
46. Nyishi Indigenous Faith and Culture Society, Bye-Law, Nahaarlagun,
1999, p. 16.
47. Aan Donyi Khumlaju, published by Nyedar Namlo Committee,
Doimukh, 2001, p. 1.
 CHAPTER 9

Straying beyond Conquest and Emancipation

Exploring the Fault Lines of Missionary Education in
North-East India

HOINEILHING SITLHOU

Introduction
The coming of Christianity in the north-east of India can be
earmarked by the Treaty of Yandaboo concluded at the end of the
first Anglo-Burman war between the East India Company and
the kingdom of Burma on 24 February 1826 (Downs 1992: 6).
Politically, in accordance with contemporary usages, north-east
India comprises the eight states of Arunachal Pradesh, Assam,
Manipur, Meghalaya, Mizoram, Nagaland, Sikkim and Tripura.
The subcontinent is bordered in the south and south-west by
Bangladesh, in the east and south-east by Myanmar, and in the
north by China, Tibet and Bhutan (Pachuau 1998).
It emerged during the nineteenth century and the first half of
the twentieth century directly out of the colonial project of ruling
India. In the nineteenth century, the Baptists of Serampore showed
missionary interest in the north-east of India. The American Bap­
tist and Welsh Presbyterians, who picked up where the Serampore
mission left off at Cherrapunji, were the major Christians missions
in the region throughout the nineteenth century (Downs 1994:
65). The establishment of schools was one of the principle means
adopted by these missionaries for the introduction of Christianity.
In addition to preaching and translation, Protestant missionaries
often celebrated the Bible as the ultimate source of authority, thus
making it a condition that if an individual had to worship God in
the manner, the person must be able to read. This is how education
198 Hoineilhing Sitlhou

and evangelism were interlinked and the former constituted the

basis for ‘praeparatio evangelica’ (Visvanathan 1993).
In the north-eastern context, the schools, particularly the cen­
tral station schools, where the members of different villages and
tribes studied together, made an important contribution to the
development of the new tribal polity and identity. In this, Chris­
tian missionaries played a central role because amongst many hill
tribes of the north-east India, the British government turned over
to the missions almost complete responsibility for education, thus
providing them with an instrument of influence far beyond any
that they would have in ordinary circumstances, especially in the
early days when their numbers were small. Under the government
patronage, the mission established a network of schools through­
out each tribal area. In fact, a school was established before a
church in most villages. While there were some government
schools at major centres, throughout the tribal areas of the present
Meghalaya, Nagaland, Manipur, and Mizoram, the responsibility
for educational work was entrusted by the government to the mis­
sions for many years.

Parallels between Education and Evangelism

When the missionaries, notably the American Baptist Mission,
began their work in the Brahmaputra Valley, now in Assam, they
began with open preaching in the bazaars, streets and in the
villages to the teeming millions of people. But when this method
failed to bear any fruit, they switched on to other methods, such
as, opening of schools, publication of literature in local languages,
translation and publications of religious tenets and the Bible, and
the openings of dispensaries and hospitals and other humanitarian
works. They adopted these methods as an additional method of
evangelization (Sangma 1987: vii).
When Alexander Lish of the Baptist Mission, the first mission­
ary to serve in Cherrapunji of the present Meghalaya, had come,
he immediately opened a school. The first missionary work in the
Assam plains consisted of the school started by the Serampore
Mission at Guwahati (Downs 1992: 196). The Welsh missionaries
 Straying beyond Conquest and Emancipation 199

similarly became involved in schoolwork in Cherrapunji and

neighbouring villages as soon as they could. In fact, every time
a new station was opened, the first thing done after preliminary
study of the language was to establish a school (Downs 1992).
Thomas Jones, the pioneer Welsh Presbyterian missionary, gave
this explanation of his decision to start schools in several villages
near Cherrapunji in 1842—and his letter is described as impor­
tant by Morris, the official historian of his mission, because it ‘laid
down the principles upon which the work on the hills has been
carried on from the beginning’.
The only plan which appears to me likely to answer a good purpose is to
establish schools in the various villages, to teach the Khasis—children
and adults—to read their own language; and to instruct them in the prin­
ciples of the Christian religion; or in other words, to give them the same
kind of instruction as is given in our Sunday School at home, and not to
introduce any other feature, except what may be necessary to draw the
children to the schools, or to train native teachers; and to make use of the
natives to teach their fellow-countrymen to read.… In this way we shall
not only bring up the young people in the knowledge of gospel doctrines,
but we shall also teach them to read; and when we shall have translated
and printed the Holy Scriptures into their language, we shall have some,
at least, in every family, able to read them, and I may add, able to under­
stand them also; and I would regard this an important step towards their
evangelisation. (Morris 1996: 90)

One finds similar arguments on behalf of educational work in

the writings of nineteenth-century American Baptist missionaries.
Thus, for instance, in the important report of the Jubilee Confer­
ence of 1886, a pioneer missionary among the Garos, E.G. Phillips
noted:
In aim and plan, the great thing ever before the mission has been evange­
lisation. The Garos are ruined by sin. The gospel alone can restore them.
But the gospel must be communicated. Almost of necessity, the written
page needs follow the preached word. Such has been God’s plan in all his­
tory. Hence the absolute necessity of education among savages, as a chief
handmaid to religion. Little call would there be, by a people who cannot
read, for scriptures and Christian literature, the foundation through their
revealed Christ of Christian civilization. (Phillips 1886: 67)
200 Hoineilhing Sitlhou

Numerous rationalizations on the impact of education can be

found in the official reports, published books and private corre­
spondences of the nineteenth and even early twentieth centuries.
The reason there is so much of it was that there were a number
of people in the home board as well as in the mission field itself,
who questioned the legitimacy of educational work as a mission­
ary enterprise. These people felt that only itinerant preaching
(bazaar preaching) was acceptable and any other work constituted
a diversion from the main responsibilities of the missionaries. The
argument given by E.W. Clark of the Nagaland mission on the sub­
ject of ‘mission schools’ in the jubilee conference of the American
Baptists Missionary Union, held in Nowgong in 1886 was that:
I agree with the essayist in all important matters, but think there is an
error creeping into many missionaries’ minds, as to the power of educa­
tion to mould character, using education in the sense of ordinary secular
education. At home they are learning that education is practically worth­
less to mould character. Moses, instead of introducing Egyptian sciences,
etc., taught simply the law. Schools cannot do the work. Our need is of
the work of the Divine Spirit. (Burdette 1886: 181)

Thus, we find from our analysis that the proposal for the
employment of education as a method of evangelization was char­
acterized by a mixture of opposite feelings or attitudes even within
the missionary community. There were some missionaries like
Clark, and mission sponsors like the Arthington Aborigines Mis­
sion (Dena 1988) who objected to all expenditure of missionary
resources upon schoolwork. Still there were others who consid­
ered intellectual enlightenment and discipline the sole requisite
for the conversion of the local people. They believed that some­
thing more than what commonly goes for knowledge was needed
to bring about repentance, and that the almost total lack of such
knowledge was not incompatible with genuine conversion.

I
Missionary Education as an Arm of Colonial Conquest
Education in India under the British government, remarked
Howell, ‘was first ignored, then violently and successfully
 Straying beyond Conquest and Emancipation 201

opposed, then conducted on a system, now universally admitted

to be erroneous’ (Sen Gupta 1971). The interest of colonial officials
in such missions’ educational programmes was not necessarily
religious. They understood that the education imparted by the
missionaries was effective not only in ‘civilizing’ the natives, but
also in making them ‘peaceful and loyal subjects’ (Dena 1988: 90).
The colonial rulers could do nothing besides annexing the populace
and subjecting them to an unfamiliar system of administration.
The work of reforming them from within was handed over to
the missionaries. Where the government failed, the missionary
work often succeeded and their valuable work had materially
assisted in the pacification of the natives. In the arguments given
by E.G. Phillips in his reports on the Garo field, he highlighted
the acknowledgement of the work of the missionaries by the
government in the following way:
Government has not been slow to see, as the Chief Commissioner put it
in his Resolution on the Educational Report for Assam, of 1891-2, that
‘it is difficult to convince a Garo or a Khasia of the advantage of learning.
The only lever that has been found effective is that of religion’. In other
words, they consider that Christian education is the education needed
by the Garos. They were quick, too, to see that the Mission was a better
instrument to introduce education than the government. Hence, from
the first, they were desirous that the Mission have charge of the educa­
tional work, as far as they were in a position to conduct it effectually.
The Mission was of the same opinion with the Government, and hence
accepted the schoolwork with the grant-in-aid as rapidly as practicable.
It was accepted, from the first, on the condition, willingly conceded by
Government, that we were at liberty to give as much religious instruction
in the schools as we chose. (Phillips 1886: 67-8)

The missionary was ready to cooperate with the government

if he was convinced that its policies were of benefit to the subject
people and for his mission. In this circumstance, both mission
and colonial governments had to expand beyond their current
resources; missions needed funds, and administrators needed staff
and educational facilities (Beidelman 1982: 26). In the Manipur
field, Williiam Pettigrew, the American Baptist missionary, was
appointed by the state government as superintendent of the Census
of the Hill Tribes (1910-11). This was because the missionary was
202 Hoineilhing Sitlhou

the only man who knew the language of the hill tribes. The census
work definitely enabled the missionary and his native workers to
explore more areas hitherto unvisited. On the other hand, his close
association with the colonial establishment made him behave as a
prisoner under the colonial establishment (Minutes of the ABMC
10th Session, Gauhati: 81).
Throughout the missionary writings, we find that the word
‘heathen’ is used to refer to the hill-people of north-eastern region,
whereas, the word ‘savage’ or ‘barbarian’ is commonly used by the
colonial administrators. The report given by Rev. E.G. Phillips at
the Assam mission of the American Baptist Missionary Union
jubilee conference held in Nowgong, 18-19 December 1886,
includes that:
For generations the Garos had been regarded with dread by their neigh­
bours, and were an annoyance and perplexity to government, so much so,
that in 1867 the Chief Commissioner of the province pronounced them
“blood-thirsty savages” most desperate and incorrigible and expressed
what seemed to him a precarious hope that the work of our society
among them might meet with success (ABMU, Nowgong, 1886: 54).

The presence of the missionaries would have been a welcom­

ing sight for them in cases such as this. The government was most
willing to hand over the burden of civilizing their subjects to oth­
ers. The Christian missions were a means for lightening the task of
government through the work of education.
The most common dilemma is often whether to look at the
Christian missions as a part and parcel of the colonial structure
or seek to construe it within that system. Christian mission and
colonialism were two movements opposed to each other funda­
mentally. They were two distinct institutionalized entities drawing
their inspiration from opposite conceptual extremes (Dena 1988:
12). Even when the missionary had not served directly the colonial
power, he only too gladly accepted the protection and develop­
ment through the colonial power (ibid.: 4). However, the moment
the missionary movement threatened political stability, the gov­
ernment did not show any hesitancy to curb such movement.
Pettigrew’s original plan of preaching the gospel among the plains
 Straying beyond Conquest and Emancipation 203

of Manipur had been shattered by a notification of the political

agent on 11 December 1894:
Under instructions of the local government I have the honour to inform
you that owing to the Manipur state being administered on behalf of the
minor Raja, no missionary of any denomination intending to work in the
state territory can be admitted into Manipur without the precious sanc­
tion of the chief commissioner of Assam. (Notification no. 806, dated
Manipur December 11, 1894, addressed to Revd W. Pettigrew, mission­
ary, Manipur as documented in Singh, 1991)

According to Singh (1991: 61), since most of the Manipuris

hold to the tenets of the Hindu religion bordering in fact almost to
fanaticism, Mr A. Porteous, the acting political agent, could easily
conceive the trouble, which would arise because of the introduc­
tion of the new religion.
Similarly, in Mizoram discrepancy developed between the dis­
trict administration and the local missionaries in 1910-11 when
the then medical missionary, Dr Fraser, took strong opposition to
the bawi or the slave system, which had the blessings of the gov­
ernment. Dr Fraser started a movement against this system calling
it slavery and actually freed some people by paying compensation
to the chiefs. The government supported the system as it provided
some sort of security and it also lent a good support to the chief on
whom the British leaned heavily for the sake of peaceful admin­
istration. The superintendent served a notice on Dr Fraser not to
interfere with local customs. Dr Fraser, however, left the district
ending the confrontation (Roy 1982: 656). Thus, the missionary
could, at times, become a challenging and de-stabilizing force to
the dominant voice within the colonial establishment (Zou 2002).
The Report of the Lushai Hills (1903-04) records how the mis­
sion schools in Mizoram attracted the neighbouring villagers in
Manipur border. Rev. D.E. Jones and Rev. Edwin Rowlands wrote
that there were a number of young men who expressed their
desire of learning how to read and write. They would stay for some
months in the mission compound and were willing to do manual
work in return for their education and lodging. The missionaries,
sensing the need to expand the education system, requested the
204 Hoineilhing Sitlhou

political agent in Manipur for permission. The political agent was

reluctant to grant them permission and replied to their request in
the following manner: ‘I have no objection to Paites being taught
in the schools in Lushai land, but for many reasons I cannot sanc­
tion the opening of any mission school in the Manipur state (as
documented in Thanzauva, 1997: 19).’
The variability of the socio-political and economic relation­
ship, between colonists and missionary educators, from our
analysis, represents an image of inconsistency rather than of co­
coordinated conspiracy. In practice, the nature of the relationship
fluctuated from territory to territory: missionary groups differed
in the degree of the willingness to embrace government sponsor­
ship; and the governments varied in their enthusiasm to support
through funding the native educational initiatives of missionaries
(Phillips 1886).

II
Missionary Education as an Agent of Cultural Colonization
A colonial strategy works to consolidate power by inducing its
subjects to imitate the forms and values of the dominant culture.
This theory is relevant in understanding the relation of converts to
the missionary as exemplified in the comments made by Rev. A.K.
Gurney:
Our modes of life, habits and thoughts are different from those of the
native Christian. There is a great gulf between them and us. Our position
is much above them. We cannot avoid this. We cannot bring ourselves
down to them or lift them up to us. For the missionaries to live like a
native not only would be a great hardship, but it would ruin his health.
To the native it is no hardship as he has always lived so. The mission­
ary in education and knowledge is far above his native brother, and he
belongs to the conquering race, the English and Americans being all the
same to a native. All this cannot help having an influence upon the native
Christian. The missionary is so great in the eyes of his native brother, and
the latter feels so inferior in knowledge and wisdom that he does not feel
like taking the lead but instinctively waits for him. (Gurney, A.K. 1886:
118-19)
 Straying beyond Conquest and Emancipation 205

Though missionary work did not of necessity spring from the

same ideological font as colonial administration, it usually shared
with its colonial hosts a common ‘Westernized’ heritage, and one
that was removed from the experience of the local population.
Missionary education, even if it openly professed to be opposed to
colonial power, could not help enculturation by dint of its inherent
‘foreignness’. The establishment of a school in the Western mould,
staffed by teachers trained in Western pedagogies and implicitly
committed to the value system of an alien culture, could not
hope to leave intact the indigenous character of those destined to
receive its education. This was especially so since the gospel, the
text of instruction, was at the heart of the learning process. Indeed,
some critics have regretted the suppression of ‘indigenous expres­
sion’ brought about by this ‘harmful combination of the gospel and
western culture’ (MacKenzie 1993: 54).
Let us take the example of marriage. Sanctified, monogamous
marriage must be said to be the Christian ideal. Divorce is always
frowned upon and illegitimacy and sex outside marriage stridently
condemned. The missionaries tended to be horrified by what they
perceived as tribal permissiveness with regard to matters concern­
ing sex. Tribal traditions could accommodate pre-marital sex and
children born of unmarried mothers. Among the Khasi, court­
ship was the traditional mode of entering a matrimonial alliance,
and the free interaction of the sexes meant that pre-marital sex
and pregnancy were treated with a certain amount of tolerance.
Divorce was allowed and illegitimacy was unheard of because a
child would belong by birth to its mother’s house (Robinson 2003:
142).
Among the Ao Naga of the present Nagaland state, the boys’
dormitories were known as morung, and these were central to the
organization of social life. The morung provided labour teams for
village work, trained boys in hunting and other skills and con­
stituted a locus for the organization of many social and cultural
activities. Free interaction of girls and boys was permitted and
they often gathered in the evening, after a day’s work, for singing
and dancing. The missionaries forbade their converts from using
the dormitories, for in them they would have to interact with those
206 Hoineilhing Sitlhou

who had not converted, the ‘heathen’ (Furer-Haimendorf 1976 cf.

Robinson 2003). They further objected to the unhindered sexual
interaction between girls and boys that the system seemed to per­
mit. Among the Christians, families attempted to take over the
care and socialization that had been the responsibility of the elders
of the morung (Robinson 2003: 142-4).
Typically, the educative process provided by missionary
teachers challenged the fabric of indigenous society. The mission­
ary educator, by definition, sought a disharmonization of society
through the construction of an alternative societal structure. To the
Christian, this was indeed social amelioration, but it challenged,
sometimes irresistibly, the richness and the individuality and the
identity of the indigenous religio-cultural system. The missions
threatened many of the traditional institutions of the tribes. They
opposed dancing, drum beating, village feast and festivals, the
ceremonies surrounding births, marriages, and deaths, traditional
styles of clothing, polygamy, and initiation ceremonies, in short
anything that was related to the old pagan worship (Robinson
2003: 63). Hence, we see the Christian Khasis of Meghalaya do not
take part in the Sad-Suk-Mynstem festival or the Nongkrem festi­
val. The phenomenon continues in many tribal populations. They
remain aloof from their traditional dances; accept Western names
for their children, start wearing Western clothes, sing Western
music and so on. Society was transformed, but whether entirely
for the better is questionable.
Missionary education brought with it the accoutrements
of Westernized instructional techniques and systems. The very
notions of a written mode of expression in some cultures carried
with it a powerful spur for social change. Enculturation, of some
sort and to some degree, was inevitable.

III
Missionary Education as an Agent of Social Amelioration
The role of the missionary educator as converter brings into
perspective the second missionary archetype, namely the missionary
 Straying beyond Conquest and Emancipation 207

education as agent of social amelioration. Social amelioration here

means ‘to make better’ or ‘to improve upon’. Missionary conversion
through social osmosis rather than through direct proselytization
is an attractive concept. It gives the impression of missionaries as
community workers first, and proselytizers second, and assume
even greater legitimacy when it is backed up by the suggestion that
the natives, themselves, requested intervention. This part of the
article would like to highlight the prominent contribution made
by the missionaries, particularly in the areas of women’s education,
removal of irrational beliefs that were hindering their development
and formation of a sort of common identity, which even today acts
as the integrative principle among the various tribes of north-east
India.

Education of Women
The early work of the missionaries was almost wholly confined to
the world of men. As the schools opened the minds of the men and
boys to new ideas, the gap between them and the women widened;
Christianity as it was actually being practised, increased the
difference in the status of the sexes, instead of diminishing it (Sykes
1968: 5). The education of girls contradicted the stereotypical role
of women in the tribal society. It was a role that saw them as the
centre of domestic life but not, in fact, active participants in the
kinds of decision-making positions and processes that education
encourages of those who receive it (Sykes 1968: 59).
Education of girls was thus a task beset with difficulties in
India. There was still a great lack of appreciation of female educa­
tion (Sangma 1987: 148). Even among the Garos and Khasi-Jaintias
of Meghalaya where the women have liberty and personal rights,
it was not easy to convince the people of the advantages of female
education. Mrs Lewis, the wife of Rev. William Lewis, encountered
great difficulties in educating the women in Khasi Hills. There is
an adage in Khasi Hills that says, ‘The mother is the head of the
house and the ruler of the kitchen.’ The logic of their rebuttal for
women’s education is that when women are already leading in the
sphere of religion as its keeper and reigned in the house (the core
208 Hoineilhing Sitlhou

of the house symbolized by the kitchen), where was the need for
them to take up work in another sphere? (Natarajan 1977: 64).
There were evidences where the girls exhibited natural bent
for learning, but the need of the girls’ help at home and the lack of
interest on the part of the parents regarding the education of their
daughters made progress in this sphere very slow (Sangma 1987:
146). Among the American Baptist Mission field, the missionaries’
request for a single lady to be sent to open a school for Garo girls
was answered by sending Miss Miriam Russell in 1879. She wrote
upon her arrival at Tura,
In this field, there are 20 schools for boys, but no school for Garo girls.
A few girls are found in some village schools, but they are ridiculed by
the boys and the timid ones are kept away. The boys point the finger of
scorn at them and cry out—‘A great girl like you in school! You ought
to be ashamed. You are big enough to be married.’ (Safford cf. Sangma
1987: 148)

The missionary, Mr Lewis of the Welsh Presbyterian, too,

attested to have faced a degree of difficulty in training the girls
than the boys or the men. Some parents of the scholars had taken
the counsel of the village ‘diviner’ or ‘egg-breaker’ in the matter
of women’s education. The oracle had declared that every girl
who touched a book would be childless, and thus the clan would
become extinct. No objection, however, was raised to their learn­
ing to sew and to knit (Morris 1996: 96).
According to J. Meirion Lloyd, by tradition, men in Mizo soci­
ety thought women to be inferior creations. A traditional saying
gave popular expression to this attitude: ‘A woman’s mind does
not reach across the stream’, ‘neither crabs nor women have any
religion; a fence can be changed; so can a wife’ (Lloyd 1991: 109).
A woman had no rights at all. Body, mind and spirit, she belonged
from her birth to her death to her father, her brother, her husband.
The women did most of the work of the village (ibid.: 13). ‘It was
the women who did the burdensome chores, carried the heaviest
loads, rose earliest in the morning and if they had any opinions
those were never regarded as important’ (ibid.). She cooked for the
pigs, spun the cotton for cloth and carried all the burdens up and
 Straying beyond Conquest and Emancipation 209

down the hills whether it is wood, water or rice (Sykes 1968: 14).
The traditional marriage practices of the Mizos also contributed
and reflected the denigrated position of women in the society. At
the time of marriage, the man has to pay bride price of a mithun
or more as per the agreement made between the two families. She
became a possession of the husband and this also made divorce
easy. All children belong to the father and the fathers’ family (ibid.).
It was quite clear that the men had no wish to see any change
in the status-pattern of society. So, keeping in mind the context,
when schools for girls started, the work and lessons were done
out-of-doors as much as possible, school life was not supposed to
spoil them for village work (ibid.: 109). Therefore, the women mis­
sionaries, like Chapman and Clark, who were trained in such arts,
formulated the curriculum by including practical works, which
the girls were made to do in addition to their normal subjects.
The practical works included weaving, needlework, basket work in
bamboo and cane, infant care, simple pottery, knitting and crochet
work, improved methods of gardening and farm work, household
management, drawing, painting, singing and tonic-solfa, games
and simple dances, etc. (Dena 1988: 97-8).
Education as pioneered by the missionaries helped the women
gain the self-respect that was due to them as human beings. It did
not make them become like men as predicted but enabled them to
become better women. Emancipation of women became possible
as recorded by missionaries of Mizoram,
We saw the boys thoughtfully looking at the girls. How different they
were from village girls! They could not despise these women, nor ill-treat
them. They began to respect them, not because we told them that men
should behave well to women folk, but because the girls unconsciously
showed themselves worthy of respect. (Sykes 1968: 52)

Commenting on the state of society in Mizoram after the

introduction of education by the missionaries, a local of the village
by the name Hminga commented that:
In the pre-Christian society divorce was easy and common because
women had very little right if any at all. Husband and wife relationship
were not cooperative. Every husband was afraid of being dubbed as ‘hen­
210 Hoineilhing Sitlhou

pecked’ and so would not lift his finger to help his wife in any domestic
work. In fact, members of the family often would not speak to one
another kindly. Christianity has transformed Mizo family life, divorce
is rare, husbands are less bossy and more helpful to their wives, love and
kindness are seen in the relation of the family members. (Hminga cf.
Downs 1992: 160-1)

Western culture interprets the domestication of women as an

indicator of social disadvantage, and it applauds female emancipa­
tion. It views, as well, the lack of formal educational opportunity
as an index of social disenfranchisement—and the provision of an
educational franchise as a worthy endeavour of any social orga­
nization (MacKenzie 1993: 59). This ideology had now become a
part of north-east India through the introduction of education.

Removal of Irrational Beliefs

Another important contribution made by the mission schools is
in getting rid of the superstitious beliefs that confined the native
into a rigid categorical mould. There was a custom among the
Mizos to bury the baby alive with the dead mother. When the
government took over the district, this practice was forbidden, but
what happened then was really more cruel for the baby. No one
would do anything for a motherless baby because of superstition
and fear. They thought the mother’s spirit would haunt whoever
tried to keep the baby from her and the spirit, which had killed
the mother, would be angry with anyone trying to keep the baby
alive; so the poor baby died a much more lingering and painful
death of starvation and neglect (Lloyd 1991: 15). The missionaries
established infant care centres both to disprove their belief and to
educate them in pragmatic terms the irrationality of their belief.
As prevalent in most tribes of north-east India, among the
Thadou clan of the Kuki tribes of Manipur, there was a belief in
a place called Mi-thi-khu (abode of death men) where the spirits
of men and women, great and small, must go. A sort of female
demon, ‘Kulsamnu’, sitting by the roadside, seizes all poor wander­
ing souls, and troubles them sorely unless their relatives who have
gone on before come to their rescue (Shakespear 1975: 199). The
 Straying beyond Conquest and Emancipation 211

advantages obtained by the spirits of those who have slain men

and beasts and given feasts over others was that she does not dare
detain them. The belief indirectly encourages wars, headhunting
and violence in other forms. The missionaries were able to reach to
these tribes through mission schools started by A.G. Crozier and
others subsequently after him (Downs 1971). Education offered a
new form of consciousness, which was more peaceful, pragmatic
and reasonable.
The superstitious fear of diseases, especially of the infectious
kind had always oppressed the Northeast indigene greatly. Lloyd
(1991: 211) narrates his experiences in the hills of Mizoram where
in cases like small pox or cholera, they unwittingly made matters
worse by trying to squeeze all the villagers into the same small
house. The belief was that this would leave the ramhuai (demon)
no room to enter, and it would go away. The missionaries did
not merely impose Western medicine on the natives, but they in
their zeal to convert and gain their trust, patiently educated and
explained to them about the cause and cure of such diseases.

Tribal Identity: Consonance and Conflict

Before the advent of the British, the primary units of identity were
clan, family and village or small groups of villages as in the Khasi
states. The several village states were frequently at war with each
other, and in many cases had developed dialectical differences
(Piang 2000) so great that communication among them was
difficult if not impossible. Each village state had its own culture and,
often, its own religion. There was a general awareness that a group
of villages living in a particular geographical area were somehow
related to each other in a way that they not were related to others.
There were similarities of myth, religious and social customs,
and languages, but the differences in these same areas were even
greater. T.C. Hodson, one of the first scholars to struggle with this
problem, in his The Naga Tribes of Manipur (1911) admits failure
in the end. ‘In most respects’, he wrote, ‘the idea of tribal solidarity
meets with no recognition’. He did find that a Kabui Naga, for
instance, was ‘acquainted with the general legend that all Kabuis
212 Hoineilhing Sitlhou

are descended from one of the three brothers, but probably regards
it as a far-off event destitute of any real importance’ (1911: 81).
One of the most obvious means of determining the tribe to
which people belong is language. Unlike other parts of India where
tribes often speak the language of neighbouring non-tribals, in the
north-east each tribe has its own language. But language was a
weak unifying factor due to the development of dialectical differ­
ences (Piang, 2000). The first modern scholar, to note the linguistic
diversity among the members of a single tribe, was P.R.T. Gurdon.
Speaking about the Khasis and Jaintias, he wrote in 1907:
The inhabitants of the Khasi and Jaintia hills may be said to be divided
into the following sections: Khasis, Synteng or Pnar, War, Bhoi, and
Lynngam. These divisions represent collections of people inhabiting
several tracts of country and speaking dialects which although often
deriving their origin form the Khasi roots, are frequently so dissimilar to
the standard language as to be almost unrecognizable. (Gurdon 1907: 62)

Thus, while it is clear that during the pre-British period tribal

language was not a primary reference point for identity among the
hill people of north-east India, it is equally clear that during the
British and non-British periods it became increasingly so. British
bureaucrats needed to classify and name the peoples they gov­
erned. They were the first to systematically assign names to the
tribes, often using names given by neighbouring peoples or even
names apparently arising out of misunderstanding of informants
(the name ‘Garo’ is a case in point) (Downs 1994: 32). The social
and political ideologies that were partially a product of their class
background were a very important part of the luggage that the
missionaries brought with them to India. For instance, Assamese
today honour Miles Bronson and his colleagues as the saviours of
their culture, of their distinctive identity as a people and as pio­
neers in the development of modern Assamese literature (Downs
1994: 69).
The creation of a centrally controlled network of schools pro­
vided an agency that contributed to tribal unity. Sangma (1987)
discussed how the opening of schools by the American Baptist
Mission Society in strategic locations in Nagaland contributed to
 Straying beyond Conquest and Emancipation 213

tribal unity by bringing together different sub groups of the Nagas

from different regional backgrounds. Similarly, L. Jeyaseelan, in
assessing the impact of Christianity on the tribal society of Mani­
pur, wrote that education and the development of literature has
encouraged the study of origin, migration and settlement. The hill
tribes are discovering their identity as ‘Naga’, ‘Kuki’, ‘Mizo’, ‘Zomi’,
etc., and this has changed their outlook, thought patterns regard­
ing their neighbouring tribes and communities (Jeyaseelan 1999:
85). In the process they are redefining the notion of who is the
‘outsider’ as against who constitute the ‘insider’ to the community.
It was not only the Christian revival movement that spread across
and beyond geographical boundaries to neighbouring countries,
but so do literatures and ideas. According to Zairema (1978: 37-40)
Mizo literature has been used beyond the areas of Mizoram in the
Chin Hills of Burma and southern region of Manipur where there
are speakers of the Lushai (Mizo) dialect. Besides Mizo literature,
inter-marriages and inter-migrations and the location of a mission
school also brings together people from far-flung areas.
The written language was used to create the first literature of
the tribe, a literature that was used in the schools. They not only
propagated the standard language so that at least the educated
could begin to communicate with each other’s across dialectical
barriers, but they also provided a common social space, through
their boarding departments in which student from different vil­
lages of the tribe lived together (Downs 1994: 238). Inevitably, their
work on education provided the material basis for the emergence
of Westernized and articulate elites who became critical of the
colonial rule. Animesh Ray traced the development of a new class
of intelligentsia or new elites due to the education system of the
missionaries in Mizoram. They wanted freedom from the chiefs,
from customary community discipline and from the restraints of
colonial rule (Roy 1982: 66).
While it is true that to a large extent the people modified and
indigenized the gospel proclaimed by the missionaries, there were
nevertheless certain features of the received forms of the new faith
that brought about changes in world view, and in doing so contrib­
uted to the development of tribal identity. The missionary schools
214 Hoineilhing Sitlhou

through the creation of a standard language unintentionally pro­

moted the geographical integration of societies and a creation of
a tribal identity that could replace the traditional village-oriented
identity.

IV
Local Agencies: Confrontation and Engagements
The presumption in favour of the conduct of mission schools as
stated by Rev. C.E. Burdette was that,
It is an advantage to have access to the minds of heathen, old or young,
while in the receptive, trustful attitude of a school. Schools have always
been considered a good means of disseminating knowledge of any kind,
and especially for the instillation of new principles, good or bad. (Bur­
dette 1886: 167)

The clear implication that underpins these statements is that the

mission school will generate a society out of the young generation
that is fundamentally different from that of the old. That this
should be so is neither surprising nor new, for the logic of sending
missionaries to difficult and remote areas of the world is founded
unambiguously on a wish not to preserve the status quo but to
change it. According to them, educational institutions served
double purposes: first, as a means of teaching the Christians truth,
and second, as a means for recruitment or training of future native
workers. Naturally, therefore, the missionaries gave priority to the
study of local vernaculars as the basis for the formulation of their
educational programmes. Even before their entry into Manipur
and Lushai Hills, the Arthington missionaries, Messrs William
Pettigrew, J.H. Lorrain and F.W. Savidge started learning the
languages of the respective regions at their camp in Cachar (Dena
1988: 91).

The Mission Schools: Problems and Prospects

The local people, on their part, initially looked upon the
introduction of education with suspicion and as an attempt for
 Straying beyond Conquest and Emancipation 215

intrusion that threatened the existing social structure. Even when

the missionaries fondly hoped that the antagonism to their efforts
was almost at an end, they found that in reality it had hardly yet
began. In the Khasi-Jaintia Hills, as soon as it became apparent that
their teaching was influencing the young people with whom they
came in contact, the most zealous supporters of the old religion
became enraged. The superstitions and prejudice of the people was
more deeply rooted than the missionaries had believed. ‘Breaking
of eggs’, and other means of ‘consultations with the demons’ were
resorted to daily; the children were closely questioned as to what
they had been taught in the school; and sternly warned to heed
neither the teacher nor their lessons, lest the wrath of the demons
overtake them, and their clan be destroyed. The excitement became
intense; parents, far and near, were cautioned against sending their
children within reach of the missionaries’ influence, who credited
with possessing a mysterious charm, by means of which they
could make the children ‘obedient to themselves in all things, and
disobedient to their parents’ (Morris 1996: 978).
Another problem faced by them was the irregularity in the
attendance of the students. William Carey had to abandon his
schools at Madnabati because he said ‘poverty of the natives
caused them frequently to take their children to work’, especially
during planting and harvesting seasons (B.M.S., M.S.S., Carey’s
Journal, 18 January 1795). The diary of a village teacher, Kunga,
in Mizoram narrates the day-by-day difficulties faced by a school­
teacher.
In the day school the course of the children’s education seldom ran
smooth. There were too many interruptions. One weekend was particu­
larly exciting. On Monday morning they heard that a wild dog had come
into the village and killed a pig, and that a tiger, too, had mauled a pig
the previous night. News also came that a villager had just died. This
was something which called for immediate action. So, the boys had to go
off to dig the grave and the school duly closed for the occasion. Grave-
digging was a task which nobody relished for the ground was often very
rocky, but it was a chore which the Mizos would ever refuse. The Mizo
tradition of ‘tlawmngaihna’ (mutual help) would not permit even small
boys to ignore a call for help. On this occasion, as a rather dubious and
216 Hoineilhing Sitlhou

dangerous compensation for their labours, the lads were permitted to

join the other villagers in chasing last night’s tiger off the village land
(Kunga’s letter to a missionary name. (Sandy cf. Lloyd 1991: 196-7)

The government schools at the centre created the tribal elite

who later on became the leaders of the revivalist movements, and
who effectively opposed both the colonial rule and the proselytiza­
tion of the missionaries. The development of literature extended to
the secular field where the educated natives used it to revive their
cultural past, which sometimes stood in opposition to the mission­
ary’s enterprises. A significant example of this is the Seng Khasi
movement, which started at the end of the nineteenth century in
Meghalaya. The movement aims at the revival of traditional Khasi
culture, traditional belief, customs and forms of expression. It con­
sidered the missionaries’ activities as a threat to it. These sorts of
movements were largely led by modernized elements within the
tribes (Downs 1994: 206).
Education also enabled the local agencies to negotiate with the
colonial rulers through the advantage of a common language. In
the Naga Hills, those who went as labour corps to France during
the First World War had returned with a greater consciousness of
the need to forge unity, cooperation and understanding among
the Nagas and of their political rights as a nation within the larger
world politics (Asoso Yonuo 1982: 64-5). Those who were ben­
eficiaries of modern education and related social mobility could
not agree more with this concern, and as a result, in 1918, a group
of Nagas comprising of certain lower rung government officials,
a few village headmen, and some teachers and other educated
men came together to form the Naga Club (Naga Club: Historical
Background, 1985). The objective of this club was to create a space
where some of the social and political concerns confronting the
Nagas could be discussed and deliberated upon, and find ways in
which they could be addressed. It was one of the first efforts to forge
unity and understanding among all the Naga tribes across village,
clan, tribe and religious loyalties, and develop a feeling of oneness
among the Nagas. In 1929, when the Simon Commission came to
the Naga Hills, the Naga Club first articulated their yearning to be
 Straying beyond Conquest and Emancipation 217

left to themselves in order to determine their own political future.

It submitted a memorandum stating the cultural and political dis­
tinctness of the Nagas, explaining why they should not be brought
under the reformed scheme being planned for the administration
of India and expressing their wish to live as an independent nation
(The Naga National Rights and Movement, 10 January 1929: 9-11).

Shared Enterprise
The interaction between the missionary and the colonial and
the indigene was complicated. Instances of close collusion did
exist; as did examples of open dissent. But, for the most part, the
relationship was marked by a good deal of mutual pragmatism.
This is hardly surprising as colonized territories were, by
definition, frontier territories—often dangerous and unknown.
For these very reasons, missionary work relied on the goodwill
not only of colonial administrators but also on the benevolence
of the indigenous people for its success (MacKenzie 1993: 55).
In fact, the expansion of Christianity in many parts of the north­
east of India has indeed been about such a ‘shared enterprise’. The
‘planting’ of churches in various parts of the nineteenth century
could never have been accomplished without the active initiatives
of local people, who freely appropriated the Christian message, for
themselves and commended that message both within their own
societies and beyond. Local people were as much missionaries as
were members of the mission societies. The significance of the role
of the native interpreter is not difficult to imagine in a region like
north-east India, which is characterized by linguistic and cultural
diversity. Besides the early converts and the lambus (interpreters)
who helped in translation works, the native clerks, chaparasis
and village chiefs were also involved as informants at various
points in the codification of customary laws and textualization of
ethnographic works. In fact, they were active participants in the
process and acted as an indispensable aide to the missionaries.
They were often the driving force in the work of evangelization,
Bible translation, printing, creating education and health facilities,
and building up and providing pastoral care for the community.
218 Hoineilhing Sitlhou

Conclusion
The study accepts the limitations that come with generalizing on an
area as vast as the hills of north-east of India, which is marked by
cultural diversity and is bound to have different set of experiences
with colonialism. The commonality, parallelism and differences
in features, phenomena, cultural practices and belief system, etc.,
are utilized to bring to us a better understanding of the nature of
encounter between the three agencies—colonial administrators,
missionaries and the local inhabitants.
The missionary education served different, but equally useful
purpose for both the missionary and the administrator. The col­
laboration between them, if any, were often temporary and would
cease to exist at the slightest instances of incongruity to the goals
of each party. Regarding the impact, the introduction of educa­
tion greatly impeded on the social structure. Enculturation did
happen, in which many aspects of the cultural elements were cur­
tailed, done away with or remodelled to suit the convenience of the
missionaries and their goals.
On the other hand, it contributed prominently in the areas
of women’s position, removal of irrational beliefs and fostering
a common space in which the different tribes who were divided
by linguistic or geographical differences could come together. The
local people regarded the education system with suspicion in the
beginning. However, it later on became the instrument for them to
engage with colonialism. The local people were not passive observ­
ers to the colonial project. They were active participants, either in
assisting or in resisting it. So, the site of the missionary education is
a contested terrain of various actors and agencies, exhibiting both
manifest and latent consequences simultaneously and, therefore,
cannot be viewed as a singular historical entity.

Note
The essay was earlier published with the same title in the Indian
Anthropologist, vol. 39, nos. 1&2, January-December 2009. A revised
version was also published in chapter 3 titled, ‘Exploring the Faultlines
 Straying beyond Conquest and Emancipation 219

of Missionary Education in North-East India’, in my edited book,

Deconstructing Colonial Ethnography: An Analysis of Missionary Writings
on North East India, Ruby Press, New Delhi, 2017.

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 CHAPTER 10

Health, a Gift of God at Sanatorium and

Missionary Activities in Madras Presidency
B. ESWARA RAO

Medical missionaries, as part of their philanthropy, human­

itarianism and evangelism, played a crucial role in colonial Indian
society. Among other activities, health care and establishment
of various special medical institutions were a crucial element
in their evangelical activities. Missionary activities have always
been defined as ‘clinical Christianity’ and instruments of ‘double
cure and care’1 to convert the economically and socially deprived
sections of the society, particularly ‘lower castes’. Elsewhere,
missionary medicine practised along with colonial medicine
operated as a civilizing enterprise to usher the tribes into Christian
modernity.2 However, the activities and motives of missionaries
were not restricted or confined to only these sections of society but
extended to different landscapes of the society at large. Particularly
from the early twentieth century, they widened the scope of their
activities by using various innovative strategies in their missionary
organizations such as hospitals, sanatoria and dispensaries to
overcome various challenges from other religions. This paper aims
to explore how Christian medical missionaries encompassed not
just evangelical activities in their missionary organizations alone
but also created social and cultural spaces within which there
were rules and norms of patient behaviours that structured and
operated and gave shape to new ideas about the illness, body
hygiene, health habits and, cleanliness by disseminating Western
medical practices, medical technology and treatment methods
for tuberculosis patients in the Union Mission Tuberculosis
224 B. Eswara Rao

Sanatorium (UMTS), Madanapalle which was established in 1912

by the union of missionaries in the Madras Presidency.
The medical institutions specific to tuberculosis treatment
were established through both government agencies and non­
governmental agencies. Non-governmental agencies, particularly
Christian medical missionaries, private philanthropic organiza­
tions and individuals, made possible the establishment of sanatoria
and dispensaries in the Presidency. Union Mission Tuberculosis
Sanatorium (UMTS), Madanapalle, was one such institute, jointly
established with the cooperation and collaboration of various
missions along with the Madras presidency government. Unlike
general hospitals, in the sanatorium, treatment was given in an
isolated place where patients stayed for a long time. Therefore,
the sanatorium was not just an institution which provided medi­
cal treatment but it was also as a medico-social space in which a
missionary medical institution operated and included all sections
of society. It became a model institution for not only providing
tuberculosis patients care but also gained a reputation for medical
research and innovative tuberculosis care health programmes in
India.

Early Initiatives for Establishment of the Sanatorium

Faced with financial difficulty the government reduced medical
expenditure year after year from 1910 onwards.3 It was much worse
during the First World War. The Government of India grant was
also meagre after the transfer of the subject of health to provincial
governments. This provided the space for private agencies to play
an active role in the establishment of tuberculosis institutions.
Humanitarian and philanthropic motives drove many to take a
leading role in establishment of sanatoria. Moreover, India’s rich
showed their loyalty to the state by actively involving themselves
in philanthropic activities with both intentions—to win favours
with the government for getting higher bureaucratic positions and
for trade benefits.4 The health problems were constructed in such a
way that infection/infected persons were perceived to be a danger
to the whole society. It was seen as a responsible enterprise to take
 Health, a Gift of God at Sanatorium 225

part in various health and sanitary activities. Christian missionaries

combined such activity with their evangalical mission (‘clinical
Christianity’) and established sanatoria and dispensaries and took
active part in control measures by contributing funds. Particularly
in the case of tuberculosis, the involvement of non-governmental
agencies played a prominent role both in the establishment of the
medical institutions and in the adoption of preventive measures.
Union Mission Tuberculosis Sanatorium, Madanapalle, was
one such institute set up to provide medical care. On 25 May 1910,
the annual conference of the south Indian section of Indian Medi­
cal Missionary Association was held in the American Mission
Church at Kodaikanal. In this conference, Rev. T.V. Campbell, of
the London Mission, Jammalamadugu, Cuddapah district, pre­
sented a paper on ‘Pulmonary Tuberculosis in Mission Schools and
in the Christian Community in South India’. Dr Campbell empha­
sized more on tuberculosis as an important subject by referring
to the previous year’s (February 1909) Indian Medical Missionary
Association meeting held in Bombay in which he had discussed
the prevalence of tuberculosis among children in the missionary
schools of north India. This conference had also passed a resolu­
tion to explore diverse means of treatment for tuberculosis—for
affected schoolchildren and patients. These proposals were sent to
all secretaries of the medical missions. Against this background,
Dr Campbell confirmed the wide prevalence of tuberculosis all
over south India by comparing statistics from almost all mission
hospitals in south India, including Mysore and Tranvancore. He
proved that the disease was widely spread not only among the
poor and the rich class but also among low and high castes. Out­
patient statistics alone showed that the average rate of prevalence
was 11.8 per 1,000 in south India; in some districts it was as high
as 44 while in other districts it was as low as three per 1,000. The
overall rate though was much higher than Calcutta and Bombay.
The death rate from tuberculosis in Calcutta and Bombay was only
3.5 per 1,000 and 3 per 1,000, respectively, much higher than in
England and Wales. In the American Arcot Mission, out of the
500 boarding pupils 72 were affected by tuberculosis. The mission
sent 24 cases for treatment to Punganur5 where the mission had
226 B. Eswara Rao

taken the lead in establishing a tuberculosis sanatorium. The treat­

ment in this sanatorium proved more successful. Some preventive
measures were also implemented in the mission schools such as
providing extra food such as milk, eggs and ghee to schoolchil­
dren, making them sleep in the open air and regularly measuring
weight. The conclusion was that fresh air, sunlight, good food and
water, work and exercise in the open air, segregation of suspected
cases and isolation of diseased patients would help in fighting this
dreaded disease. Dr Campbell called for establishing sanatoria and
for providing special accommodation for tuberculosis patients in
mission hospitals. Finally, he emphasized that there was a need for
cooperation among missions and ‘perhaps, the most pressing need
was a Union Tuberculosis Sanatorium, in suitable climate, and in as
central a town as possible, such as Madanapalle’. In the discussion
all participants expressed their appreciation for addressing this
important problem. The chairman of the session said, ‘The eyes
of all had been opened to the alarming extent of tuberculosis in
South India. The urgent need of doing something at an early date
to provide a sanatorium and to take steps to prevent the spread
of disease was the consensus of opinion.’6 The chairman further
stated that ‘government would encourage any proposition that
might be made, and would probably assist in establishing a sana­
torium’.7 Immediately after this meeting, the Government of India
sent a memorandum to the government of Madras on 14 June
1910, drawing attention to the widespread prevalence of tubercu­
losis and for establishment of suitable institutions for treatment of
tuberculosis patients in the presidency. In the memorandum the
government invited cooperation of charitable public and directed
P.H. Benson’s (surgeon-general of the Madras Presidency), atten­
tion to the report on the discussions that had taken place at the
conference of the south Indian branch of All India Medical Mis­
sionary Association held in Kodaikanal. This was the beginning
of the colonial government’s initiatives towards the establish­
ment of tuberculosis sanatoria and hospitals.8 The Tuberculosis
Committee formed to enquire into and find various possibilities
and ways for the establishment of tuberculosis sanatoria in the
Madras Presidency fully supported the efforts being made by
the various medical missionary societies of south India to start a
 Health, a Gift of God at Sanatorium 227

sanatorium at Madanapalle. The government recognized Dr T.V.

Campbell’s contribution and appointed him as a member of the
tuberculosis committee. The committee recommended an annual
grant towards maintenance of the Union Mission Tuberculosis
Sanatorium, Madanaplle. The view was that it would be better for
the government, from a financial point of view, to encourage the
enterprise by liberal donations towards building the sanatorium.
The committee indicated that this institution should be ‘open to all
creeds and caste alike without distinction’. The government agreed
to assist the sanatorium at Madanapalle from the provincial fund
and not from the King Edward VII Memorial Fund based on the
conditions specified by the committee. The surgeon-general was
instructed to report on the total cost of the scheme, the amount
of assistance sought by the mission union, and the actual steps
which the missions contemplated towards the establishment of the
sanatorium.9
A sanatorium was started by the Arcot Mission at Punganur in
1909 in a temporary building. After a union of seven missions was
formed, this sanatorium was transferred to Madanapalle in 1911.
The transferred sanatorium would run in temporary shelters and
serve both male and female patients. In the same year, the govern­
ment promised to give a building grant which was non-recurrent,
equal to half the capital cost of construction of the sanatorium’s
maximum estimate of Rs. 30,000, and, in addition to this, a recur­
ring annual grant equal to half the cost of its maintenance, a
maximum of up to Rs. 10,000 per annum.10 The government of
Madras sanctioned an initial amount Rs. 2,100 from the provincial
fund for the upkeep of the sanatorium.11
The Arcot Sanatorium at Madanapalle was taken over by the
union of seven medical missions committee from 1 October 1912.
Since then it was known as the Union Mission Tuberculosis Sana­
torium which accommodated 30 patients in temporary rooms.
This sanatorium consisted of four new shelters for private patients,
one caste kitchen, one cow and straw shed and one disinfect­
ing chamber, which were under the charge of Dr L.H. Hart and
Miss MacDonnell, the female superintendent. They were asked to
submit a report of expenditure of the sanatorium. They submit­
ted the report and selected a site for the permanent structure on
228 B. Eswara Rao

the main road of Madanapalle which was nearer to the railway

station and the town. Plan and estimate for the permanent build­
ings were prepared and sent for approval of the government. On
24 October 1912, a meeting of the Union of Mission Committee
on Tuberculosis convened in Madras. All the 25 missions in south
India were asked to join in support of this scheme. But only seven
missions came forward to cooperate in the effort. They were
(1) The American Arcot Mission;
(2) The American Lutheran Mission, Guntur;
(3) The Basel German Evangelical Mission;
(4) The Church of England Zenana Mission;
(5) The Danish Lutheran Evangelical Mission;
(6) The London Mission; and
(7) The United Free Church of Scotland Mission.
In 1913 the Methodist Episcopal Mission also joined.12 From
each mission, delegates were sent to organize the scheme. Rev. L.R.
Scudder, Miss L.H. Hart and Rev. B. Rottschaefer from Arcot Mis­
sion, Rev. V. McCauley, Miss A.S. Kugler, from Lutheran Mission
of Guntur, Dr W. Stokes from Basel Mission, Rev. J. Bittman from
Danish Lutheran Mission, Rev. E.P. Rice, Rev. C.G. Marshall, Rev.
W. Hinkely, and Dr T.T. Thomson from London Mission, Miss
A.M. Macphail from United Free Mission were representatives
of the United Mission Sanatorium Committee. There was no rep­
resentative from the Church of England Zenana Mission. In this
meeting, Rev. L.V. Scudder was elected convener and treasurer of
the Committee. The available union of the mission’ funds for the
building and upkeep were Rs. 13,640 and Rs. 2,950 respectively.
The Union Mission Tuberculosis Sanatorium Committee formu­
lated rules for the management:
(1) the managing body shall consist of representatives elected
by the cooperating missions together with the doctor and
lady superintendent as ex-officio;
(2) Each mission contributing Rs. 200 to the annual upkeep
was entitled to one representative on the governing body
and an additional representative for each additional con­
tribution of Rs. 200.
 Health, a Gift of God at Sanatorium 229

The mission contributing Rs. 100 towards the upkeep of the

sanatorium was entitled to get one bed and free treatment for
patients sent by them but the cost of food alone was charged. The
managing body appointed an executive committee of seven, of
whom the doctor and the lady superintendent become ex-officio
members. Though the Union Mission Sanatorium was started by
missions it provided treatment to people from other religions and
castes along with Christians. It was clearly stated by L.R. Scudder,
convener of the committee:
I hereby certify that the sanatorium at Madanapalle was and is open to all
castes and creeds without distinction irrespective of their incomes. Those
who are in a position to contribute were and are required to do so. I also
certify that the attendance of patients at a course of religious instruction
was and is entirely optional.13

After two years of the sanatorium’s establishment, the Union

Mission Sanatorium Committee said that ‘in view of the urgency
and magnitude of the campaign against tuberculosis … excellent
results … have been obtained at the Union Mission Sanatorium
at Madanapalle which is at present the only one in South India’.14
The patients were transferred from the temporary shed in
Madanapalle town to the permanent buildings on 28 June 1915,
but the building was officially inaugurated by Lord Pentland, the
Governor of Madras on 19 July 1915.15 The sanatorium ran ‘on the
same scientific lines’ that had proved successful in Western coun­
tries. However, there were some modifications as were ‘required
by the special conditions of this land’.16 It was erected in a place
known as Arogyavaram,17 after studying the climate and the avail­
ability of transport, both road and rail. The physical layout of the
sanatorium made available various segregated spaces such as the
doctor’s bunglow, the lady superintendent’s bunglow, the wards for
Anglo-Indians, European wards, general wards, private wards, the
quarters for Indian assistants and nurses and the menial staff. The
architecture of the wards were designed with certain speficiations
to facilitate open air treatment. The wards were simple in structure
with a high basement and roof supported on series of pillars and
open on all sides for getting the fresh air.18
230 B. Eswara Rao

In 1922, the Telugu section of the Catholic Mission Society

Church Council joined in the union in support of the sanatorium.
It was considered a great encouragement for the committee to
receive the first Indian church organization into the union. The
Union Mission Sanatorium hoped that the other Indian self-
governing church bodies would similarly come forward for this
work.19 By 1922-3, 13 missions had joined and cooperated with
the Union Mission Tuberculosis Sanatorium, Madanapalle. These
included the American Presbyterian Mission, Church of Sweden
Mission, Methodist Episcopal Mission (American), SPG Mission,
Wesleyan Mission and CMS Church Council (Telugu section).20
Two more missions joined in 1925-6.21
Sanatorium treatment not only consists of ‘open air treatment’
but also special therapeutic measures. Besides living in open air,
rest, prescribed daily graded exercises and diet, medical remedies
were given according to individual needs.22 The diet was one of
the important features of sanatorium treatment. Special diet was
given to the weak patients to build vitality to fight against infec­
tion. The prescribed normal diet in the UMTS such as milk, eggs,
meat, fruits, vegetables, pulses apart from wheat bread and rice
were given to patients. Each patient got about 2,600-2,800 calories
of food per day. A major portion of expenditure from annual total
budget of the sanatorium was on food.23 In addition to these meth­
ods, open air treatment and good diet, the sanatorium also used
various surgical and techniquies of treatment methods. The treat­
ment methods of collapse therapy which was very much comon in
Western countries was used. The collapse therapy methods, such as
artificial pneumothrax, thorcoplasty, brochoscopy, lung resection,
lumber puncture, phrenic nerve operations, oleothorax (pumping
of oil into pleural cavity), etc., were carried out in the sanatorium.
From 1921, artificial pneumothorax became standard methods of
treatment in the UMTS. On the whole, collapse therapies became
common in the sanatorium and nearly 40 per cent of patients were
treated with artificial pneumothorax.24
In the beginning there was an idea that in India sanatorium
treatment would only help in the early stages of tuberculosis. But
 Health, a Gift of God at Sanatorium 231

later it was realized that a sanatorium should expand to other cases

because patients might be cured anywhere by giving rest, good food
and fresh air. Given the steady increase in the number of patients
in the advanced stage seeking admission into the sanatorium,
the earlier notion appeared outdated. In 1929, an investigation
had been done by the Union Mission Tuberculosis Sanatorium,
Madanapalle, among patients nine years after their discharge from
the sanatorium. This study revealed the fact that even in the most
desperate cases the best results were obtained with the sanatorium
treatment.25 From 1920 onwards in the Madras Presidency consid­
erably more advanced cases were admitted into the sanatorium.
This is clearly evident in the table below:

Table 10.1: Stages of the diseases in patients admitted during 1916-30

Year Patients Stage I Stage II Stage III

admitted (%) (%) (%)
1916-20 807 29.5 46.5 24.0
1921-5 737 19.8 25.6 54.6
1926-30 1231 22.5 24.3 53.2
Source: Annual Report of UMTS-1929-30, p. 20.

During the period of 1921-30, more than half of patients

who were treated were in the third or the most advanced stage of
the disease. The total number of patients discharged after treat­
ment from the sanatorium was 1,544. Of this 580 were omitted as
untraceable cases and of the remaining 964 patients discharged,
including the most advanced cases 492 or 51.0 per cent were
alive after five years and 448 or 46.5 per cent were doing full-time
work. The sanatorium treatment showed that this was far better
considering both the different stages and the immediate results.
The same study showed that improved immediate results meant
improved after-results. A further improvement in the immediate
results in 1926-30 would mean a corresponding increase in the
number of patients living and working five years after discharge.
This improvement was brought about by the modern sanatorium
232 B. Eswara Rao

treatment26 which, along with modern discoveries and experi­

ences, led to this sanatorium becoming a pioneering sanatorium
in the presidency.
The backbone of modern sanatorium treatment was not only
fresh air, good food and other hygienic measures, but also special
treatment based upon the experience gained from the observations
of the clinical symptoms of the patients in relation to their rest and
exercise. Sanatorium treatment was now also based upon guiding
facts obtained by examination of blood, by using the sedimenta­
tion test of the red blood corpuscles and differential counts of the
white blood cells.27 Modern research carried out on the immuno­
biological aspects of tuberculosis had not only explained why this
change of rest and graded exercise constitutes the all important
basis for the whole treatment but had also helped to improve treat­
ment in many ways.28 The laboratory research made ‘possible the
treatment of complications on a real scientific basis especially in
the tropics’. Especially noticeable results were obtained among
the most advanced cases. The investigation of the after-histories
revealed that patients in the first and second stages of disease had
as a great chance of getting well later in life. Those who were dis­
charged were classified as ‘clinically well’.29
For treatment in the sanatorium only those in the early stage
of the disease and with a fair general state of health were allowed.
Patients paid a monthly fee. Patients who came recommended by
representatives of their mission had to pay Rs. 7 per mensem. The
non-members had to get a certificate from a gazetted government
official and pay Rs. 18 per mensem.30 The number of beds available
in the year 1916 was 90. By 1925 the number of wards available was
12 of which seven general wards contained 98 beds and five special
wards contained 18 beds each. The number of available beds for
patients was 150. Three of these wards formed a unit for men, two
a unit for women. Each of these units had a small ward with four
beds attached which were intended for Anglo-Indian men and
women, respectively. There were two semi-general wards. Special
wards, each containing one or two beds were also erected.31 UMTS
became one of the successful sanatoriums in India by initiating
several projects; particularly, the first preliminary trial of BCG
 Health, a Gift of God at Sanatorium 233

vaccination that was done in 1948 before officially launching in

India and the drug trail of streptomycin that was first given to the
patients of this sanatorium before introducing it in the market.
The first postgraduate diploma course on TB in India was started
in this sanatorium.32

Profile of the Patient

A very large majority of tuberculosis patients treated were from
lower income groups. This is evident from the annual reports of
the tuberculosis institute. During most years, women comprised a
little over 40 per cent of the total patients, suggesting that women
used the sanatorium almost as much as men did. One is not sure
whether this was due to the fact that the Christian mission had
a large number of girl schools and women serving in them or
that the social stigma of the disease forced women to take refuge
in the sanatorium. The average age of the patients rose steadily
over the years. It was 22 for women in 1920, while for men it was
25 in 1920. Over the decades, the range of age of the in patients
varied from less than one year to 70 years. Intially, patients who
belonged to Christianity occupied a major proportion of those
taking teatment. However, from 1917 onwards, nearly one half
of the patients were Hindus. The sanatorium became one of the
reputed institutes in India for providing theraputic treatment by
using modern methods and patient care. Therefore, patients came
not only from the districts of the Madras Presidency but also from
other regions and neighbouring countries.33
To facilitate the acceptance of treatment in sanatorium and
hospital, various facilities were provided to different social groups
recognizing the social and cultural beliefs within the institu­
tional space even in the medical missionary institutions. In the
year 1912-13 when the Union Mission Tuberculosis Sanatorium,
Madanapalle, worked from temporary shelters, it accommodated
a total of 32 patients—11 men and 15 women and children in the
general wards. A private shelter accommodated six caste patients,
both men and women. But the separate accommodation was given
to patients after payment of a fee. In the private wards, patients
234 B. Eswara Rao

were supplied with food cooked by the caste cook. There was a
caste kitchen where caste people could also cook their own food
or get it from their own relatives or friends. Only one European
patient took treatment at the sanatorium, the main reason for this
being the lack of proper accommodation.34 The average daily sick
from among Europeans in the Union Mission Tuberculosis Sana­
torium in the year 1913-14 was 1.55 as against nil in the previous
year and among Indians it aggregated to 28.12 as against 23.20 in
the previous half-yearly report. The largest number of in-patients
treated on any one day during the year was 40 against 26 in the
previous year. The caste-wise distribution was as follows: the total
Indian Christians mentioned as ‘other caste’ treated in the sana­
torium were 76 (including men, women, children), Hindus 20;
Mohammedans four; Europeans and Eurasians only two.35 After
transfer to its permanent buildings in July 1915 the number of
beds was increased to 90, which included 19 beds in special wards.
The number of patients treated during half the year (till Septem­
ber) was 105 as against 77 in the previous year (1914).36
In general special privileges were given and justified by the
colonial government on grounds of securing additional resources
for the institutions in the Madras Presidency. Beds were reserved
for Europeans and Eurasians. The newspaper, Swarajya (English),
from Madras reported that this amounted to racism. It made two
points in its editorial (on 25 November 1929). The government
was throwing away lakhs from public fund as salaries and allow­
ance to IMS officers, which was not necessary in this Presidency.
It urged the government to spend a few paise more on the diet
of the patients instead. The second point made was that there
was no justification for giving a more generous diet to Europeans
and Anglo-Indians as compared to Indians. The Government of
Madras justified its acts.37 The maximum limit of cost of diet for
patients in each hospital was fixed depending on various factors—
the high contract rates accepted for the supply of diet articles and
the comparatively large number of patients requiring special diet
in some of the hospitals. On the recommendations of the diet
committee the government abolished the maximum limits of cost
of diet per patient and prescribed in its place a scale of diet. The
 Health, a Gift of God at Sanatorium 235

cost of each diet and the average cost of ‘dieting’ a patient varied
under the above arrangements in accordance with the accepted
tender rates for the year. Several medical officers felt that the pres­
ent scale of diet was adequate. The medical officers would have
the discretion to vary the nature and composition of the diet. The
‘substitute’ diet prescribed would not be below the calorific value
fixed by the committee. It was necessary in some institutions, for
example, in the government hospital for women and children,
Madras, to give diet exceeding complaints. Some patients had to
be given more and, as a consequence, others got less. The average
cost of diet could not exceed the sanctioned amount.
The subject of reservation of beds for Europeans and Anglo-
Indians was also justified claiming that superintendents of
hospitals unanimously agreed that
the present practice of reserving beds is necessary as it is desired by the
majority of Indian patients and Anglo-Indian patients … it will not be
possible to run combined wards for Europeans and Anglo-Indians with
different arrangements for each class of patients as regards food, bath,
latrine and in fact everything in connection with mode of living.

The headquarters hospital from Madras also responded say­

ing that compared to the old diet the new scale of diet was richer
and much improved. Diet was fixed according to patients’ ability
and was maintained at a maximum calorific value. The patients
liked the diet and there were no complaints. The medical officer
prescribed it varying the nature or allowing extras according to
individual circumstances as necessary.38 When Indian wards were
overcrowded and if there was accommodation in the wards for
Europeans and Anglo-Indians, Indians who had adopted Euro­
pean habits and styles of living would be admitted into these wards.
However, statistics showed that in some hospitals in the districts,
the accommodation reserved for Europeans in the general wards
was considerably in excess of actual requirements. Therefore, the
surgeon-general requested the reduction of such reserved accom­
modation in these hospitals.39
The working of these institutions was entirely different from
nineteenth-century hospitals. During the nineteenth century, the
236 B. Eswara Rao

concerns of health and control of epidemics as a ‘political objective’

operated within the framework of ‘medical policing’. Institutional
reorganization, both in medicalization of the people and provid­
ing space within the institutes, took place particularly after 1896.
The existence of the caste divide was very much evident in the
process of functioning of UMTS. The caste Hindu practices were
continued even in the sanatorium in spite of missionary activity
and conversion of the lower castes. There is clear evidence that reli­
gious and social comforts were provided during the patients’ stay
in the sanatorium. The Anglo-Indians enjoyed greater privileges
than most others. Notions of ‘pollution’ and ‘purity’ among the
high and low castes were involved while they were living at close
quarters in the sanatorium. The food for patients in the general
ward was prepared by a caste Hindu cook. Patients in special wards
were provided a kitchen to cook their own food and were allowed
food from outside. Attendants and visitors of special ward patients
were also permitted in the sanatorium. These special wards were
arranged for the patients after charging Rs. 50 per mensem. There
were no extra charges made for medicine or medical attendance
except surgery. One attendant in addition to the cook was allowed
to accompany each patient but children were not allowed. They
could bring their own bedding and utensils. The stay was not less
than three months to ensure a lasting benefit. The length of stay
differs for some patients according to the nature of cases. Patients
were instructed to obey the directions of the doctor and follow
the timetable of the sanatorium. These were strictly followed and
played an important role in control and discipline mechanisms.
If patients broke rules they were dismissed from the sanatorium.
Functuality for various daily activities as part of the sanitorium life
was enforced and the patient had to adhere to all, which included
medication, daily meals and rest.40

Healing the Mind and Body

In the Union Mission Tuberculosis Sanatorium, Madanapalle,
religion was also important and time for prayers was marked into
the daily schedule of patients. But attending prayers was voluntary
 Health, a Gift of God at Sanatorium 237

for non-Christian patients. The sanatorium started functioning

with a morning service in the hall with an exposition of a portion
of the Bible by members of the medical staff. Sunday services were
conducted by the medical staff and missionary visitors and by the
Indian pastor of the South Indian United Church of Madanapalle.
On Sunday afternoons a class and a prayer in the evenings were
conducted by the patients in the wards. But the attendance at
these meeting was entirely optional.41 Regular morning devotions
and Sunday services were conducted, and occasionally the
government chaplain visited the sanatorium. Grants were given
by the government on condition that ‘the sanatorium shall be
open to patients of all creeds’.42 The Union Mission Tuberculosis
Sanatorium, Madanapalle, declared when it applied for annual
grant that ‘the sanatorium at Madanapalle was and is open to
all castes and creeds without distinction irrespective of their
income’.43 The attendance at all religious meetings and devotions
for non-Christian patients was entirely optional though religious
work was an important programme in the sanatorium activities.
Union Mission Tuberculosis Sanatorium claimed that:
…We do not think it possible to proclaim the Kingdom of God in the
right way, if any kind of pressure or unfair propaganda is made use of.
To take the slightest advantage of people’s need of help for their suffer­
ing to enforce upon them any religious teaching with which they would
otherwise not have cared to come into contact, would be a misuse of the
ministry of healing.44
A Roman Catholic priest was a regular visitor for the patients
belonging to his church. Every Sunday classes were conducted
both in vernacular and English.45 Religious meetings in the eve­
nings were common along with service on Sundays and there
was a strong bellief encouraged about the healing hand of God.
However, the available evidence does not suggest that there was
significant success made in converting patients to Christianity in
the sanatorium. The sanatorium, for many patients, was as reli­
gious as a medical institution inspired by the love of the Lord to
heal and serve.
Some social life was considered as one of the methods of
238 B. Eswara Rao

treatment in the sanatorium. The sanatorium created an atmo­

sphere to divert the attention of patient from the suffering. The
sanatorium was peculiarly different in the treatment it provided
as compared to general hospitals. Diverting the minds of patients
from their suffering and the monotony of a long stay in the sana­
torium was part of the whole treatment. The sanatorium possessed
a small library containing good books, both in the vernacular
and English. Books which sought to psycologically empower the
patients were made available on various subjects, including health.
Patients freely availed this opportunity to read good books and
magazines, both in the vernacular and in English. Books were
donated by the publishers and the generous public. English dai­
lies, such as the Madras Mail, The Hindu, and The Justice, were
distributed free of cost by these presses. The sanatorium also pro­
vided entertainment of various kinds from time to time. Various
activities such as lantern lectures on geographical or educational
subjects, musical evenings, small dramatic performances, games
and sports, and cinema shows were conducted in the santorium.
The Madras and Messers Company, Govardhan and Co., Madras,
distributed general films free of charge to entertain the patients.46
There was also a school for the children of the employees.47
Another feature of the social life was an annual fancy fair through
which money was collected for clothing the children of menial
staff on the occasion of Christmas. Two or three sports meets were
conducted and members of the staff competed in various ways to
the amusement and enjoyment of the patients. On these occasions,
light competitions, which were suitable for the strong patients,
were also conducted.48

Ex-Patients Tuberculosis Colony

A small number of discharged patients were put in a colony. The
idea of forming an ex-tuberculosis patients colony came in 1920
from Union Mission Tuberculosis Sanatorium, Madanapalle. The
patients, after completing their treatment, could not go to their
homes and live because they were socially alienated and excluded
from society with the fear of spreading the disease. Moreover,
 Health, a Gift of God at Sanatorium 239

ex-patients would not be able to earn for their survival by doing

hard work. For such patients the sanatorium could not provide
accommodation for a long time primarily due to two reasons.
One was the sanatorium was unable to bear the cost and another
was that there was also a long waiting list of those wishing to
seek treatment in the sanatorium. Therefore, the Union Mission
Tuberculosis Sanatorium, Madanapalle, recognized the need to
accommodate these patients by providing livelihood activities
for their own sustenance.49 The ex-patients’ tuberculosis colony
was established adjacent to the sanatorium at Panipuram. It was
separated in terms of finance and management from the sanatorium
but it was closely connected with it. The colony was registered
under Act XXI of 1860 and had a governing body of seven, of
whom four had to be members of the sanatorium staff, namely
the medical superintendent, matron, nursing superintendent, and
a senior Indian doctor. The main object of the establishment of
a tuberculosis colony was to help the ex-patients, especially poor
ex-patients of the sanatorium to find means of earning their living,
by assisting them in different occupations suitable to their health,
while under medical supervision and in a favourable environment,
thereby restoring them to be once again useful members of the
society. The colony established on nine and a half acres of land
had some houses, wells and fruit trees. Initially, it carried out its
work through donations without drawing on sanatorium funds.
It began its activities such as silk spinning, weaving, etc., from
1922 to try and become self-supporting. In the latter half of
1929, their activities expanded.50 The colony depended financially
on the earnings of the ex-patients and on private donations.
The occupations carried out were weaving, tailoring, printing,
gardening, poultry and cow-keeping. From time to time, ex-
patients were engaged in other kinds of craft work such as palm-
leaf purse making and paper-making. It also established a general
store in the sanatorium, which sold general merchandize to the
staff and patients. By 1933-4, of the nine men who lived in the
colony, two of them had their families with them. However, the
colonists had to be responsible for their own food; the sanatorium
did not support them but paid a wage, either fixed or by piece rate,
240 B. Eswara Rao

according to the nature of their occupation. Some of the activities

of the colony were self-supporting. Most of the ex-patients were
able to do sufficient work to earn their livelihood and a few had to
be helped either because they were not able to do full work or they
fell sick. One of the objectives of the colony was that ex-patients
living in it should be free from anxiety in case of sickness or a
period of weakness. All the activities and its expansion were made
based on capital expenditure and the expenses of new occupations
were met by donations.51 Toy making and basket-making were also
planned and introduced in 1940.52
Lady Hope visited the sanatorium on 2 December 1940, and
laid the foundation stone of the Lazarus Memorial Block53 in the
ex-patient colony. In 1940, three more patients joined the colony
and of these, two returned to the sanatorium temporarily. Laza­
rus Block was erected with five work rooms, an office and a store
room. During this year, the simple hand-press was replaced with
a treadle press capable of doing all ordinary work including large
cutting missions. Ex-patients had received training in composing,
book binding, etc., which increased the amount of printing work
in the colony. In the colony stores six ex-patients were employed
and this also increased the business considerably during the year.
For instance, the total sale in a year grew from Rs. 31,175 in 1939
to Rs. 47,516 in 1940. This business was carried out in competition
with local traders. The profit from the business not only paid the
staff of the shops but the money was used for expansion of capital.
It was enough but more capital was required for further expansion
of business. The cotton handloom woven clothes sold were about
Rs. 1,840 in the year. This was considered a great achievement.54
The Government Tuberculosis Sanatorium, Tambaram, Madras,
established an ex-patient colony in 1948, which was similar to that
of the Union Mission Tuberculosis Sanatorium.55
To conclude, the functioning of the Union Mission Tuber­
culosis Sanatorium (UMTS), Madanapalle, was entirely different
from earlier missionary medical organizations. This institution
created a culturally inclusive public health message, which was
transmitted in a more sensitive and acceptable way while adopting
socioculturally suitable means and methods for various religious
 Health, a Gift of God at Sanatorium 241

communities. The social and cultural comforts were provided

during the patient’s prolonged stay in the sanatorium. These new
strategies also helped to attract upper castes apart from lower caste
people to receive treatment in the sanatorium. It became one of the
successful sanatoria by transmitting new medical technology and
treatment methods and gained repution in south India. Therefore,
there was a huge demand from patients in the presidency as well as
other regions. As a part of after-care, patients were accommodated
in an ex-patients’ colony. The sanatorium operated in social worlds
where it conducted both medical and non-medical activities in an
isolated place. On the whole, the sanatorium emphasized, on the
one hand, therapeutic measures and various treatment methods
and, on the other, education of the patients. These measures and
practices were also facilitated to form new forms of discipline and
social behaviour of the patients in the sanatorium. More often,
missionary activities were projected as having close association
with Western medicine. The colonial government instructed the
sanatorium to accommodate patients of all religions when it made
provisions of providing financial aid. However, the dominant mode
of religious practice remained Christianity in the sanatorium.

Notes
1. Rosemary Fitzgerald, ‘Clinical Christianity: The Emergence of
Medical Works as a Missionary Strategy in Colonial India, 1800­
1914’, in Biswomypati and Mark Harrison (eds.), Health, Medicine
and Empire, Perspective on Colonial India, Orient Longman,
Hyderabad, 2001, pp. 88-137; Rajasekhar Basu, ‘Medical Missionaries
at Work: The Canadian Baptist Missionaries in the Telugu Country,
1870-1952’, in Deepak Kumar (ed.), Disease and Medicine in India:
A Historical Overview, Tulika Books, New Delhi, 2001, pp. 180-97;
Basu, ‘Healing the Sick and Destitute: Protestant Missionaries and
Medical Missions in 19th and 20th Century’, in Deepak Kumar and
Rajasekhar Basu (eds.), Medical Encounters in British India, Oxford
University Press, New Delhi, 2013, pp. 187-207.
2. David Hardiman, Missionaries and Their Medicine: A Christian
Modernity for Tribal India, Manchester and New York, Manchester
University Press, 2008.
242 B. Eswara Rao

3. V.R. Muraleedharan, ‘Development of Health Care System in the

Madras Presidency, A.D. 1919-1939’, Unpublished PhD thesis,
Department of Humanities and Social Sciences, IIT Madras,
November 1987, see chapter 2.
4. Mrudula Ramanna, ‘Indian Attitudes Towards Western Medicine:
Bombay, A Case Study’, Indian Historical Review, vol. XXVII, no. 1,
January 2001, pp. 44-55.
5. This sanatorium was started by the Arcot Mission at Punganur in
1909 in a temporary building. After the union of seven missions,
this sanatorium was transferred to Madanapalle in 1911. G.O. 504
(Public), dated 17 May 1911, and G.O. 966 (Public), dated 2 August
1913 (TNA).
6. The Madras Mail (an English daily from Madras), dated 28 May
1910.
7. Ibid.
8. G.O. 713 (Public), dated 11 August 1910 (TNA).
9. G.O. 1017 (Public), dated November 1910 (TNA).
10. G.O.125 (Public), dated 6 February 1911 (TNA).
11. Initially, the sanatorium was managed by the American Arcot
Mission. The government made its grant through district boards of
Cuddapah. The district board was favourable and satisfied with the
functioning of the sanatorium. G.O. 504 (Public), dated 17 May 1911
(TNA).
12. Annual Report of Union Mission Tuberculosis Sanatorium (hereafter
UMTS), Madanapalle, 1913-14, p. 1.
13. G.O. 966 (Public), 2 August 1913 (TNA).
14. Annual Report of UMTS, 1913-14, p. 10.
15. G.O. 193 (Public), dated 4 February 1916 (TNA).
16. Annual Report of UMTS, 1925-6, p. 7.
17. In July 1918 a branch of the post office was opened in the sanatorium,
but still a great part of the mail went to Madanapalle, and only on
the following day was sent out to ‘The Fourth Mile’ as it was then
often called. Patients frequently arrived before letters or telegrams
were received and were often very tired before a way of getting them
from the station was arranged for. Therefore, it became necessary
for the sanatorium to have its own postal name. Out of several
suggestions a small committee chose Arogyavaram, a name in line
with other place names in south India, and composed of the roots
of two Sanskrit words, arogya, means ‘health’ and varam means ‘a
gift of God’. Golden Jubilee Souvenir (1915-1965), Union Mission TB
Sanatorium, Madanapalle, 1965, p. 8.
 Health, a Gift of God at Sanatorium 243

18. Ibid, p. 23.

19. Annual Report of UMTS, 1921-2, p. 19.
20. Annul Report of UMTS, 1922-3, p. 6.
21. Annual Report of UMTS, 1925-6.
22. Annual Report of UMTS, 1922-3, p. 11.
23. Of the total annual expenditure of the sanatorium about 20-5 per
cent was spent on food. See Annual Report of UMTS, 1921.
24. Golden Jubilee Souvenir (1915-1965), op cit.
25. Annual Report of UMTS 1929-30, p. 19.
26. Ibid., p. 21.
27. Ibid.
28. Ibid, p. 22.
29. Ibid.
30. Annual Report of UMTS, 1922-3, p. 15.
31. Annual report of UMTS-1925-6.
32. Annual Report of UMTS, 1920-50.
33. Annual Report of UMTS, 1912-34.
34. G.O. 966 (Public), dated 2 August 1913 (TNA).
35. G.O. 1213 (Public), dated 23 September 1914 (TNA).
36. G.O. 193 (Public), dated 2 February 1916 (TNA).
37. G.O. 989 (PH), dated 14 June 1926
38. G.O. 2047 LSG (PH), dated 22 August 1930 (TNA).
39. Ibid.
40. Annual Report of UMTS, 1922-3, p. 15.
41. Annual Report of UMTS, 1919-20, p. 9.
42. G.O. 504 (Public), 17 May 1911 (TNA).
43. G.O. 24 Local and Municipal (Medical), 18 January 1917 (TNA).
44. Annual Report of UMTS-1934-5, p. 35.
45. Annual Report of UMTS, 1925-6, p. 19.
46. Annual Report of UMTS-1934-5, p. 35.
47. Annual Report of UMTS, 1921-2, p. 18.
48. Annual Report of UMTS, 1925-6, p. 20
49. Annual Report of UMTS, 1921-2, p. 18.
50. Annual Report of UMTS, 1933-4, p. 36.
51. Annual Report of UMTS, 1933-4., pp. 36-7.
52. Annual Report of UMTS, 1940-1, p. 32.
53. This block was in the memory of T. Lazarus, Retired Inspector of
Schools, who made a donation of Rs. 10,000 for Tuberculosis Colony.
54. Annual Report of UMTS, 1939-40, p. 35.
55. G.O. 2864 (Public Health), dated 20 August.
 CHAPTER 11

Coloniser or Anthropologist?
Locating the Identity of the Christian Missionary
vis-à-vis the Tea Garden ‘Coolie’ in Colonial Assam

ANISHA BORDOLOI

Colonialism was made possible, and then sustained and strengthened, as

much by cultural technologies of rule as it was by the more obvious and
brutal modes of conquest that first established power on foreign shores.
Nicholas B. Dirks1-2

Introduction
A connection between the idea of civilisation and culture is an
important factor in determining the identity of the coloniser
and the colonised. Notions such as ‘cultured’, ‘civilised’, ‘cultural/
civilisational progress’ and ‘cultural/civilisational backwardness’
were very often used and referred to as part of an intellectual
understanding of different human societies by those in authority
of knowledge production. ‘Culture’ represented a context in
which the phenomenon of power could be understood by setting
the ‘powerless’ within the framework of their own virtues as the
‘powerless’ according to terms defined by the ‘powerful’.
Interests of the tea industry compelled the colonial govern­
ment to unearth features that homogenised different populations
from different regions leading to deeper political ramifications
other than the economic ones. It contributed in creating a wider
and stronger hold of the empire over land and people located at
a distance from each other with Assam being connected with
the empire more firmly and its easy access with a difficult geog­
raphy no longer difficult to achieve. Studies associated with race
246 Anisha Bordoloi

science such as anthropology provided a rational basis and eased

the pursuit of such colonial interests. Through an exploration of
the origins, customs, religious systems and language of the sub­
jects, the coloniser assumed the dual role of an anthropologist too.
As the civilising mission formed an integral part of colonialism,
it not just signified the transformation of a colony from a stage
of primitivity and barbarism to one of modernity, progress and
development in relation to economy and society. This transforma­
tion attained an unofficial character too in aiming to change the
nature of economy and society, especially, if colonialism could find
deeper roots in the lives of the people through a moral fabric pro­
vided by religion, in this case, Christianity.
Although it is convenient to locate many works associated
with Christian missionaries and the impact of their philanthropic
activities on the society and culture of Assam and other states of
the north-east, there are very few works that examine the relation
between the missionaries and the tea plantation labour commu­
nity in Assam. Therefore, a parallel can be drawn between the
peripheral location of the tea labour community in relation to the
larger society in the region which is reflected even in the number
of historical literature produced on the subject. The subject finds
mention in passing as part of a larger literature produced on Chris­
tian missionaries in Assam and the north east in general.3 Most
works have focused on various aspects of the impact of mission­
ary work on the culture and life of the natives, the way the latter
were represented in missionary literature, the association of the
Christian Mission with the greater colonialist project and linked
with it the efforts to establish the superiority of Christianity over
Hinduism, the way churches sprang up in different places and con­
versions took place, their contribution towards the development of
English education, starting of schools and efforts in developing a
vernacular language such as Assamese.
What do these endeavours speak about the identity of the
Christian missionaries themselves? Given that there are many lay­
ers and facets of their approach to native society, what does this
kind of multiplicity of motives, narratives or the production of
knowledge entail? The fact that the tea plantations of Assam pro­
vided a suitable ground for carrying out Mission work among the
 Coloniser or Anthropologist? 247

newly recruited labour population, what remains to be addressed

is the way Christianity perpetuated the stereotype of the ‘coolie’4
in the literature of the Mission. The way a large section of a subject
population was easily accessible to the Christian missionaries, the
way missionaries worked amidst the tea garden labour population
treating the tea garden as a potential field of work, preaching the
gospel among workers, producing knowledge about them in their
literature from a position of economic, political and psychological
superiority, one is compelled to draw parallels between the posi­
tion of a Christian missionary and that of an anthropologist. More
so because missionaries were central to the emergence and profes­
sionalisation of ethnology and anthropology in Britain and in the
way Britain envisaged its role in the colonies. Missionary educa­
tion was a crucial factor in the emergence of secularising strategies
in colonial India.5
Keeping this possibility in mind that men and women of faith
who carried out religious and welfare activities among the native
communities could very often function like an anthropologist,
this article attempts to explore how politics of power can function
through multiple identities apart from the one that seems more
visible. It is to be seen how the state operates through multiple
domains of power that function along inter-personal lines in an
unofficial manner.
The first section of the article throws light upon how the
search for the ‘heathen’ or the ‘truly pagan’ turned the tea garden
‘coolie’ as a suitable subject to carry out the mission. The second
part explores the anthropological treatment of the tea garden as a
‘field’ with a focus on the frequent ‘tours’, ‘explorations’ and ‘visits’
to the field. This is followed by an examination of how the Chris­
tian missionary’s role as an anthropologist gets camouflaged into
that of a coloniser as well. The article ends with an examination
of a primary text such as Tea Garden Coolies in Assam: A Letter
by the Hon’ble J. Buckingham, C.I.E., replying to a communication
on the subject which appeared in The Indian Churchman. With
Introduction and an answer by the Rev. Charles Dowding set in
the year 1894 that further entrenched the image of the Christian
missionary-cum-anthropologist-cum-coloniser and the tea gar­
den ‘coolie’ through the medium of print culture.
248 Anisha Bordoloi

Mission Work and the ‘Heathen’ Coolie

Missionaries like Nathan Brown saw a tremendous potential
to nurture the growth of mission activities in Assam, thus,
compelling him to consider Assam as ‘one of the most important
and encouraging fields in all the east’6 with a promising supply of
the ‘heathen’ – a requisite to create believers. The presence of the
‘heathen’ was identified by their qualities of ‘primitivity’, ‘barbarism’,
‘lack of civilisation and religion’ which created a challenging task
for missionaries to realise the worth of the mission if they were
successful in civilising the ‘wild’, familiarising themselves with the
mysterious or knowing the unknown. The ‘heathen’ as primitive,
barbaric and uncivilised was synonymous to the identity of the
tribe in colonial European racial vocabulary.
In missionary opinion, the solution to ‘heathenism’ or
‘primitivity’ lay in the idea of service to Christ which appeared
synonymous to the idea of service to the colonisers. This kind of
pre-occupation with the ‘primitive’ or the ‘heathen’ enabled the
Christian missionary to cope with one’s sense of alienation from
his/her own culture as well as advance oneself professionally.
The very identity of a ‘primitive’ which is romanticised in several
missionary writings, is an identity which was unacceptable in
the missionary’s own culture, thus becoming precisely the target
of spreading the missionary zeal.7 Therefore, what was admired
in a state of primitivity was detested in a world of civilisation.8
With missionary efforts towards improvement of agriculture and
industry, the planting of tea received a religious/moral sanction as
a ‘noble’ venture started by Europeans as benefitting a colonised
population given that it would contribute in improving their eco­
nomic conditions by providing employment to the colonised.
As availability of a large number of the ‘heathens’ became an
important factor for the success of mission work, the failure to
influence the minds of Hindus and Muslims, turned the Christian
missionaries to pay attention to races with the absence of caste or
religion. Hence, when the Court of Directors in 1831 suggested
the government to follow a policy of religious neutrality among
natives,9 in so far as the tribes were believed to be ‘ungodly’ or
 Coloniser or Anthropologist? 249

‘without religion’, missionary interference among the tribal

population of the land was not inconsistent with such a policy of
‘religious neutrality’. Part of the missionary interest in the tribals
of north-east India also needs to be traced to Christianity’s own
pagan origins. The tribal population and their ethos of egalitari­
anism provided sites for missionaries to romanticise the past of
Christianity, all the more so, when Sebastian Karotemprel, a man
of the faith was driven to call Christianity as a ‘truly tribal reli­
gion’.10
Populations which exuded tremendous potential for the devel­
opment of evangelism and among whom it was the most successful
in the plain areas were the tribes working in tea gardens, especially,
Oraons, Mundas, Kharias, Kols and Santhals. These included both
the tribals that settled in the villages near the tea gardens as well
as those who lived and laboured within the premises of the tea
plantations. For Christianity to avoid being portrayed as being
imposed upon natives but embraced by natives out of their own
will, it was important to target those sections of the population
who exuded a sense of vulnerability, who faced exploitation by
colonial authorities and experienced a loss of dignity and dis­
crimination at the hands of upper caste local Hindu population of
the region. Immense potential to spread the faith was thus found
among the tribes in tea gardens of Assam giving the Christian mis­
sion a cause, a reason to prevail in the region. Some among these
tribes were already converted Christians before embarking on
their journey to Assam. In missionary parlance, calling the com­
munity of tribals working in tea gardens ‘ignorant but sincere’,11
implied the ignorance of the community as essential precisely for
the creation of a sincere population. A population, given their
ignorance of the inherent meaning of Christianity, served it with
loyalty. The attribute of ignorance that determined the position
of the community as subjects, readily accepting the filtration of
European Christian ideals, ran as a parallel theme with a similar
position of the community within the framework of a wage-labour
regime in the colonial tea plantations. The English government
commenced the cultivation of the indigenous tea in Jaipur in the
year 1835 and in 1836, the year of the founding of the Mission, the
250 Anisha Bordoloi

first pound of Assam tea was sent to London.12 Nathan Brown was
hopeful that growing wild in abundance in Sadiya and its vicin­
ity, there were great prospects if proper cultivation of tea could be
ensued.13 The frequent visits of missionaries in the tribal villages
and tea gardens indicate these spaces as strongholds of mission
presence. In the year 1893, out of a total Church membership of
354 in the Sibsagar district, only 38 were Assamese while the rest
comprised of tribals from tea gardens.14 The success of mission­
ary zeal among a large section of tribal population in a particular
district implied success of the same for the entire district with tea
planters too contributing towards its accomplishment by building
churches such as those at Amguri and Teok.15Although it is dif­
ficult to trace the first tea garden where missionary work actually
began, it is possible to state that the Kols were the first community
of tea plantation workers to be baptised in 1871 by the American
Baptist Missionary E.W. Clark in the Sibsagar ‘field’.16 The Kols were
imported labourers from Chota Nagpur in central India to work in
tea graden. The community of Kols from Mackeypur and Dolbo­
gan tea gardens of Sibsagar district could be said to have been the
first to experience the impact of missionary work, for whom the
main church branches consisted those located in Tiok, Bebejia and
Mokrung. After Clark, A.K. Gurney took up the responsibility of
conversion in the three places mentioned above. W.E. Witter was
another significant Christian missionary who carried out mission
work among the tea garden population in the Sibsagar district of
Assam.17 In 1889, C.E. Petrick became a regularly appointed mis­
sionary to work in Sibsagar.18
Christianity can be linked to colonialism in so far as the veil
of humanity was used to justify and conceal inhuman motives and
treatment of the colonised such as the workers in tea plantations
of Assam. It was the success among the tribals in these plantations
that enforced the significance of Sibsagar as a possible place for
the missionaries and preaching was expanded further from the
tea gardens and villages to the bazaars. In the opinion of colonial
officials like Col. Hopkinson, the Commissioner of Assam, con­
versions were necessary to turn Assam into a land of settlement
and tea gardens.19
 Coloniser or Anthropologist? 251

Although efforts at affiliating the tribals in tea gardens with

higher education by missionaries is highly questionable, education
at the primary level was confined mostly to the teaching of the
gospel and spreading Christian ideology. Spread of Christianity
through education helped in building an intimate connection with
the tribal worker who was otherwise placed at a distance in the
lower rungs of the civilisational ladder. Begun in 1927, the Don
Bosco school-cum-boarding set up by Catholic missionaries in the
centres of Guwahati, Dibrugarh and Tezpur played an important
role in spreading evangelisation among the Adivasis/the tea gar­
den labour community in Assam.20
The tribals in tea gardens provided a safe gamble among
whom missionaries were able to establish a stronghold given the
loss of native roots from their original homeland as a result of
displacement. Establishing a stronghold among this group helped
missionaries to spread their influence outside this group and
preach among those who were placed at the lower rungs of the
Hindu social ladder such as fishermen, farmers and traders.
After carrying out work among the Mundari speakers in
Sibsagar, Lakhimpur too attracted the attention of missionaries
as a prospective field with numerous tea gardens in the vicinity.
Lakhimpur not only provided opportunities among the tea gar­
den labour community but also for the mission to be carried out
among the Garos, Daflas and Miris, inhabitants of the nearby hills.
Though communication and access to the hills was a major hin­
drance, most tea gardens, were located conveniently in the plains
near major towns and well-connected with roads, waterways
and railways. Many from the tribals in tea gardens were already
converted Christians before they arrived in the gardens. Being dis­
placed from their roots in their original homeland, weak links of
identity with their native land exposed these people as easy targets
for evangelism.

The Tea Garden as a ‘Field’

Tea gardens were constantly referred to as the ‘field’. The extensive
‘touring’ and ‘exploration’ of the districts by missionaries like
252 Anisha Bordoloi

Nathan Brown, Oliver Cutter, O.L. Swanson, C.E. Petrick,

Joseph Paul and John Firth provides one with a glimpse of the
anthropological role of the missionaries. The frequency of ‘tours’,
‘explorations’ and ‘visits’ was possible once the plantation could
be created as a ‘field’. Tours and explorations formed an important
aspect of the spread of Christianity and selecting converts. Their
tours and explorations involved a process of selecting those
persons who were easy and ‘suitable’ for baptism. In the bargain,
the people who were a hindrance to the cause of Western religion
and ideology were excluded from the religious propaganda of the
missionaries, as in the case of high caste Hindus and Muslims.
On most ‘tours’, missionaries visited villages, markets
(bazaars), road-side gatherings, gardens and coolie lines to name
few spaces of daily activity of the selected groups of colonised
subjects. The penetration of missionaries into such spaces of daily
activity turned these spaces into areas of Christian conquest as
they preached, sold books, distributed tracts, answered enquiries
and baptised a few.21 The missionary-cum-anthropologist hence,
gained ‘unlimited right of access to data’.22 A subject-ruler dichot­
omy was realised in populated public spaces such as these through
encounters, resistance and acceptance ultimately putting to test the
success of the Christian ideology when natives reacted positively
to it. Like an anthropologist, the ‘indigenous people were read­
ily accessible to’ the missionary too. ‘Preferential treatment’ was
received by him/her ‘not only from other Europeans in position of
political power, but also from the subject people themselves’ as he/
she ‘was a member of the group in power’.23 Peter Pels compares
the study of Christian missionaries as a major area of innovation
in the anthropology of colonialism. He calls them ‘colonialist
indoctrinators’ with ‘harmless curiosity’.24
If preaching through tours, explorations and visits connected
the different worlds of the missionary and the potential convert
then a relation between the two contrasting worlds was built also
through language. Urged by the necessity to communicate the
gospel, missionaries probably did more substantial recording of
unknown languages than all anthropologists taken together. As
all colonial relationships required a language of command, very
 Coloniser or Anthropologist? 253

often, its dictionary and grammar were provided by missionaries.25

C.E. Petrick notes that the ‘aborigines’ from West Bengal, Chota
Nagpur and central India form ‘the best object for mission work’
clearly indicating that for the best experience of mission work
among the ‘aborigines’, it became very important to develop the
language widely spoken by the ‘aborigines’.26 Given that a major­
ity of the tea garden immigrants were acquainted with the Hindi
language, especially, a large number of Kols, Mundas and Oraons,
provisions were made at the Assam Mission Conference for exam­
inations to be conducted in Hindi as well, apart from Assamese
and dialects like Garo, Mikir, Ao Naga, Angami Naga, Tangkhul
Naga and Rabha.27 Members of the Conference deemed it the
duty of the missionaries to outline a course of language study in
the prescribed vernacular and to conduct the language examina­
tions in accordance with the rules of the Examination Committee
of the American Baptist Mission Union. The pastors of churches
which had a large population of tea garden coolies such as Kols
and Mundas, preached in Hindi.28Mundari too is said to have been
the vernacular of most of the churchgoers and it was the language
in which they conducted most of their meetings.29 In fact, the
New Testament was being sold at five annas per copy in Hindi and
Mundari too apart from the above-mentioned languages.30
Due to the tremendous success of American Baptist mission­
aries among the tea garden coolies, their mission was termed as the
‘Cooly Mission’.31 A.K. Gurney points out that from 1876 onwards,
the Mission was extremely dependent on the Kols, who were
imported tea garden labourers from Chota Nagpur as they were
considered ‘a race without caste’.32 Gurney wrote several letters and
reports to the Missionary Magazine detailing the particulars of his
work among the Kols, the Assamese and station work in general.33
Kols and Santhals formed a large number of ‘races without caste’
(around 10,000) who were brought to the gardens. Sibsagar being
a large tea district of Assam, the Mission received more of these
converts than any other. The most important churches that consti­
tuted a large number of Kols were at Teok, Bebejia and Mokrung.
In 1878, Henry Osborne proposed the sustenance of two native
preachers in his tea gardens at Dibrugarh.34
254 Anisha Bordoloi

A sense of permanency to the field was attached under the

religious fold through frequency of tours and visits. For example,
out of twenty-five people who were baptised in the North Lakhim­
pur district during the year 1895-6, twenty were from the Joyhing
tea garden.35 Preaching and baptism eventually carved the way for
securing land and compound in the station and clearing trees in
the forest for building posts for a bungalow. The ‘field visits’, thus,
not only led to a transformation in the identity of the population
but also to a transformation of the landscape. In the words of
Firth, touring by missionaries revealed to them ‘a region of dark­
ness’ in fields such as North Lakhimpur which had a large number
of tea garden coolies.36 The revelation of ‘darkness’ of a prospective
field of work not only coolified the identity of a population with
that of the field but also essentialised missionary work through a
constructed image of ‘darkness’ both in physical/racial terms as
well as metaphorically revealing ignorance and lack of knowledge.
Firth further adds that benevolence to the ‘dark’, ‘heathen’ coolie
lay in his/her conversion into a subject by proving ‘faithful’ to the
way he/she would be shaped as a ‘coolie’ under the mission.37 The
success of the mission was determined by the number of heathens
they could baptise indicating the worthiness of a tour which could
successfully bring the intended subject within the realm of an
intended politico-religious experience.
So much stress was laid on visits and tours to the heathen sta­
tions that if coolies did not turn up at the verandah of the mission
bungalow, the visits and services were held in their villages, in one
of their houses. Even though it can be cited as a matter of conve­
nience, it signifies the essence of the missionary ‘field’ as a space of
deep intrusion even into the coolie homes to carry out ‘fieldwork’.
The deep intrusion of the ‘field’ also gets reflected in the details
produced in numbers about the ‘field’. The detailed number of
coolies who spoke Hindi, the number that resided in each district,
the number of tea gardens in each district, the number of different
tribal groups that constituted the ‘tea coolies’, how many of them
were already converted Christians and who were not – created a
vastness of the ‘field’ reflecting the potential, a precision in which
 Coloniser or Anthropologist? 255

data was collected and the incredible access of the missionaries to

organised information generated by the state through the instru­
ment of the census – an important combination of knowledge
creation and domination.
Association with stations such as Teok, Bebejia, Madhopur,
Mackeypur, etc., were defined in terms of ‘trips’, ‘visits’ or ‘tours’ to
the fields and comparisons were made among them in terms of any
interesting observations during the visits, trips or tours.38 Trips,
visits and tours to the mission field were not bereft of methodogy
and planning as outlined in the chapter titled ‘Methods of Mission
Work’ by M.C. Mason in a mission report.39 The anthropological
way is laid bare by Mason through tests and experiments in the
field. According to him:
Mission methods are human adaptations … to special conditions. Any
method, therefore, must be measured, first by its harmony with the divine
principles and second by its adaptation to its special conditions, not for­
getting the characteristics and abilities of the man who is to execute the
work. A method or man successful in one field might be quite the reverse
in another. The question for us therefore, is what are our best methods?40

A systematic outline was laid under the terms ‘Guiding Prin­

ciples’ that combined religious preaching with a methodology
beginning with preaching, persuasion, charities, creating signs
for confirmation, teaching and building character.41 In the case of
‘Application of Principles’, a united effort was to be followed by
division of labour and knowing one’s field, where emphasis was
laid on acquainting oneself with the field, knowing the habits, cus­
toms, beliefs, prejudices and labours of the people.42 Travel was
considered a beneficial change for the missionary from office and
classroom work.43 Missionary work, according to Mason is best
realized when ‘the roaming preacher does a good work clearing
the way, surveying the field and in selecting sites’.44 Work that was
carried out by missionaries among different populations, villages
or tea gardens, was reported in detail in the form of articles that
were published in journals and magazines such as Report on the
Assam Mission, Orunodoi, Baptist Missionary Magazine and
256 Anisha Bordoloi

Missionary Conference Reports in the nineteenth and early twen­

tieth centuries. The data was organised and compartmentalised
after a field visit, similarly, one of the final tasks for the missionar­
ies was to organise ‘the Assamese and Kols’ into churches.45

Interlinking the Missionary – Anthropologist and

the Colonialist
One of the main reasons for missionary interest among the tribals
working in tea gardens of Assam was determined by their own
interests in tea gardens. Either some like Reverend Charles Dowding
were heavy investors in tea plantations or some like Reverend
Henry Osborne were themselves owners of tea gardens. In many
instances, where missionaries embarked on preaching, they ended
up securing land for themselves and building bungalows to preach.
Apart from preaching, the vast availability of the ‘primitive’/the
‘uncivilised’ in the form of the newly arrived numerous tribals
working in tea gardens in Assam provided prospects of improving
their career and personal mobility in the social ladder too. Working
among ‘the wild’, ‘the primitive’ and ‘the uncivilised’ was meant
to expose the masculine, paternal and courageous attributes of
missionaries, thus placing missionaries in the same platform as the
colonisers. Assam opened up opportunities for those for whom all
avenues of self-improvement seemed bleak back home. Concern
about their own future was very much reflected in the words of
missionaries like O.L. Swanson,
. . . I became more and more concerned about my future . . . Pastor Peter­
son and other friends encouraged me to consider the possibility of full
time Christian service. . . . I was not educated, I had no talents, I was
successful in business and must not leave it, and when all else failed the
tempter, I was confronted with the compromise of doing what I could in
the church, but leave the idea of the gospel ministry alone. But the Holy
Spirit did not cease to remind me of the fact that I must do the will of
God.46

Invoking ‘the will of God’ justified the evangelical work under­

taken by missionaries like Swanson as a natural phenomenon
 Coloniser or Anthropologist? 257

with those like Swanson being naturally the ‘chosen one’ to spread
the message of the Lord. There was a new found glory, pride and
dignity at being referred to as the ‘sahib’47 by the locals. Preach­
ing elevated their stature as a few individuals like them were now
responsible for the life and future of a large number of subject
population. Pride was derived at being treated like the ‘absolute
monarch’.48 Personal convenience was one of the important factors
while pursuing evangelism in the colony with a good communica­
tion system as mentioned earlier. Their preference for areas which
were well administered by the British determined their choice of
labourers in tea gardens as preferred subjects who could be found
in and around ‘semi-civilised’49 territories of the tea garden.
Mission work among the tea garden labour community
received mixed reactions from planters. While some welcomed the
spread of Christianity among the coolie population in the gardens,
others expressed vehement opposition to the same. In plantations
where Christian doctrines were allowed to be preached, mission­
aries believed that Christianity worked in favour of the planters
as it contributed towards curbing labour unrest or any kind of
opposition to the established hierarchy in the plantations. Chris­
tian coolies ‘took no active part in . . . demonstrations, but were
loyal to their employers and reasonable in their demands.’50 The
rigid time-work-discipline routine which workers were forced to
follow, not just played to the advantage of the smooth workings of
the plantation but also in the words of a Christian missionary, ‘. . .
once accustomed to a strict discipline the worker (found) it easier
to adapt himself to the demands of his Christian faith and conduct
too.’51
Just like engagement of the anthropologists with fieldwork was
derived ‘… from the subjugation by his own government of the
people he was studying…’,52 a Christian missionary’s engagement
with the natives was derived from a similar position of subjugation
of the latter by the government in power that he was a part of.
A validity was derived from a shared position of power that also
enabled missionary activities. Preaching among the tribals in the
tea gardens, to prevent their minds from plotting evil against those
who oppressed them was considered worthwhile. Christianity
258 Anisha Bordoloi

provided a channel to vent their anger, frustration, dissatisfaction

or the breeding of revolutionary thought against the planter-col­
oniser nexus. Although Christianity helped these people to build
their lives around the cult of faith, regain a lost sense of self-respect
and find solace in their service to Christ, it did not really prevent
them from the evils of colonialism. An oppressive structure pro­
vided significance to ‘humanitarian’ projects and the survival of
the latter was very much dependent on the former. No matter how
great a Christian missionary’s aversion to the colonial system, just
like an anthropologist, he too was unable to function outside its
realm. It was not easy for him/her to remain in a colony without
participating in the power and privileges of the dominant group.53
Religion, thus, acted as an important agent in the production
of loyal subjects to colonial capitalist imperatives. ‘Peace’, there­
fore, was believed to prevail in the colony if all the ‘heathen’ were
Christianised – peace as a necessity clearly from the colonial point
of view.
In some cases, missionaries contributed towards organising
the tea garden labourers into communities of tribes, districts of
origin and gathering general information regarding their life in
Assam in order to prevent labourers from escaping the garden
premises into the vast wild expanse of Assam under the veil of
extending them ‘pastoral care’. Missionaries, thus, helped planters
manage their labour force better, prevent them from intermin­
gling with locals outside the premises of the garden and maintain
the essence of the colonially created plantation as a ‘garden’, as a
civilised territory and a paradise. For such a purpose, Fr. Carbery
in a compilation titled Missionary work among the Tea Garden
Coolies and Settlers in Assam, detailed information concerning
emigration, tea plantations, tribal colonies in tea gardens Assam,
their living and working conditions.54 Others like Fr. Rudolf Fon­
taine, brought together scattered numbers of tea garden workers
and arranged them in small settlements in the vicinity of the tea
gardens.55 These settlements formed a prelude to villages inhab­
ited by tribals in tea gardens which also ensured a steady supply
of labour to the planters. Whether it was the hill population who
were prevented from intermingling with the plain population or
 Coloniser or Anthropologist? 259

the tribals in the gardens prevented from being ‘lost’ in the vast
Assam plains, an important link in all this can be traced to the
interests of the tea industry. The protection of the tea industry was
a vital factor in determining colonial and evangelical policies in
dealing with a varied population in the north-east for maintaining
peace, law and order for a smooth functioning of the former.

Dowding’s Letters
If Christianity in the north-east helped to cater to the interests of
the fertile agricultural plain tracts and particularly, the sustenance
of the tea industry, an examination of a primary text such as Tea
Garden Coolies in Assam: A Letter by the Hon’ble J. Buckingham,
C.I.E., replying to a communication on the Subject which appeared
in ‘The Indian Churchman’. With Introduction and an answer by
the Rev. Charles Dowding set in the year 1894, would help in a
deeper understanding of the perception of the missionaries’ about
the colonial functioning of tea plantations and treatment of the
workers in Assam.
The significance of the text lies in the fact that it is a lengthy
tract containing back-and-forth correspondence between a num­
ber of men-of-opinion ranging from government officials like J.
Buckingham, planters, civil surgeons and members of the clergy
such as Rev. Charles Dowding. The newspaper that provided the
refurbishment of their opinions was The Indian Churchman. This
text has been chosen for review in order to get an insight into the
views of individuals like Charles Dowding, a Christian mission­
ary, who was outside the confines of the territorial space of the tea
‘garden’ while regarding the idea of the tea garden and those who
worked there.
One can quote Satadru Sen,
For an imperial state, a frontier – i.e., a politically empty or exempted
space – has a certain ideological value: it facilitates various kinds of
escape, experimentation, differentiation and fantasy [emphasis in italics
are mine]…a realm beyond the nation and yet located within its claimed
boundaries.56
260 Anisha Bordoloi

The tea garden within this ‘frontier’ had to be compatible with

the notion of empire where the untamed are tamed for the benefits
of empire and the territory of the tea garden turned into a museum
for an exhibition of the ‘exotic’ and the ‘wild’ quite similar to M.V.
Portman’s attempts at trying to reduce the Jarawas in the Anda­
mans to the status of animals in a forest reserve in the 1890s57 thus
creating a group of people who represented the inverse ratio of
the modern,58 making them attractive enough to populate a land­
scape (Assam) similar to their image – ‘jungly’ and ‘primitive’. The
idea surrounding the ‘primitive’, the ‘jungly’, the ‘wild east’ in the
north-eastern region of the sub-continent just got intensified in
the confines of the colonial tea garden especially when the ‘primi­
tive’ was placed in the same territorial space as the ‘progressive’
and the ‘modern’.59
The well-being of the coolie as a crucial subject of back and
forth correspondence between Charles Dowding, a Christian
missionary and various other men of opinion seemed more like a
means of establishing their own positions of reason and power by
choosing an object of unreason – the tea garden coolie. He/she has
been cited as an object of unreason/irrationality because the coolie
as in this text, was known by the contractor who supplied him/
her, the planter who ruled over him/her, the Christian mission­
ary and the various correspondents who discussed over him/her,
the garden that he/she lived in and the region that he/she hailed
from but there is no information coming from the coolie himself/
herself. Thus, the identity of each of the above is entrenched upon
a body provided by the coolie disallowing the coolie to exist on
one’s own right. He/she was perhaps assumed not to possess the
freedom and the reasoning/thinking potential to identify himself/
herself but was identified by others who recognized ‘the coolie’.
This very capacity to think and be able to identify the ‘self ’ over
the ‘other’ prepared the imperialists as distinctly different from
indigenous society.
While the torchbearers of empire were debating amongst them­
selves, there was no space left for the native/indigenous response
with the entire series of correspondence compiled primarily for
British readership. A crucial role was played by print culture, for
 Coloniser or Anthropologist? 261

example, newspapers like The Indian Churchman which gave voice

to the opinions of those in authority and in making authority be
heard. This equalled a written stamp on the non-malleability on
the position of those who wished to be heard because to be heard
also meant an acknowledgment and legitimisation of the existence
of the dominant and the influential through writing about them.
Without a dismissal, ‘experts’ like Dowding might have sought a
privileged location among the natives from a perspective of the
metropole, the civilised and the centre which makes it pertinent
to think about the history of the coolie in the modern state where
he/she is placed in a geographical location far from the metropole
and the centre.
The significance of state sponsored newspapers like The Indian
Churchman can also be gauged from the fact that they enabled a
colonial, ‘white’ journey into the realm of the ‘dark’, the unknown
and the exotic. Prevalence of sheer anonymity of knowledge about
themselves:
I saw a court Babu recently trying to find out by question from some
score or more of people, where their homes were, that they might know
where they were to be sent. They were asked what was the name of the
Railway Station nearest their home. ‘who knows!’ some replied. ‘How far
is it from the Railway Station to your home?’ ‘Who knows – ten kos’.
‘How many days to do that Journey? – ‘eight days or six days.…’60

made memory look blurred and uncertain, often leading to an

erasure of knowledge about oneself and therefore relegating
such individuals to the thin margin between remembering and
forgetting. Such blurring of memory as evidence from a text
from the colonial era such as this can be seen as an attempt to
deprive the migrant labouring community of a sense of history,
to ‘know’ about themselves and what better way to show such
fading of memory when it comes from the coolies themselves as
if to legitimise a ‘truth’ by Dowding by adhering to his European
Enlightenment roots of proving the ‘truth’ through evidence
provided by the coolies themselves.
The real motive could have possibly been to establish the fact
that the superiority of the European body with knowledge in its
262 Anisha Bordoloi

possession can best understand a native body as though the very

act of ‘thinking’ is completely a domain of the whites. Dowding
himself says, ‘I am myself, a small shareholder in a very large tea
concern. This greatly quickens […] my interest in the subject’.61
One is left to wonder whether Dowding would be really con­
cerned with the death rates of the coolies if he did not possess any
shares in the industry. Being a shareholder meant that he partici­
pated equally in the entrenchment of the empire and his concern
over the death rates was to probably open the eyes of the colonists
to the fact that increase in death rates also meant a defeat in the
logic of empire as it showed nothing but a reduction in the number
of subjects.
By throwing light on the motives of Christian missionaries like
Dowding who took interest in native matters, one thing seems clear
that Dowding does not speak against colonisation anywhere in the
text. He seems concerned only over the death rates. Dowding’s
references to the facts produced by the Sanitary Commisioner of
Assam and the Chief Commissioner – both government officials,
underlined the necessity to substantiate the arguments put forward
by him.62 Similar examples can be cited from other regions such as
Chota Nagpur where Christian missionaries like Father Constant
Lievens, who, although he sided with the tribals in helping them
fight court cases against their oppressors, was very careful not to
alienate the British government.63
The discussion over the death rate of the migrant tea labour­
ing community makes it pertinent for one to talk about the tea
‘garden’ and its significance as part of the empire. This showed an
urgency on the part of the collaborators of empire such as Dowd­
ing to keep the romantic aspect of the ‘garden’ alive, to keep a past
alive which was not possible if the coolies kept dying. Hence, the
need to do away with the perils of modern elements like capitalism
to preserve a romantic past – a pre-modern nostalgic past of the
colonisers themselves which they seemed to have lost in the pres­
ent. Romanticisation of this past involved in keeping the coolies in
a romantic state of decay but not to the extent of their death.
When one is discussing Charles Dowding, a Christian mission­
ary and his sympathetic stance towards the coolies, it is important to
 Coloniser or Anthropologist? 263

build a connection between religion and empire which attaches the

notion of morality in the way capital is extracted, hence, emphasis­
ing the moral aspect of obtaining profit. Morality provides a kind
of legitimisation to the goals of the empire, all the more so, if it can
successfully bring the subjects too under the sphere of domination
and exploitation, thus lending a moral legitimation to their exploi­
tation. However, the very lack of consideration for the migrant
labourers’ well-being had the tendency of turning colonial rule to
an inhuman, immoral and illogical one, ‘…nothing less than a blot
on the Administration, and a discredit to Englishmen.’64 Colonial­
ism is marked as an era of violence that completely drained the
humanitarian aspect out of such a venture. It also endangered the
relationship between the colonisers and the colonised. In order
to rectify the saturation of such a situation, colonialism had to
penetrate the lives of the subjects in a more subtle, non-aggressive
manner. Here, religion seemed a prospective criterion that could
further the task of colonialism.65 Therefore, Dowding attempted
at making the authorities as well as men of the Company realise
the ‘illegitimacy’ of such a rule that did not follow the norms of
religion and morality as he laments – ‘…we might also sin through
becoming the tools of a system.’66
Or for another instance:
… a great and honourable profession, such as that of the lawyer, and
that of the clergy, has again and again, arrived at a point, where it stood
convicted, by the outraged conscience of its fellows of the most inhuman
injustice, harshness, cruelty, greed, ambition; so, a propertied class has
before now come to build up its stability in the most monstrous oppres­
sion.67

Dowding’s sympathetic approach towards the coolies lent a

personal and intimate edge to the understanding of his relation­
ship with them which would, otherwise, jeopardise the task of
subjugation. Such sympathy had the tendency to camouflage a
relationship of domination governed along the lines of the fam­
ily,68 with a personal and intimate side to it. S. Endle, another
missionary from Assam attempted to bring the reader’s attention
to the act of the recruiting agents who,
264 Anisha Bordoloi

send up sometimes the father of a family, with perhaps one grown-up son
and daughter, the wife and other children remaining behind. Many obvi­
ous evils follow from this vicious system, the father perhaps forming new
(i.e., criminal) ties in his new home, and the deserted mother perhaps
doing the same.69

From the perspective of someone devoted to the Church,

forming new ties were termed as criminal because it defied the
notion of the family and its moral boundaries. New families were
formed on immoral grounds in the new land. Therefore, whatever
did not suit Christian and European notions of morality were
viewed as ‘immoral’, ‘criminal’ and ‘illegal’:
But if in future, recruiters of labourers can be prevailed upon to avoid
sending up isolated members of families, and will, in particular, take care
not to separate husband from wife, and parents from their children, then
no small service will be done to a cause which we all have at heart, that of
morality and righteousness.70

By calling the Church the ‘natural protector of the weak’,71 the

Church’s position of authority and the position of the weak - are
both assumed to be pre-given and thus, natural. To be called the
‘natural protector’ also meant the wiping out of contestation of
the Church’s position of power. Therefore, it seemed important to
categorise those who were being ruled as ‘weak’, ‘poor’ and ‘jungly’
in order to erase any potential threat to its seat of authority. Dis­
cussing issues related to the natives within a religious framework
tended to impose a sanction of legality, morality and subjugation
along with instilling a sense of authority and dominance upon the
forbearers of religion when they talked about a group of people,
thereby, appointing themselves in the seat of authority while the
coolie became the site of contest for the harbingers of religion and
those of capitalist enterprises for the conquest of a ‘pre-modern’
people.
Even when Dowding referred to the migrant tea garden
labouring community as ‘coolies’, through the usage of such pre-
given categories, he was not really contributing in reducing the
social difference between the subject and himself even when he
talked in favour of the former and hence, as a consequence only
 Coloniser or Anthropologist? 265

further entrenching such pre-given categories and naturalising

them.
Dominance, in the words of Franck Poupeau, ‘…is an illegiti­
mate exercise of power by a fraction of the population which masks
particular interests under the general interests, the critical project
then linked to an emancipatory interest.’72 Poupeau is quoted here
because the power of the speaker (Dowding) was established not
just by what he/she said but because those to whom it was conveyed
(the British colonial audience) recognised them as possessing the
authority to say it or rather, recognise the institution through them
which gave them the right to say it.73
This also brings one to an interesting observation by Satadru
Sen in the context of the aborigines of Andamans, for whom ‘…
to discipline the drinking habits and sexual habits of tribals meant
mapping and patrolling the zone of exclusion’ of natives from the
realm of authority74 with administrators and missionaries like
Dowding imagining the ‘savages’ as normatively free and there­
fore, patrolling this freedom.

Conclusion
The anthropological sway is very much reflected in the travel
writings, reports or visits penned down and published by Christian
missionaries as they encountered new cultures and ways of life in
the colonies. The missionary-cum-anthropologist struck a balance
and a negotiation between primitivity and civilisation. Missionaries
clearly performed a political role through textual representation of
native society. In order to avoid colonial struggle, anthropological
knowledge and planning became a part of colonial strategy of rule
which also suited missionary approach towards their dealings with
a colonised population. Their writings and representations became
sites of struggle which got produced in the form of texts, archives
and reports as a result of encounters with a section of population
who represented living specimens of the romanticised, utopian,
uncivilised, and exotic past of the missionaries themselves. The
exotic was turned into a ‘field’ of numbers to be observed, worked
with or worked upon that also paved the way to visual bias. The
266 Anisha Bordoloi

practical visits to the field got translated into documentation

evidence from the missionary anthropologist’s perspective in the
form of autobiographies, travelogues or reports. Missionaries thus,
engaged in a simultaneous process of religious preaching and
information gathering and producing, which in turn contributed
towards the construction of what the idea of a ‘tea garden coolie’
was like and what it ought to be like through religious preaching.
Colonialism was much more than official administration. It can be
said to be an outcome of complex practical interactions.
Through the examination of a primary text such as Dowding’s
letter not only has one been able to establish a history of gener­
als, i.e. the native ‘others’ through the perspective of a ‘particular’
(Dowding), but one is also able to gain an insight into the gen­
eral world of the ‘particular’ (his religion, race, nationality) from
where these ‘particulars’ derive their authority to talk on behalf
of the natives. Second, it has brought to focus the non-mono­
lithic identity of the coloniser vested not just in the authority of
the governmental officials or the planters but also in the ‘moral’,
‘humanising’ endeavours of the disciples of religion such as
Charles Dowding. The tea garden and the coolies within it became
sites of realising the relative supremacy of those who spoke about
them or discussed what ought to be done about them. The absence
of voice of the subjects themselves who lived in the tea plantations
of Assam as is revealed from a text such as this, makes one come to
the conclusion that those situated outside the territorial confines
of the tea garden played a major role in making deductions about
its inhabitants and where they ought to be placed in the social lad­
der depriving any sort of agency to natives to define themselves.
This was precisely what defined the logic of a colonial tea ‘garden’
in Assam – a product of modernity sheltering the ‘pre-modern’.
As mentioned earlier, the politics of power could function
through multiple identities apart from the one that seemed more
visible. Anthropology itself emerged as a discipline to further
colonial endeavours through gathering information and knowl­
edge dissemination. The identity of a Christian missionary as an
anthropologist as well as a coloniser cannot be seen in disjunction
 Coloniser or Anthropologist? 267

from each other and it is this idea of multiplicity that this article
attempts to convey.

Notes
1. Nicholas B. Dirks, 2001, Castes of Mind: Colonialism and the Making
of Modern India, Princeton University Press, Princeton, p. 9.
2. Ibid.
3. Mention may be made of works such as Stephen Neill, 1966,
Colonialism and Christian Missions, Lutterworth Press, London; Jacob
S. Dharmaraj, 1993, Colonialism and Christian Mission: Postcolonial
Reflections, Indian Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge
(ISPCK), Delhi; Milton S. Sangma, 1987, History of American Baptist
Mission in North-East India (1836-1950), vol. I, Mittal Publications,
New Delhi; F.S. Downs, 1992, ‘North East India in the Nineteenth
and Twentieth Centuries’, in History of Christianity in India, vol. V,
pt. 5, The Church History Association of India, Bangalore; Milton
S. Sangma & David R. Syiemlieh, eds., 1994, Essays on Christianity
in North-East India by F.S. Downs, Indus Publishing Co., New
Delhi; Lal, Dena, Christian Missions and Colonialism: A Study of
Missionary Movement in North East India with Particular Reference
to Manipur and Lushai Hills 1894-1947, Vendrame Institute,
Shillong; Sebastian Karotemprel, ed., 1993, The Catholic Church in
Northeast India 1890-1990, Vendrame Institute, Shillong; Elizabeth
Kolsky, 2011, Colonial Justice in British India: White Violence and
the Rule of Law, Cambridge University Press, New Delhi; Hasnahana
Gogoi, 2016, ‘Missionary Travel Literature and the Representation
of Assam’, The NEHU Journal, vol. XIV, no. 1, January-June, pp. 39­
50; Anupama Ghosh, 2011, ‘Conversions, Education and Linguistic
Identity in Assam: The American Baptist Missionary 1830s-1890’,
Proceedings of the Indian History Congress, vol. 72, pt. I, pp. 863-74;
Sheila Bora, 2009, ‘The American Baptist Missionaries amidst the
Tea Garden Workers in the Brahmaputra Valley (1886-1936)’, in
Sarthak Sengupta, ed., The Tea Labourers of North East India: An
Anthropo-Historical Perspective, Mittal Publications, New Delhi. G.
Stadler & S. Karotemprel, 1980, History of the Catholic Missions in
Northeast India: 1890-1915, tr. and ed. Christopher Becker, Calcutta:
Firma KLM, under the auspices of Vendrame Missiological Institute,
Sacred Heart College, Shillong, 1980.
4. The term ‘coolie’ emerges in most colonial documents in a common
268 Anisha Bordoloi

way to refer to the tea garden population recruited to work in

Assam. It is also used as a general terminology to refer to labour
in the colonies who carried load or worked on construction sites
for roads and railways during the colonial period. Hence, the word
would be used at various points in the article in order to understand
the colonial construction of the term.
5. Peter Pels, 1997, ‘The Anthropology of Colonialism: Culture, History
and the Emergence o Western Governmentality’, Annual Reviews
Anthropology, p. 172.
6. Milton S. Sangma, 1987, History of American Baptist Mission in
North- East India (1836-1950), vol. I, New Delhi, Mittal Publications,
p. 30.
7. Ward uses the terms ‘unenlightened people’ and ‘rude race of
savages’ while citing the significance of Orunodoi, a journal begun
by the Christian Missionaries in spreading knowledge of the gospel
among the natives in Ward, 1884, pp. 9-10; Nathan Brown’s reference
to the native population as ‘heathen’ as cited in Milton S. Sangma,
1987, History of American Baptist Mission in North- East India
(1836-1950), vol. I, Mittal Publications, New Delhi, p. 30; Reference
to ‘savages skilled in barbarous warfare’ in The Whole World Kin,
1890, p. 111. The author further adds that ‘the more cruel, ignorant
and dangerous they were, the greater the reason for the work just
undertaken’ (p. 111) and refers to the ‘heathen who are given to lying,
theft, opium smoking…to everything wicked, rude and unlovely’,
1987, p. 140.
8. Diane Lewis, 1973, ‘Anthropology and Colonialism’, Current
Anthropology, vol. 14, no. 5, December, p. 584.
9. F.S. Downs, 1992, ‘North East India in the Nineteenth and Twentieth
Centuries’ in History of Christianity in India, vol. V, pt. 5, The Church
History Association of India, Bangalore, p. 37.
10. Sebastian Karotemprel, ed., 1993, The Catholic Church in Northeast
India 1890-1990, Shillong, Vendrame Institute, p. 520.
11. Milton S. Sangma, 1987, History of American Baptist Mission in
North-East India (1836-1950), vol. I, New Delhi, Mittal Publications,
p. 57.
12. Nathan Brown, 1890, The Whole World Kin: A Pioneer Experience
Among Remote Tribes and other Labors of Nathan Brown, Hubbard
Brothers Publishers, Philadelphia, p. 124.
13. Ibid.
14. Milton S. Sangma, 1987, History of American Baptist Mission in
 Coloniser or Anthropologist? 269

North- East India (1836-1950), vol. I, Mittal Publications, New Delhi,

pp. 57, 59.
15. Milton S. Sangma, 1987, History of American Baptist Mission in
North- East India (1836-1950), vol. I, New Delhi, Mittal Publications,
p. 57.
16. The Assam Mission of the American Baptist Missionary Union. Papers
and Discussions of the Jubilee Conference held in Nowgong, December
18-29, 1886, Baptist Mission Press, Calcutta, 1887, p. 26.
17. Ibid., pp. 26, 27, 28.
18. Sheila, Bora, 2009, ‘The American Baptist Missionaries amidst the
Tea Garden Workers in the Brahmaputra Valley (1886-1936)’, in
Sarthak Sengupta, ed., The Tea Labourers of North East India: An
Anthropo-Historical Perspective, Mittal Publications, New Delhi,
p. 19.
19. Lal Dena, Christian Missions and Colonialism: A Study of Missionary
Movement in North East India with Particular Reference to Manipur
and Lushai Hills 1894-1947, Vendrame Institute, Shillong, p. 25.
20. Sebastian Karotemprel, ed., 1993, The Catholic Church in Northeast
India 1890-1990, Vendrame Institute, Shillong, p. 156.
21. Milton S. Sangma, 1987, History of American Baptist Mission in North-
East India (1836-1950), vol. I, Mittal Publications, New Delhi, p. 146.
22. Diane Lewis, 1973, ‘Anthropology and Colonialism’, Current
Anthropology, vol. 14, no. 5, December, p. 583.
23. Ibid., pp. 582, 583.
24. Peter Pels, 1997, ‘The Anthropology of Colonialism: Culture, History
and the Emergence of Western Governmentality’, Annual Reviews
Anthropology, p. 171.
25. Ibid.
26. C.E. Petrick, 1899, ‘Tea Garden Coolies’, The Assam Mission of
the American Baptist Missionary Union: Minutes, Resolutions and
Historical Reports of the Fifth Triennial Conference held in Dibrugarh,
11-19 February 1899, Calcutta, Baptist Mission Press, p. 68.
27. The Assam Mission of the American Baptist Missionary Union. Papers
and Discussions of the Jubilee Conference held in Nowgong, December
18-29, 1886, Baptist Mission Press, Calcutta, 1887, pp. 5-6.
28 Examples can be cited of Udmari and Balijuri churches in Nowgong
district. See ibid., p. 26.
29. Ibid., pp. 5-6.
30. P.H. Moore, 1899, ‘Report from the Nowgong Field’, The Assam
Mission of the American Baptist Missionary Union: Minutes,
270 Anisha Bordoloi

Resolutions and Historical Reports of the Fifth Triennial Conference

held in Dibrugarh, 11-19 February, Calcutta, Baptist Mission Press,
p. 22.
31. Milton S. Sangma, 1987, History of American Baptist Mission in
North- East India (1836-1950), vol. I, New Delhi, Mittal Publications,
p. 163.
32. A.K. Gurney, 1887, ‘History of the Sibsagar Field’, The Assam Mission
of the American Baptist Missionary Union, 18-29 December 1886,
Calcutta, Baptist Mission Press, p. 26.
33. Ibid., p. 27.
34. Ibid.
35. John Firth, ‘Report from the North Lakhimpur Field’, The Assam
Mission of the American Baptist Missionary Union: Minutes,
Resolutions and Historical Reports of the Fourth Triennial Conference
held in Sibsagar, 14-22 December 1895, Calcutta, Baptist Mission
Press, 1896, p. 48.
36. Ibid., pp. 48-9.
37. Ibid.
38. A.K. Gurney, 1887, ‘History of the Sibsagar Field’, The Assam Mission
of the American Baptist Missionary Union, 18-29 December 1886,
Calcutta, Baptist Mission Press, p. 28.
39. M.C. Mason, 1887, ‘Methods of Mission Work’, The Assam Mission
of the American BaptistMissionary Union, 18-29 December 1886,
Calcutta, Baptist Mission Press, p. 96.
40. Ibid.
41. Ibid., pp. 96-102.
42. Ibid., p. 102.
43. Ibid., p. 104.
44. Ibid.
45. Ibid., p. 116.
46. O.L. Swanson, 1944, In Villages and Tea Gardens: Forty Three Years of
Missionary Work in Assam, Conference Press, Chicago, p. 24.
47. Ibid., p. 48.
48. Ibid., p. 52.
49. Ibid., p. 64.
50. Ibid., p. 149.
51. G. Stadler & S. Karotemprel, 1980, History of the Catholic Missions in
Northeast India: 1890-1915 tr. and ed. Christopher Becker, Calcutta:
Firma KLM, under the auspices of Vendrame Missiological Institute,
Sacred Heart College, Shillong, p. 69.
 Coloniser or Anthropologist? 271

52. Ibid., pp. 582, 583.

53. Ibid., p. 583.
54. Sebastian Karotemprel, ed., 1993, The Catholic Church in Northeast
India 1890-1990, Shillong, Vendrame Institute, p. 155.
55. Karotemprel, , p. 399.
56. Charles Dowding, 1894, ‘Tea Garden Coolies in Assam’, A Letter by
the Hon’ble J. Buckingham, C.I.E., replying to a communication on the
subject which appeared in ‘The Indian Churchman’, p. 8.
57. Diane Lewis, 1973, ‘Anthropology and Colonialism’, Current
Anthropology, vol. 14, no. 5, December, p. 7.
58. Here, the term ‘modern’ refers to a comparative positioning of a
group of people who constructed their superiority by identifying the
non-progressive and backward nature of the ‘other’ and the identified
‘other’ representing the past of a people who consider themselves
progressive and technologically advanced compared to the ‘other’ in
‘a’ present.
59. The ‘progressive’ and the ‘modern’ implied the white planters.
60. Charles, Dowding, 1894, ‘Tea Garden Coolies in Assam’, A Letter by
the Hon’ble J. Buckingham, C.I.E., replying to a communication on the
Subject which appeared in ‘The Indian Churchman’, p. 61.
61. Ibid., p. iv.
62. Ibid., p. 2.
63. Shashank Shekhar Sinha, 2010, ‘Adivasis and Witchcraft in
Chotanagpur (1850-1950)’, Unpublished PhD Thesis, University of
Delhi, p. 17.
64. Dowding Charles, 1894, ‘Tea Garden Coolies in Assam’, A Letter by
the Hon’ble J. Buckingham, C.I.E., replying to a communication on the
subject which appeared in ‘The Indian Churchman’, p. 25.
65. Diane Lewis, 1973, ‘Anthropology and Colonialism’, Current
Anthropology, vol. 14, no. 5, December, pp. 581-3.
66. Dowding Charles, 1894, ‘Tea Garden Coolies in Assam’, A Letter by
the Hon’ble J. Buckingham, C.I.E., replying to a communication on the
subject which appeared in ‘The Indian Churchman’, p. v.
67. Ibid., p. v.
68. The family forming the basis of dominance, order and discipline
through the establishment of personal, intimate relationship
between members such as the father – the head of the family vested
with authority and the rest of the family members vested with the
duty of obedience and discipline.
69. Dowding Charles, 1894, ‘Tea Garden Coolies in Assam’, A Letter by
272 Anisha Bordoloi

the Hon’ble J. Buckingham, C.I.E., replying to a communication on the

subject which appeared in ‘The Indian Churchman’, p. 37.
70. Ibid., p. 38.
71. Ibid., p. 38.
72. Franck Poupeau, 2005, ‘Reasons For Domination, Bourdieu versus
Habermas’, in Pierre Bourdieu 2: Sage Masters of Modern Social
Thought, ed. Derek Robbins, Sage Publications, p. 95.
73. In this context, the institution being the Church.
74. Satadru Sen, Aboriginality and the Modern State, Paper for Nehru
Conference at Jamia Milia Islamia, p. 4.
 CHAPTER 12

Romance of the Wild, the Natural,

and the Savage
Glimpses of Evangelism in North-East India,
1836-1900

M. SATISH KUMAR

This paper contends that the practice and performance of the

missionary project generated imperial hermeneutic situations
(Livingstone, 2000) and focuses on the need for an appreciation of
it in the colonial context of north-east India.

Evangelism, Utilitarianism and the Charter of 1813

The identity of the indigenous tribal population of the north-east
and its liminality emerged from the peripherality of their location
in the colonial discourse and had little to do with the colour of
their skin, race or religion. Here, Englishness as a cultural rather
than a racial category informed the imperial hermeneutics in a
colonial world. In other words, missionary endeavours in civilizing
and humanizing the indigenous tribal population in the middle
of the nineteenth century introduced moral meanings, both
imagined and real, objective and prejudiced, in the understanding
of the Noble Savages. This led to a fracturing of ideas of colonial
modernity. Our goal is to unpack the imperatives of the colonial
modernity project through the missionary and imperial discourses
in the northeastern parts of India.
North-east appeared as an uncharted territory, an empty space
onto which imperial imagination projected its hopes, fears and
274 M. Satish Kumar

desires. The question is whether these discourses valorized primi­

tivism. How did Englishness appear as a force of moral authority
among the tribals and what were its consequences? For the ‘Raj’ to
remain British, Englishness was a necessary vehicle.
We would like to draw your attention to an interesting episode
narrated by Mrs Grimwood in her 1891 work, My Three Years in
Manipur about bathing drawers.
This is an amusing incident associated with the Nagas. They never bur­
dened themselves with too many clothes, and these in particular wore
little beside a necklace or two. I mentioned this fact to a spinster lady
friend of mine on one occasion, and she was horrified because Nagas used
to frequent the river for bathing at the back of the Residency grounds.
She shortly sent me nine pairs of bathing drawers to be given to them.
They were very beautiful garments; some had red and white stripes, and
some blue, and they were all very clean. I presented them gravely one
morning to my nine Naga ‘malis’ or gardeners. A few days later I went
into the garden and found two men at work. One of them had made a
hole in his bathing apparatus and had put his head through it, while his
arms went into the places for the legs, and he was wearing it with great
pride as a jacket. The other had arranged his with an eye for the artistic
on his head as a turban. After this I gave up trying to inculcate decency
into the mind of the untutored savage.1

The early part of the nineteenth century was infused with

two very significant movements, of ‘Free Trade’ and ‘Evangelism’,
what Eric Stokes called, ‘the rock upon which the character of the
nineteenth century Englishman was founded, owed much of its
impetus to the Indian connexion’.2 The call was made for the aboli­
tion of monopoly trade engaged by the East India Company and at
the same time, a demand that evangelical missionaries should have
a greater access in the empire. It was interesting to note that two of
the Company’s servants, who worked as advisers to Lord Cornwal­
lis in India belonged to the aggressive Clapham sect, whose main
intention was to enforce Christianity in the Raj. The result was that
a generation of civil servants went to India, who were keen to sup­
port missionaries and promote free trade in the interiors of India.
Based on such a foundation of free trade, the evangelical mission­
ary zeal gave impetus to the various social reform programmes
 Romance of the Wild, the Natural, and the Savage 275

initiated in the Raj. At the same time, the evangelical and Method­
ist ideas also influenced the political opinions in the colonies.
The Clapham Sect under the leadership of William Wilber-
force (1759-1833) wielded considerable influence with William
Pitt the Younger (1759-1806) and Charles Grant (1746-1823), who
controlled the activities of the East India Company. The Clapham
Sect also supported the abolition of slave trade in the empire,
(Stokes 1959, Hall 1995) and reinforced the importance of open­
ing India to missionary enterprise. In this respect the Charter Act
of 1813 became an important landmark with regard to missionary
endeavours in the Raj. It was Charles Grant, the director of the
East India Company, who argued that colonized subjects should
be assimilated into the empire and, therefore, by ‘anglicising the
Indians, a community of interest would be established’.3 Thus in
1813, on the occasion of the renewal of the East India Company’s
Charter, the Evangelicals mounted a major public campaign to
achieve their objectives and to put Grant’s ideas into action. The
Charter Act of 1813 resolved the decades of public controversy
regarding missionary activities in the empire. This Charter led to
the establishment of an Indian church with three archdeacons. The
missionaries also ensured legal protection of Christian converts
in India, and mounted pressure for the suppression of barbaric
northern Indian, Hindu practices such as infanticide and suttee
(self-immolation of widows on the funeral pyre of their dead
husbands). They also demanded the East India Company disasso­
ciate itself from supporting Hindu temples and Muslim mosques
during their respective religious festivals. Overall, the missionar­
ies acquired greater freedom for their work in India. Provision
was made for an annual sum to support educational initiatives,
which was recognized as a key vehicle for assimilation of the
natives in India. However, the East India Company did not favour
the evangelical view as it went against their traditional policies
in India. Indeed, the transformation of the East India Company
merchants into a ruling force was largely based on the assump­
tions of considered isolation from the natives, of the maintenance
of racial superiority based on military conquest. Political expedi­
ency demanded that the East India Company maintain scrupulous
276 M. Satish Kumar

regard for Indian customary laws and institutions. The idea was
one of non-interference. Lord Cornwallis, in particular, had little
sympathy for the ideas of assimilation put forward by the Evan­
gelicals. The fact that missionary ideals were being latched on to
the powerful political agenda of free trade led to constant conflict
between the Company policy and the missionary objectives of
‘civilising mission and commerce’.4
At this point in time, it is also useful to note the terms of
discourse that was taking place between the Company and the
missionaries in India. There was the emergence of a liberal colonial
policy in the nineteenth century. Indeed, the point where the mis­
sionaries and the merchants were in agreement was on the issue
that in dealing with the extension of commerce, human nature
was intrinsically the same everywhere, ‘that in buying and selling,
human nature is the same in Cawnpore as in Cheapside’.5 They also
agreed in principle on the problems visible in India and their solu­
tions. From 1818 onwards, there was greater fusion of ideas among
the missionaries and the merchants and was manifested in the
establishment of progressive English institutions, such as schools,
colleges, universities, banks, currency, laws and, indeed, religion.
For once, the superiority of the British Empire and Englishness
was established in India and informed polices in other colonies,
too. As Stokes maintained, ‘to civilise India was the avowed aim of
the British policy. This inevitably meant assimilation of India into
everything that was English’.6 Thomas Babington Macaulay (1835)
noted that there is a need to create, ‘a class of persons Indian in
colour and blood, but English in tastes, in opinions, in morals and
in intellect’.7
By the 1850s both the missionaries and the East India Com­
pany had rescinded their policy of tolerance, and respect for
Indian civilization.8 At this time Evangelicalism and Utilitarian­
ism both converged in promoting the principle of individualism,
thereby purporting to free the average Indian from the ravages
of despotism, and tyranny of the ancient nobility, and, of course,
the corrupt priestly order. They both agreed in evolving public
opinion to confront and eradicate social evils. Where they con­
tradicted each other though was in the explanation regarding the
 Romance of the Wild, the Natural, and the Savage 277

importance of the law. The Utilitarians believed in the law as an

instrument of human invention, thereby abolishing the role of
God. The Evangelicals however, believed that law was divinely pre­
determined. So while the Utilitarians believed in punishment for
those breaking the law, the missionaries believed in the power of
persuasion, and admonition.
It is now well established from studies conducted in vari­
ous parts of the British empire that evangelical endeavours were
responsible for the anti-slavery movements, and for defining the
course of the imperial project, be it in Jamaica, Assam or Bengal.
This also helped solidify the archetypal tropes of colonial conquest
of control, civilization and the removal of barbarism. The mis­
sionaries helped further their agenda of propagation and, at the
same time, provided tacit support to the commercial ventures of
the empire. The evangelical revival of the late eighteenth century
was based on religious conviction, stemming from ‘a vocabulary of
the right to know and to speak that knowledge, with moral power
that was attached to the speaking of God’s word. One of the issues
on which they spoke was what it meant to be English’.9

Englishness as a Discourse:
Its Link to Missionary Discourses
Englishness was a product of colonial culture, deeply rooted in
the historical context of imperialism. The primary aim here is to
interrogate the construction of English identities, which resulted
in the formation of an ambivalent class in the colonies.
Englishness relates to a set of values and identities, which
became the very essence of imperial conquest. These relate to civi­
lization, progress, literacy and civility and helped to fashion the
colonial subjects by enabling them to appropriate the civilizational
authority of Englishness. This paper contends that identification
with the culture of Englishness, while reshaping their identities, also
led to displacement of their local cultural space. The colonial proj­
ect invariably created greater fractures in the spaces of modernity,
particularly in the margins of the empire. In this sense, ‘English­
ness’ has tended to produce more conflict and contradictions
278 M. Satish Kumar

than stable values, as espoused by the missionaries. In a way, this,

too, produced a form of colonial culture on the margins of the
empire.
Following the imperial policy of assimilation of the tribals or
the indigenous population of north-east India, Englishness was
superimposed over an entire range of tribal diversities and differ­
ences. Attempts to iron out differences among the varied groups of
tribes were rarely successful and sowed the seeds for major insta­
bility in the region after the Independence of India in 1947. We
find evidence of how the tribals managed to reinvent their own
local spaces and, thereby, reconstitute the constitutive core ele­
ments of Englishness. As Gikandi10 notes that colonialism was a
project of power, at the same time, this project also helped retain
the ambivalence of its intentions while providing an unsolicited
marriage between colonialism and evangelism. Thus, the tribals
or ‘noble savages’ were envied for their sense of freedom and were
contrasted with the degenerate ‘plains’ persons. Yet the sympathy
did not extend to the tribals’ heathen practices, of barbarism.
What is interesting to observe is that both the missionaries and
the colonial administrators retained their spaces of difference, of
hierarchies, in the colonial cultural grid. In a sense, this was more
of a paternalistic policy, to save the ‘souls’ from further degenera­
tion. Englishness demanded that the tribals acquire literacy, adopt
Western values, symbolisms, vocations, accoutrements, and a
European demeanour. Thus, adopting Christian names was very
common among the tribes and this distinguished them from other
‘savages’. Cultural alterity superimposed itself over geographical
space.

Englishness and Britishness in the Empire

The debate between Englishness and Britishness had important
implications in the empire. The invention of Englishness was a
subversive category and helped to reduce racial and ethnic tension,
which otherwise would have destroyed the fabric of the empire.
The ingenuity of ascribing Britishness to the Celtic categories was
balanced by promoting Englishness in the colonies. It is interesting
 Romance of the Wild, the Natural, and the Savage 279

to note that indigenous tribals assumed that ‘English’ was a generic

category. At the same time, Scottish, Irish, and Welsh missionaries
and administrators were all amalgamated into a category of British,
in the service of the empire. The tribals, despite being civilized,
and Christianized, could consolidate their own identity only by
revoking and reinforcing the tales of their past valour and identity
as a tribe. So, there was a contradiction, a conflict of representation.
Their histories were ‘read and interpreted by the imperial agents
from a vantage point of a greater imperial narrative’.11
The question that can be asked is, were they willing to renounce
their old identities, and narratives in order to enter a colonial
future, which still tended to marginalize their general representa­
tion within the colonial state? Indeed, past narratives and thereby
their identities could not be erased, and at the same time, these
narratives remained central to their world view. Evangelicalism,
however, did drastically alter their socio-economic institutions,
though as we note in the present post-colonial situation, their cul­
ture was rarely intruded into. It further tended to destabilize the
general assumptions of binary categories of centre and margins.
The remaining part of the paper will highlight the various aspects
of this contention. The panoptical colonial tendency to ‘gaze’ to
dominate was balanced by the gaze of appreciation for the noble
savages, thereby decentring the binarism constituted by core and
periphery narratives in the empire.
The tribals are constantly aware of the difference between their
identity and that of the imperialist. They realized that Englishness
was the closest option to bridge this gap. They have effectively
demonstrated that despite being classed as a colonial subject,
they maintained their ‘distance from the imperial realm’.12 Thus,
being English or ‘born again’ tribals did not divorce themselves
from their cultural roots, much as the missionaries wanted them
to do so. The question of their ancestry and its origins were fairly
well entrenched in the tribal psyche. Their cultural translation to
Englishness was a strategic deployment of their identity, thereby
helping them deal with their internecine conflicts and territorial­
ity. The privileging of European cultural traditions faced resistance
in space, thereby overturning the hegemonic discourse.
280 M. Satish Kumar

The engagement of missionaries in diverse geographical

spaces helped to establish and, at the same time, destabilize the
imperial referents associated with the colonial subjects in north­
east India. The missionaries provided the scope for the emergence
of a form of fractured modernity among the noble savages, thereby
reflecting a distinct failure of the colonial project of modernity.
While modernism was seen as a political triumph and a cultural
triumph for the imperial administrators and the missionaries alike,
the rise of subversive mimicry by the tribals only reinforced the
failure of carrying the modernity project to its conclusion. These
reversals back to ‘old heathen habits’, as we shall see, jeopardized
the efficacy of the project. This raised constant fears and anxiety
among the missionaries in the margins of the empire, i.e. north­
east India. This was a crisis in the ‘epistemology of empire under
modernism’,13 thereby resulting in a fracturing of modernity ideals
espoused by the Clapham Sect of Wilberforce and his supporters
Grant, Shore and Macaulay. Englishness, therefore, threw up all
kinds of alterity mediated by spaces, both local, marginal and core.
Over time, race was abstracted from the earlier discourse
on Englishness and ‘Sahib’ as a category became an alterity for
the natives as much as Britishness became an alterity for other
non-English colonizers in India. What we do find is that the mis­
sionaries were not exempt from the discourses on Englishness,
being actual representatives of the imperial past and identity. As
mentioned, imperial crises, such as the Indian Mutiny of 1857, the
Vellore Mutiny of 1806 and the Morant Bay Mutiny of 1865, all
reinforced the issue of Englishness as being a defender of freedom,
virtue and order in the colonies. In the north-east, ‘aggressive bio­
logical racism’14 was not visible and the rhetoric of discourse was
largely benign. At the same time the sins of being non-English was
described as being idle, reckless, oversubscribing to freedom and,
therefore, to anarchy.
Englishness, subscribed by Thomas Carlyle, was distinctly
different from that of John Stuart Mill. While Carlyle related attri­
butes of law and morality to Englishness, Mill, on the other hand,
emphasised more on the humane character of English culture,
of anti-slavery.15 Yet both of them concurred that there was an
 Romance of the Wild, the Natural, and the Savage 281

essential difference between the natives and the colonialist, which

reaffirmed the civilizational authority of Englishness. Both deploy
the natives as a hermeneutical other for extending the understand­
ing of Englishness in the colonies. Mill believed that moral and
cultural change was imperative to ensure the progress of civiliza­
tion. Englishness thus implied domestication of the natives to its
quintessential principles through the medium of education. As
Gikandi, notes, ‘to civilise the barbarians is to enforce the essential
qualities of Englishness’16 and this helped to reinforce the civiliza­
tional authority of Englishness. So Englishness influenced colonial
culture and vice versa.

Englishness and the Tribals of North-east India

Travelling to the extremities, to the margins of the empire,
the north-east of India, helped us to see how the missionaries
endeavoured to inculcate Englishness in specific geographic
locale. What we now see is the construction of a new colonial
subject, the hills people, and the tribes, who are far removed from
the general ‘natives’ in the plains. These tribals are civilized to the
nuances of Englishness and a defender of Christian faith. Indeed,
the transformative power of Englishness is self-evident among the
tribals of the north-east even to this day. Englishness was a spatial
and territorial ideology17 among the tribals in India.
Englishness acquired a more utilitarian form of meaning in
the colonies. Englishness was presented as something, which can
be acquired and even lost, ‘a second nature’, and a way of angli­
cizing the empire’s diverse identities. Missionaries helped to both
localize and globalize this cultural vernacular discourse in the
colonies and thereby helped to reinforce the imperial referents
of the empire. To defend Englishness through such enterprises
as education, religion, and architecture helped to prevent moral
and cultural corruption of the empire. The missionaries, thereby,
helped to enlarge the boundaries of Englishness from the metro­
politan core to the peripheries of the empire. These enterprises,
therefore, aided the imperial translation of English identity among
the colonial subjects. As Baucom notes, ‘there were constant
282 M. Satish Kumar

attempts to secure Englishness of the colonies and to ensure the

Anglicization of the colonised’.18 This was true for the missionar­
ies, too.

Modernity and Fractured Modernity

Gayatri Spivak notes that the ‘empire messes with identity’.19 The
principles of colonial modernity in effect succeeded in fracturing
local tribal spaces and, indeed, their microgeographies of
coexistence, as sanctioned by traditions, norms and conditioned
by hermeneutical practices, experiences and consciousness. The
north-east Indian tribals were visualized and identified within the
racial alterity of ‘cultural primitivism’, which translated into forms
of wildness, savagery, cannibalism, nomadism and their disdain
for rule of law and of private property.
Fractured modernity in this paper is about failures, of incom­
pleteness of the colonial project. It relates to an unstable colonial
space, where modernism seeks aesthetic solutions to historical
problems, resulting in fragmentation of subjectivities and imperial
atrophy. The point is how to read the relationship between a ratio­
nalized European experience, colonized tribal space, and cultural
forms of modernism. Missionary and indeed imperial anxieties
were staged and managed in the projected tribal spaces of alterity.
Their concerns were with the indigenous tribal or heathen cul­
ture, especially their forms of knowledge and belief systems, their
social organization, and norms of animistic faith in their natural
and wildly romantic world. The tribal world exhibited a normative
cultural grid and norms of existence. In one sense, an admixture of
fatal attraction and revulsion underwrote the missionary reaction
to the ‘noble savages’ and their romantic idealism of the natural.
At the same time, we do find the emergence of native voices chal­
lenging the forces of imperial adventure in their territory and this
tends to vastly radicalize the imperial discourse of the tribals in the
frontiers of the Raj.
We see evidence of attempts made by the colonized subjects
resisting the consolidated, hegemonic vision of colonialism by sub­
verting their gaze of the ‘Other’, i.e. missionaries, administrators
 Romance of the Wild, the Natural, and the Savage 283

and soldiers. There is now a flow of discourse from the margins

to the core, openly challenging and at times defying the imperial
and evangelical ideology. Such forms of disorder helped the mis­
sionaries and administrators to approach the tribal missions with
a well-charted strategy of paternalism.
Divisiveness of identity also related to fractured modernity.
While modernity was introduced to wean the tribals away from the
barbaric traditions, yet the past could not be erased, and this inter­
play between the past and the present resulted in manifestations
of fractured modernity.20 Indeed, re-appropriation of traditional
identity also led to fracturing of the modern identity. The tribals
resorting to self-fashioning, along the lines of Englishness came
about with the advent of missionaries, assisted by the introduction
of Western education and indeed Christianity in north-east India.
A good Christian tribal emerged as a role model for those seeking
social and cultural mobility. This also redefined codes of respect­
ability and helped in the creation of a moral, political and cultural
code of conduct, thereby taming their barbarism. This new sub­
ject identity helped them to stand apart from their non-Christian
brethrens in the colonial space.

Fractured Modernity in North-east India

Modernity was translated in a major respectability campaign, to
recast the values and morals of tribal women and men and their
notions of freedom, as exhibited in their respective dormitories,
i.e. bachelor houses or morungs. Introducing the notion of private
property also meant limiting the number of wives a man could
possess. It is interesting to note that the rhetoric of difference,
which came about due to missionary influence did not result in
the social exclusion of the tribals themselves from the colonial
project or their community themselves. On the contrary, attempts
to civilize them and raise their level of English consciousness
produced a notion of fractured difference, which resulted in their
making constant forays back and forth within their established
tribal traditions. Missionary encounter was very different from
the colonial encounter, and the emphasis of the latter was more
284 M. Satish Kumar

on commerce, whereas the missionaries were keen to enhance

morality and humanity based on faith. We thus see the anti-slavery
movements emerging as a focal point of dispute between the
missionaries, on the one hand, and the colonial administrators, on
the other. The missionaries advanced the attributes of Englishness
to a far greater extent than the colonialist. At the same time,
modernity here was a fractured one, which utilized traditional
hierarchies of clans and tribal identities to push through their
own sense of Englishness. This fractured modernity resulted in
social and spatial displacement of the tribals, and initially were
not mapped on to their traditions, thereby forming a hybrid sense
of ambivalent identity. Aspirational identity, which geared towards
respectability, became a focal point of the rhetoric and indeed,
assimilation of the tribals into the Christian world.

North-eastern India and its Location in this Debate

As mentioned earlier, the advent of a series of imperial crises in
the colonies, such as the Vellore Mutiny (India) in 1806, the Indian
Mutiny of 1857 and the Morant Bay Rebellion of 1865, resulted
in what Hall termed as a ‘moral panic’.21 Race emerged as a main
factor in this crisis, and its inability to handle cultural nuances
associated with the natives. This was not a problem while dealing
with the tribals of the north-east. The pursuance of Englishness
was discreetly left to the ingenuity of the missionaries rather than
to the imagination of the colonial administrators, particularly
given their track record of administrative failures.

The Romance of North-east Tribals:

Naturalness, Wildness and Savagery
In 1874, the Province of Assam was created after the successful
Anglo-Burmese campaign of 1825 and the Naga Hills district was
included within it. The races here were described as ‘among the
most picturesque in the world, and until their energies are sapped
by contact with civilisation, they remain among the most light­
hearted and virile’.22 Paternalism, as a policy, dictated the terms of
 Romance of the Wild, the Natural, and the Savage 285

discourse. The general explanation of excluding the Naga Hills as

a separate, administrative entity was because
these backward people will only be victimised if we try and impose
on them institutions which, while they may be suitable for the more
advanced civilisations, will do nothing but lead to their exploitation. We
realise the great danger of imposing upon them criminal and civil codes,
and all that is connected with them, which while they may be admirable
for civilised communities, are extremely dangerous and injurious to
these backward races.23

This generated an intense debate about assimilation/isolation or

integration of tribals.
The earliest history of British relations with the Nagas is one of
perpetual conflict. Between 1852 and 1875, 10 military expeditions
were sent to punish Nagas (who comprised various tribal groups)
for their raids on the plains. In 1866, a new district was formed
and, in 1878, the headquarters was transferred from Samaguting
to Kohima. The first British political officer was shot dead and this
led to a series of campaigns to subdue the Nagas lasting until 1880.
Major Butler, who was placed in charge of the hill tribe sub­
ject during the East India Company between 1844-65, was of the
opinion that
Government should abandon any attempt to administer the hills, con­
sidering that official intervention in internal disputes had been a failure.
Butler, in the fashion of the day, describes Assam as ‘a wild, uncivilised,
foreign land’, and he suggests that ‘to those accustomed only to the com­
forts of civilised life, or to the traveller who is indifferent to the beauties
of scenery, the monotony, silence and loneliness of vast forests of Assam
will present few features of attraction’. Major Butler wanted ‘to make
Assam better known, to remove some prejudices against it, and preserve
the memory of many remarkable scenes’.24

The tribals had a heightened sense of their identity and pride.

They were largely territorial. The missionaries had acceded to
the fact that these tribals had a form of civility, though more in
a primitive state. It was their naturalness along with their primi­
tiveness, which attracted the attention of the missionaries and
the colonialists alike. While the imperial space was viewed with
286 M. Satish Kumar

suspicion, danger and contamination, the hills, inhabited by the

diverse tribal groups, or noble savages, were a welcome change.
These tribal spaces were seen to resonate the European sense of
freedom, naturalness, of the primal nature.
The colonialist search for the ‘natural’ introduced the oppor­
tunity for the discovery of many indigenous populations or ‘noble
savages’, whose transformation into civilized dependable subjects
was considered useful in the general schema of imperial project.
Indeed, the missionaries and the administrators were surprised
by their encounters with the tribals of the north-east of India, in
the margins of the empire. Their naturalness was a rare commod­
ity in the empire and was distinct from the loathsome habits of
the corrupted people in the plains of India. These tribals reflected
courage, purity of intentions, self-sacrifice in lieu of treachery, cru­
elty, cowardice, dishonesty, idolatry and bestiality, as was visible
in the plains of Assam and the rest of India. Missionary discourse
was imbued with aesthetic justification and thereby felt the need
to extend the words of the ‘Saviour’ among these benevolent
heathens. This aesthetics largely informed the representations of
Englishness and of the empire in the margins as well as in the core
of the empire.
These tribals were conceived of being continuous with that
humanity, which was part of the European heritage. White notes
that it was ‘this mode of relationship that underlay the policy of
proselytisation and conversion’.25 In case of the tribals, they were
not looked upon as an inferior breed of humanity. The colonial
policies of aggression in the north-east of India was largely to
temper the threat to the missionaries, the administrators and com­
mercial merchants, who were making inroads into the frontier, and
thereby consolidating the empire. The Europeans, it was empha­
sized, had a ‘natural and strong sympathy for these people’ and
the effort was how to ‘prevent them from being converted into bad
Hindus’.26 This resulted in the enactment of an Inner Line Regula­
tion of 1873, in order to protect the tribals, or the ‘noble savages’
and primarily to bring the region under stringent control against
commercial exploitation by British tea planters and other plains
 Romance of the Wild, the Natural, and the Savage 287

people. Incidentally, this regulation is still in operation today in

the post-colonial world.
Indeed, Johnstone, notes that:
The question of education generally was one that greatly interested me.
In combination with other suggests, I strongly urged the advisability of
establishing a regular system of education, including religious instruc­
tion, under a competent clergyman of the Church of England. I pointed
out that the Nagas had no religion; that they were highly intelligent and
capable of receiving civilisation; that with it they would want a religion,
and that we might just as well give them our own, and make them in that
way a source of strength, by thus mutually attaching them to us.27

He goes further to note that,

a fine interesting race like the Angamis, might, as a Christian tribe,
occupy a most useful position on our Eastern Frontier, and I feel strongly
that we are not justified in allowing them to be corrupted and gradually
‘converted’ by the miserable, bigoted, caste-observing Mussulman (or
Muslims) of Bengal, men who have not one single good quality in com­
mon with the manly Afghans, and other real Mussulman tribes. I do not
like to think it, but unless we give the Nagas a helping hand in time, such
is sure to be their fate and we shall have ourselves to thank when they are
utterly corrupted.28
Thus, we see that the fear of contamination of the noble savages
by the plains population was real and the continued protection of
their naturalness was a moral imperative for the missionaries and
administrators alike in the north-east of India.

Geography of Missions: Company, Tea and Commerce

There is little written on the geography of missionary discourses in
north-east India. The next section presents a sample of writings on
the region by colonial administrators, soldiers, missionaries, and
explorers, whose interpretations generally reflected the biases of
the period in which they were operating. However, what we get
here is a discourse, which is inevitably a firsthand report and, at the
same time, provides us with an insight of the context in which they
288 M. Satish Kumar

were operating in colonial India. Anthropologists who worked on

colonial India have suggested that ‘there were no illusions about
the noble savage; in the main their opinion of the tribes was a low
one and their attitude was all too often patronizing or scornful’.29
Lord Dalhousie pronounced the Assam frontier to be a ‘bore’,
and even as late as 1911 we find the wife of an officer attached to
the Abor Expedition of that year expressing herself in a series of
puns: ‘It is such a bore that my husband has to go off on that silly
Abor Expedition to fight those stupid aborigines with their queer
arboreal habits.’30
In 1869, Lewin anticipates the attitude and policy of modern
India, when he writes,
This I say, let us not govern these hills for ourselves, but administer the
country for the well-being and happiness of the people dwelling therein.
What is wanted here is not measures, but a man. Place over them an
officer gifted with the power of rule, not a mere cog in the great wheel
of government, but one tolerant of the failings of his fellow-creatures
and yet prompt to see and recognise in them the touch of nature that
makes the whole world kin, apt to enter into new trains of thought and
to modify and adopt ideas, but cautious in offending national prejudice.
Under a guidance like this, let the people by slow degree civilise them­
selves. With education open to them and ye moving under their own laws
and customs, they will turn out not debased and miniature epitomes of
Englishmen, but a new and noble type of God’s creatures.31

Even serious writers took the same view. Butler declared that,
the troops of his command wish for nothing better than an opportunity
of contending with the Singphos, or indeed with any of their treacherous
neighbours (whom they hold in the utmost contempt) in a fair battle in
the open country.…32

He called the Khamptis

‘a discontented, restless, intriguing tribe’. The Singphos were ‘rude treach­
erous people’; the Abors were referred to ‘as void of delicacy as they are
of cleanliness’ and the Nagas ‘as an uncivilised race, with dark complex­
ions, athletic sinewy frames, hideously wild and ugly visages, reckless of
human life’.33
 Romance of the Wild, the Natural, and the Savage 289

Among such (‘noble savages’), says Butler in 1847; ‘we might

reasonably expect missionary zeal would be most successful. For
the last eight years, however, two or three American Baptist mis­
sionaries had in vain endeavoured to awake in them a sense of the
saving virtue of Christianity’.34
Rowlatt, who explored the Mishmi hills in 1844, describes the
Mishmis as ‘disgustingly dirty: with the exception of a few of the
chiefs, they seldom washed from one year’s end to another.… They
seem to have but a very faint idea of any religion’.35 M’Cosh who
included a chapter on the hill tribes in his Topography of Assam
(1837) says of the Miris that their manners and habits are ‘wild
and barbarous and their persons filthy and squalid’.36 Robinson,
though he speaks well of the Abors, describes the Daflas as having
ugly countenance and a ‘somewhat ferocious appearance’. Beres­
ford speaks of the Abors as ‘truculent and aggressive … like all
savages, the only law they know or recognise is that of force and in
the ability of awarding prompt and speedy punishment’.37
Needham, spoke about the Mishmis as ‘treacherous and cow­
ardly curs’; they are ‘blustering and leniency is as little understood
by this tribe as by any other similarly uncivilised and savage’.38
Likewise, Dalton notes that the Apa Tanis make war ‘both
effectually and honourably, fighting only men and inflicting no
injury whatever on non-combatants’. There was a general lack of
sympathy for the tribals of the north-east. The records pertaining
to religion was largely imperfect. As Elwin notes, ‘it was not easy,
at that date, for the majority of European officers to take seriously
any religion other than their own’.39
This belief that the tribal people of Assam had no religion, or
alternatively that what religion they had was (as Butler said of the
Singphos) ‘a mixture of all the various idolatries and superstitions’
ever invented, did not encourage unbiased and scientific inquiry’.
Thus, even Dalton says that ‘the religion of the Mishmis is confined
to the propitiation of demons’ and of the Chulikatas he observes,
‘I have met with no people so entirely devoid of religious feeling
as are the Chulikatas. I had long conversations on the subject with
several chiefs, and they utterly rejected all notions of a future state
290 M. Satish Kumar

or of immortality of any kind’. Of the Nagas he says, ‘they have no

temples and no priests, and I never heard of any form of worship
amongst them, but I do not doubt that they sacrifice and observe
omens like other tribes’.40
In 1865, a leading article in the Pioneer brought to focus the
habitat of the tribals in the north-east of India. It stated ‘that the
only idea which most men had, with the habitat of savage tribes,
whose bloody raids and thieving forays threatened serious danger
to the cause of tea’.41 J. M’Cosh notes that, ‘this beautiful tract of
country, though thinly populated by straggling hordes of barba­
rism and allowed to lie profitless in impenetrable jungle, enjoys
all the qualities requisite for rendering it as one of the finest in
the world. Its climate is cold, healthy and congenial to European
constitutions’.42 Mackenzie states that an American missionary,
Mr Bronson, had resided for some years among these fierce tribes
teaching them Christianity and the art of cultivating tea.43
The southeastern hills of Assam are the abode of many tribes of Nagas.
They are a very uncivilised race, with dark complexions, athletic sinewy
frames, hideously wild and ugly visages: their faces and bodies being tat­
tooed in a most frightful manner by pricking the juices of the ‘bela’ nut
into the skin in a variety of fantastic figures. They are reckless of human
life; treacherously murdering their neighbours often without provoca­
tion, or at best for a trivial cause of offence. The greater number of the
Nagas is supposed to be in a destitute state, living almost without any
clothing of any kind. Their poverty renders them remarkably free from
any prejudices in respect of diet, they will eat cows, dogs, cats, vermin
and even reptiles, and are very fond of intoxicating liquors. Amongst a
people so thoroughly primitive and so independent of religious prepos­
sessions, we might reasonably expect missionary zeal would be most
successful; for the last eight years however, two or three American Baptist
missionaries have in vain endeavoured to awake in them a sense of the
saving virtues of Christianity.44

The earliest missionaries who went into the Brahmaputra

Valley were the Jesuit missionaries, Stephen Cacells and J. Gabral.
They were keen to find a route to China and Tibet, through the
landlocked northeast frontier.45 Downs, however, believes that
the earliest missionaries may have appeared with the advancing
 Romance of the Wild, the Natural, and the Savage 291

Mughal army way back in 1696.46 The Serampore mission of the

Baptist Missionary Society made the first significant contact with
north-east India in the early part of the nineteenth century. The
initiative for starting the missionary enterprise (as mentioned at
the outset) was from the East India Company, at the insistence of
Grant, and Wilberforce, in conjunction with the Clapham Sect.
This initiative was also supported by the fact that the policy of mil­
itary expeditions was not proving to be fruitful, and was resulting
in endless wars of retaliation, and revenge.47 The consensus was
that what guns could not achieve the power of the gospel would.
There was also a realization that these tribals in north-east India
were untainted by either Islam or Hinduism. It was believed that
Christianity was the basis for the stabilization of the empire.
James Johnstone believed that a large number of Christian hill
men between Assam and Burma would become a valuable prop
to the British.48 General Dalton, CSI, as commissioner of Chota
Nagpure, did his utmost to aid Christian mission and said that,
it cannot be doubted that a large population of Christian hill-men
between Assam and Burmah would be a valuable prop to the state. Prop­
erly taught and judiciously handled, the Angamis would have made a
fine manly set of Christians, of a type superior to most Indian native
converts, and probably devoted to our rule. As things stand at present, I
fear they will be gradually corrupted and lose the good qualities, which
have made them attractive in the past unless some powerful counter
influence is brought to bear on them, they will adopt the vile, bigoted
type of Mohammedanism prevalent in Assam and Cachar, and instead of
becoming a tower of strength to us, be a perpetual weakness and source
of annoyance. I earnestly hope that I may be wrong and that their future
may be as bright a one as I could wish for them.49

From the very early days, there were two sharply divided
points of view about the development of the hills. Some officials,
especially those posted in Assam who knew the realities of the
situation, felt that government should undertake a ‘mission of
civilisation’ and that the only way to prevent raids both on the
plains and other Naga villages with their inevitable and distasteful
consequence was to establish administrative control of the whole
of India up to the Burmese frontier. Yet they did not bring all areas
292 M. Satish Kumar

under the Company control because it was too much trouble and
too expensive. An order of the Government of India in 1866 puts
the situation clearly: ‘Should the hillmen be gradually reclaimed to
our rule and civilised, without much cost to the British treasury in
the process, it will be a good work well accomplished.’50
William Carey responded to the request of the British magis­
trate of Sylhet (Bangladesh) to send a mission to the Khasi Hills in
1813. The mission sent its first Indian convert Krishna Chandra
Pal to the Khasi Hills, with the Bible in Bengali script. David Scott,
chief commissioner of Assam, took the next initiative. He wrote a
letter to Bayley, secretary to the government of India on 27 April
1825, proposing that the Calcutta Council invite missionaries to
start humanitarian activities among the hill tribes of Assam.51
Thus, started the mission of civilizing the unruly, barbaric ‘noble
savages’ in the north-east. Further efforts were made to provide all
assistance to the missionaries, in complete reversal to the earlier
policy of the East India Company: ‘The government could give not
only financial assistance but also salary to the people who might be
employed in their capacities as missionaries.’52
The Baptist Missionary Society (BMS) opened its centre at
Gauhati, in 1829, with Scott’s assistance. The Anglo-Indian mis­
sionary came up in Cherrapunji in 1833. In 1841, the American
Baptist Mission was established in upper and lower Assam53 and the
Welsh Presbyterian Mission went into the Khasi Hills in Shillong.
The engagement of the American missions was by accident rather
than by design. They, too, were keen to seek a route to China, to
establish missions among the Chinese. Thus missionaries’ interest
in the north-east of India was guided and aided by their evangeli­
cal, commercial and political interests. Nathan Browns and Oliver
Cutters, a printer, who established a printing press for evangelizing
the Shans and then the Chinese, aided the American Baptist mis­
sionaries. This was called the China and Shan Mission.54
Indeed, the Asian strategy was ill planned because the Sing­
phos and Khamtis, tribes for whom they started their missions, had
no links with the Shans in Burma. At the same time, these tribes
resisted the advent of the colonialists into their territory. Political
instability frustrated the efforts of Brown in establishing a ‘gateway
 Romance of the Wild, the Natural, and the Savage 293

to the celestial empire’. This resulted in Revd Miles Bronson tak­

ing steps to cultivate the Nagas. This action was widely endorsed
by the colonial administrators, believing that, ‘such work would
contribute directly or indirectly to the British policy of pacifying
the Naga tribes without having to assume direct administrative
control over them’.55
There was a major controversy that appeared in the uncoordi­
nated approach and strategy between the missionaries on the field
and the home board. The board was ambivalent about the nature
and progress of the mission activities in the Brahmaputra Valley.
They ignored geography and insisted that ‘whatever be the area
or situation, evangelism should follow the New Testament pattern
and the missionary had to work in a manner approved by the board
in advance’.56 The board also questioned the validity of education
as the basis for spreading the gospel of truth. It appeared that the
entire controversy appeared during the shortage of funds due to the
American Civil War. This reduced the pace of missionary progress
in the north-east. The mission for evangelizing the Brahmaputra,
like the Central Asian plan, was embarked upon with great hopes
and optimism, but without much funds to back the plan. Lack of
results prompted the idea of abandoning the Assam mission.57 It
was an American missionary, Mr Bronson (1842-52), who had
resided among the tribes, teaching them Christianity and the art
of cultivating tea. He asked the government to contribute Rs. 100
a month towards his Naga schools.58 The government, however, at
this time thought it improper to give direct aid to missions, even
when working among savage tribes, forgetting that it had made
grants in 1829 to the Garo missions with very fair results.59
However, the sincerity of the Garo tribes and other converts
re-activated the enthusiasm, and the mission activities among the
Nagas was revived in 1841. Mr Clark, a missionary, wanted the
Company to support his ventures among the Ao Nagas in 1871
but did not get much response because of the establishment of
the Inner Line Permit. Under the East India (Laws and Regula­
tions) Act, 1870, these areas were termed ‘un-administered’, but
were regarded as part of the province of Assam for the protec­
tion of the indigenous tribes of Assam Valley and the Northeast
294 M. Satish Kumar

Frontier Agency. Here the commercial interests of the Company

came into conflict with the evangelical endeavours. The Company
official turned a blind eye to merchants who transgressed the Line,
whereas they strictly enforced the code to the detriment of the
missionary endeavours among the ‘noble savages’.60

Company versus Evangelicals: Terms of Discourse

Thus, while evangelism and free trade went hand in hand, yet
there were ruptures to contend with in the operation of this twin
strategy in the north-east of India. First, there were colonial
administrators like David Scott, who clearly went against the
Utilitarian policy of Cornwallis and established a paternalistic
regime of accommodation of indigenous interest to promote
commercial interests of the East India Company. At the same time,
both the evangelists and the utilitarians evoked individualism as
a means to break out of the tyranny and slavery associated with
heathen customs.
The Welsh Calvinist Methodist Foreign Mission Society
(WCMFMS) operated through the London Missionary Society
(established in 1795, as a conglomeration of Anglicans, Welsh
Presbyterians, and Congregationalists/Independents). Conflict
between church polity and the policy of recruiting the missionar­
ies resulted in the Welsh mission breaking away and establishing
the WCMFMS in 1840, in order to provide a greater sense of
responsibility and greater liberality among its workers.61 Thus, the
Welsh mission established itself in Shillong, in the Khasi Hills in
1841, 1866 and in the Lushai Hills in 1891.
The early missionary texts pertaining to the tribes are full of
pejorative and uncharitable reference in the terms defined by the
colonial texts in Western parameters. During her first encounter
with the Ao tribes, whom she had come to evangelize Mary Mead
Clark was full of contempt, ‘I was introduced to these stalwarts,
robust warriors, dressed mostly in war medal, each man grasping
his spear, shaft decorated with goats hair, dyed red and yellow and
also fringed with the long black hair of a woman telling the story
of bloody deeds.’62
 Romance of the Wild, the Natural, and the Savage 295

In his first letter, Thomas Jones described the people with

whom he had come (Khasi Hills) into contact in the following
words:
A more pitiful lamentable and at the same time a more inviting field for
the Christian cannot be found. Here are multitudes upon multitudes of
untutored heathen, naturally lazy and sluggish, living in filth and rags,
afraid to wash a rag lest it should wear out sooner, depriving themselves
of proper clothing, niggardly hoarding up every pice (farthing) they can
get and if asked the reason why they answer that they may have some­
thing to sacrifice when they or their friends are ill.63

About the Lushai Hill, they used the description,

The inhabitants were regarded by the few Europeans then residing in
Bengal as the fiercest and most barbarous of all the tribes within the
province, notorious for their headhunting expeditions to the neighbour­
ing plains. The object of these raids was to obtain human skulls with the
object to adorn the graves of their ancestors, the belief prevailing that the
spirits of the slain would become the slaves of their ancestors in the spirit
world.64

The missionaries described their life amidst the tribals as ‘liv­

ing in horrors of savage warfare’ which the tribals indulged in. In
fact, they were constantly haunted by fear of headhunting which
the tribals practised. When Dr Clark went up the Naga Hills, the
magistrate of Sibsagar asked his wife, ‘Don’t you expect to see your
husband with his head on his shouders?’ During their subsequent
stay in the hills, Clark’s cook was repeatedly warned not to give
much blaze to the fire lest the villages of the surrounding peaks
take notice of the new settlers and adorn their skull stores with
new heads.65 S.W. Rivenburg, another pioneer American mission­
ary among the Nagas, expressed his shock that a man was not
admitted to his tribe formally ‘until he participated in the taking
of human life’.
In addition, ‘after a war between villages conquerors hang the
skull of their enemies on their fence posts as Americans hang deer
heads in their front walls’.66 Sword described the Garo tribe as a
‘fierce and untameable tribe’.67
Revd E.G. Phillips agreed that the Garos were ‘bloodthirsty
296 M. Satish Kumar

savage[s]’ who were ‘most desperate and inconvincible’.68 Rev. P.H.

Moore (1886) talked of the natives as
Born in heathenism and brought up in poisonous atmosphere and in
their earliest childhood were taught by their own parents—lip all forms
of lying and deceit and filthy communication—slander, backbiting and
reviling abuse.69

Of the tribal religion Moore (1886) said, ‘all these hill people
were demon worshipers; but each tribe has its own demons and its
own ceremonies, preserved in pristine purity or largely modified
by their environment’.70 As far as the religious faith of the tribes
were concerned, it was repeatedly emphasized that their religion
‘was a crude form of demonology. Its main principle consists in
the endeavour to propitiate evil spirits by the offering of sacrifices.
A vague belief exists in a supreme being’.71 The religion of Khasi
was frequently described as animism or spirit worship in which
the worship of demons or evil spirits was repeatedly emphasized.
These reports also concluded that the Khasis did not have any defi­
nite idea about religion as such.72
Tribals were often associated with liquor and drunkenness,
which the Missionaries detested. The Mizos were said to be ‘lazy,
cruel, superstitious and very prone to drunkenness’.73 Thomas
Oldham mentioned about the Khasis that of the bad quali­
ties ‘dissoluteness of manners and drunkenness were the most
prominent’.74 Of the Tangkhul Naga, Pettigrew (1934) wrote disap­
provingly of their addiction to zu (rice beer). In his annual report,
he stated that the Meithei was reckoned as ‘a liar’ but the Tangkhul
Naga could easily beat the former in the art of lying.75
Another characteristic, which the missionaries associated with
tribalism, was their marriage institution. They often frowned upon
the sexual openness of the tribals but what they strongly disliked
besides polygamy was the ease with which tribal men abandoned
their married wives. In other words, the absence of divorce laws
and the weak institution of the marriage itself were associated
with tribal life. ‘The worst feature in the manner of the people and
one likely to be a serious obstacle to the missionary is the laxity of
 Romance of the Wild, the Natural, and the Savage 297

their marriage, indeed divorce is so frequent that their unions can

hardly be honoured with the name of marriage.…’76
Similarly, the missionary also detested the tribal culture of
breaking out into community singing and dance practised with
lavish feasts, where animals were sacrificed, and spirit worship
practised accompanied by much drunkenness. The missionaries,
in their evangelization effort, tried to discourage such performance
perpetually. In fact, the missionaries reported that the opposition
and hostility to Christianity and reversion back to ‘heathenism’ by
the tribals was manifested by waves of elaborate dance and song
performance by the community. This performance was done often
deliberately in order to spite the missionaries. It may be mentioned
here that eventually such community song and dance was adapted
as a part of Christianity in these tribal areas. Adoption of local
practices was something common to all religions, be it Buddhism
or Islam. While tribalism was condemned as ‘savagery’, the mis­
sionaries rationalized their advance in the area as ordained to
bring the words of the saviour to the tribals.
Wherever we go and the more we hear of the customs, habits and lives
of the people, the more we are convinced of their need of the Saviour.
Deeper is the shadow of this country’s sin than the dark hue of surround­
ing mountains under an approaching storm, brighter are our expectations
and hopes than the coming down of the eastern sky, for we want the com­
ing of the great light of the world who shall pour forth His eternal light
upon these people who sit in darkness and in the valley of the shadow of
death. We wait for the coming of Him who bringeth life to those who are
perishing for want of truth.77

Tribal Gaze and Evangelical Discourse

Unlike in the rest of the Indian subcontinent, where modernity
introduced a sharp divide between public and private spheres,
in case of north-east India, modernity had to counter the divide
between communality and ideas of individuality as espoused by
the project of Westernization. The clash was between values of
the ‘noble savages’ and indulgence of their civilizing mentors. In
298 M. Satish Kumar

a sense, ‘fractured’ modernity became far more rhetorical than

the project of colonialism. Evangelism led to the subordination of
communal identity to that of the individual identity. The posturing
was full of contradictions resulting in tensions between the colonial
state and the missionaries.
The missionaries were not looked upon by favour by these
tribals and invariably were suspicious of the outcome of their
visit. Thus when Fr Krick, a Frenchman, visited the interiors of
Abor country in Assam, despite his claims that he had no ter­
ritorial ambition of the Englishmen, the tribal opinion was ‘any
white skin, any nose somewhat protruding, is of English make’.78
The tribals believed that once they allowed an Englishman to enter
their country, they were sure to have an army at their heels.
The Nagas, comprising diverse tribes, such as Konyaks, Aos,
Angamis, Lhotas, Rengmas and others, had a general dislike of
English colour, regarding it as ‘unripe’ or ‘undercooked’. Some of
them were very democratic in their traditions, while others were
highly authoritarian. However, brutality was said to be common
to all. In the 1891 Census of India, Davis notes that, ‘the Angamis,
who are in many respects the most advanced and independent of
all the Naga tribes, showed no disposition towards being converted
to Christianity.’79 On the whole, Rev. E.W. Clark and W.E. Witter
had done much to inculcate education and civilization among the
Ao and Lhota Naga tribes.
The policy of complete non-interference proved a failure.
Mackenzie (1869) informs us that, ‘It was too English to be appre­
ciated by ignorant Nagas.’80 There were constant appeals from
Angamis to prevent head-hunting raids and this led to the with­
drawal of this policy. The civilization of the uncivilized races now
began in earnest.

Institutional Transformations and

Impact of the Missionaries
With the coming of Christianity there were prominent institutional
transformations initiated in the tribal landscape. Prominent in
many villages is the morung or dormitory for the unmarried men—
 Romance of the Wild, the Natural, and the Savage 299

some have small houses for the unmarried girls, too. The morungs
are guardhouses, recreation clubs, and centres of education, art
and discipline, and have an important ceremonial purpose. Many
house the great wooden drums, which are beaten to summon
war or to announce a festival. Formerly skulls and other trophies
of war were hung in the morungs and the pillars are still carved
with striking representations of tigers, hornbills, human figures,
monkeys, lizards and elephants. Morungs were soon discontinued.
The practice of head-hunting was important in this region. It
was believed that by taking a head, there would be an injection
of vital and creative energy to the aggressor’s village. This was
valued by the ‘noble savages’ for maintaining human and animal
fertility.81 These head-hunting expeditions, too, disappeared. At
the same time, wood carving as an art, too, suffered a decline.
Conversion to Christianity has made other changes: the stress on
personal salvation has introduced a new individualism in place of
the former community spirit. Hymns have taken the place of the
old songs; many dances which celebrated head hunting raids can­
not now be danced or simply linger on for exhibition to important
visitors. Among the newly educated, there is a reluctance to work
with one’s hand and a desire to join the white-collar jobs. In recent
years, there is a revival of Naga culture, in terms of hand-woven
dresses and shawls.
Missionaries had a major influence on their lives. Nagas
were encouraged to give up their traditional practices, thereby
impacting on their social and cultural practices far more than any
government could have done. They insisted on a convert becom­
ing a teetotaller; i.e. giving up zu or rice beer; he had to restrict
himself to one wife; at one time he was not even allowed to eat
the flesh of the mithun (wild bison), an animal associated with
‘sacrifices’ and ‘heathen’ festivals. The missionaries stopped the
Great Feast of Merit. They forbade the boys to attend the morungs
(men’s dormitories). They often stopped dancing, and even the art
of weaving suffered since generally the convert adopted European
mill-made dress, imbibing ‘Englishness’ as a mode of life.
When the Nagas were asked whether they would like to
become the subjects of the Company, they promptly replied, ‘No:
300 M. Satish Kumar

we could not then cut off heads of men and attain renown as war­
riors, bearing the honourable marks of our valour on our bodies
and faces’.82
Becoming Christians, therefore, meant a different way of life,
which involved different morals and ethics, to a change in every­
day life. As Clark notes that: ‘Once civilised and Christianised,
they will make a manly, worthy people’.83
Areas in which massive emphasis was given was in the disuse
of intoxicants, hygienic living, advocacy of a more defined role for
women modelled on Victorian women, halt to inter-tribal warfare
and head hunting and abolition of certain tribal institutions, like
the bachelor’s dormitory and slavery. Intoxicant or liquor con­
sumption was a major concern for the missionaries. Not only the
tribes, even the converted Christians continued to observe tradi­
tional religious ceremonies in times of crisis and never ceased to
use the country liquor. Nor did they totally stop practising their
own culture and customs in what was a great disappointment to
the missionaries. For example, the missionaries insisted on Chris­
tian marriage rituals for the tribal converts but the latter continued
to break their vows and frequently took new wives leaving their
existing spouses. The angry missionaries commented:
It is difficult to win these people from their old heathen customs.
Although the number of Christian marriages increased, the newly con­
verted Christians are slow to realise the meaning and sacredness of the
marriage vow. We are exceedingly discouraged by the fact that several
of the Christians who had been married according to British law and in
religious service have separated again. The majority of them appear to
think that there is no force in the marriage contact unless the bridegroom
gives some dowry to the wife’s family.84

The Mission Report lamented:

Immorality had accounted for many (backsliding) and many do not
seem to have grasped the idea of binding sanctity of the marriage ties and
one reason for the laxity of people in this matter is the ease with which
divorce can be obtained according to old Lushai customs. The govern­
ment has persistently refused to introduce the Indian Christian Marriage
Act into this country.85
 Romance of the Wild, the Natural, and the Savage 301

Most of the tribals in north-east India were habitual users of

intoxicants like liquor or opium. A halt to this use became the
symbol of a new lifestyle for the converts to which at least the Prot­
estant ones were committed. The missionary campaign to stop the
widespread use of opium—a habit which enjoyed the patronage of
the colonial state (deriving considerable income from the monop­
oly it had on the trade)—had social implications far beyond the
Christian community. This led to conflict between colonial state
policies and the evangelical endeavours of the missionaries.
The issue of personal cleanliness and healthy living conditions
was an issue, too. Most tribals had very few baths in their lifetime.
Mizos, for example, bathed only once in their lifetime—on the day
of their marriage. To persuade the hill peoples to bathe regularly,
when all water available had to be carried in bamboo containers
from great distances and up very steep hill paths, was no small
task. To provide an example, Presbyterian missionary D.E. Jones
set up a model village in Aizawl where the basic principles of
hygiene were followed. The effort of the missionaries bore fruits
and the following observations were made,
We have been permitted to see them go farther than we felt it wise to
advise them on matter of drink, use of opium and false worship. They are
building better houses for themselves, with rooms, … some of the Chris­
tians keep their person, and homes and food comparatively clean.… They
do not eat rotten fish and the money once they spent for drink, opium
and false worship is making them prosperous. They have adopted a mode
of burial and more decent dress than the heathen. They are becoming
more conscientious in the relation of sexes.86
Another important contribution that Christianity made was
providing a basis for a new relationship among villages and tribes.
The British colonial administration’s effort to prohibit raids on the
plains and on each other’s villages as well as head hunting would
never have been a total success without the initiative of the mis­
sionaries. However, sometimes the missionaries were upset that
the converts persisted with a few of their old cultural habits. For
example, Jerman Jones, a Welsh missionary, was aghast that the
Christian converts participating in a harvest feast maintained their
older cultural habits. He noted that,
302 M. Satish Kumar

The Christians continued to hold a kind of first fruits feasts, as they had
been accustomed to do before their conversion, at the same time it is
only fair to say that they do not run to the same excesses as the heathen
villagers but their feasts were very much like the old heathen feats held
in this and in other villages—so like them indeed the heathen declared
there was no difference between the Christians and themselves.… I was
quite convinced that such feasts were altogether unworthy of professed
Christians and that an end must be put to them at once.87

The missionaries often opposed the songs and dances of the

tribals on moral grounds as these songs contained material related to
explicit sexuality and were suggestive in nature. They also opposed
the use of drum and dance in Christian revival programmes. A
missionary representation of tribal animism sketched by Moore
mentioned that, ‘All these hill people are demon worshippers, but
each tribe has its own demons, and its own ceremonies, preserved
in pristine purity, or largely modified by their environment’.88
The tribals also did not agree with the missionary views on
these as well as the missionary hostility towards drinking and betel
nut chewing. They resisted attempts of reform, of civilizing, which
forced them to forego their traditional cultural identity. Eventu­
ally, the missionaries accepted these tribal cultural practices as
part of Christianity in the hills, thereby leading to indigenization
of the Christianity in north-east India.

Conclusion
Thus, the tribals of north-east India have a very heightened sense
of their identity and pride. They imitated the norms defined by
‘Englishness’ and this accentuated their liminality within the
colonial imperial space. They continued to filter in and out of these
norms. They were close to civilization, but not close enough.
The Manichaean division between the naturalness of the tribes
and the corrupt practices of the ‘plains’ population provided the
essential cusp to contextualize the liminality of Englishness in this
peripheral region. Indeed, the deployment of this fiction of Eng­
lishness was an ideal sustenance for the project of colonialism in
the Raj. The missionary discourses were interspersed by anxieties
 Romance of the Wild, the Natural, and the Savage 303

in an attempt to reclaim their moral project, which stood apart for

the commercial interests of the administrators. As a result, even
the savagery and naturalness of the tribes was valorized to suit
the imperial claims of evangelism. The diversity of the region—its
geography—threw open major contradictions of complicity and
resistance among the tribals and between the imperial agents, i.e.
colonial administrators, soldiers, travellers and indeed the mis­
sionaries. The only way the tribals could celebrate their Englishness
was by highlighting their dominant codes of transformation into
civilized subjects. Their attraction to the civilizational authority
of ‘Englishness’ was a suspect as they eventually challenged the
moral code—the Christian code of conduct. For once, there was a
reversal of the gaze on to the colonizers and, by extension, to the
missionaries. Dominant moral and social codes of Englishness,
such as bravery, naturalness, freedom, etc., were associated with
these tribal populations. At the same time all indigenous cultural
‘aberrations’ were sought to be transformed through persistent
moral and religious persuasion.
The tribals could never take their ‘Englishness’ for granted
and were caught in a bind between constantly reaffirming their
allegiance to the missionaries and at the same time to their tribal
ethnic brethren. What we find is that the tribals did not uncon­
ditionally accept Englishness in this context. It led to further
complexities in the interaction between the imperial state and the
margins of the empire. However, the gradual emergence of ‘native’
converts among the tribes helped reduce the alterity images of bar­
barism and civilization to some extent. The savage space was, to a
great extent, domesticated and civilized. At the same time, frac­
tured modernity introduced instability in the tribal colonial space.
Their aesthetization led to the formation of a fragmented identity.
At the same time, missionaries’ anxieties were constantly resur­
rected and staged in this unstable colonial tribal space of alterity.
Their abiding concerns remained with their indigenous tribal
cultures, namely that of head hunting, including the traditional
social organizations, of morungs or dormitories for boys and girls,
and the norms of animistic faith in the absoluteness of the natural
world. Indeed, the missionary’s reaction to the ‘noble savages’ is
304 M. Satish Kumar

underwritten by an admixture of revulsion and fatal attraction to

the romantic idealism of the ‘natural, free and wild tribal space’.
We also saw attempts by the tribals themselves to challenge the
aesthetic vision of the colonialists and the missionaries by subvert­
ing their gaze of the ‘Other’, i.e. the missionaries and the colonial
administrators.
Initially valorizing ‘primitivism’ by the missionaries and
administrators was crucial in gaining entry to this inhospitable
region, but gradually this was replaced by a policy of ‘paternalism’,
which managed to maintain the balance between mercantile and
evangelical imperatives of the colonial project. The missionaries
sought to valorize this primitiveness as a way to defy the crass
materiality of the imperial project of the East India Company. Both
the missionaries and the administrators believed that such forms
of primitiveness mirrored the traditional values of ‘Englishness’.
In this respect, the colonial administrators, the evangelicals and
the tribals were all assimilated within this hermeneutical circle,
which was established by the imperial policy. It was a policy of
colonial paternalism in the north-east of India, which ultimately
broke through this imperial hermeneutical delirium. ‘Englishness’,
while at the same time maintaining utilitarianism in the colonies,
was a form of residual authority to retain control over the tribals.

Notes
1. Ethel St. Clair Grimwood, My Three Years in Manipur; And Escape
from the Recent Mutiny, Richard Bentley and Son, London, 3rd Edn,
1891, p. 8.
2. Stokes, Eric, The English Utilitarians and India, Clarendon Press,
Oxford, 1959, p. xii.
3. Ibid., p. 34.
4. Ibid., p. 36.
5. Ibid., p. 40.
6. Ibid., p. 46.
7. C.E. Trevelyan, On the Education of the People of India, Orme,
Brown, Green and Longmans, London, 1838, p. 410.
8. K. Chancey, ‘The Star in the East: The Controversy over Christian
Missions to India, 1805-1813’, 1998, Historian, Spring, and Stokes,
 Romance of the Wild, the Natural, and the Savage 305

Eric, The English Utilitarians and India, Clarendon Press, Oxford,

1959.
9. C. Hall, White, Male and Middle Class: Explorations in Feminism and
History, Polity, Cambridge, 1995, p. 207.
10. Simon Gikandi, Maps of Englishness: Writing Identity in the Culture
of Colonialism, Columbia University Press, New York, 1993.
11. Ibid., p. 34.
12. Ibid., p. 39.
13. Ibid., p. 48.
14. Hall, op. cit., p. 59.
15. Gikandi, op. cit., p. 66.
16. Ibid., p. 68.
17. I. Baucom, Englishness, Empire and the Locations of Identity,
Princeton University Press, Princeton, 1999, p. 12.
18. Ibid., p. 77
19. G. Spivak, Outside in the Teaching Machine, Routledge, New York,
1993, p. 226.
20. S. Joshi, Fractured Modernity: The Making of a Middle Class in
Colonial North India, Oxford University Press, Delhi, 2001.
21. Hall, op. cit., p. 23.
22. Simon Commission Report, 1935, as referred to in Verrier Elwin,
Nagaland, Adviser’s Secretariat, Shillong, 1961, p. 35.
23. Elwin, op. cit., p. 38.
24. J.A. Butler, Nagas at War: A Sketch of Assam with Some Account of
the Hill Tribes by an Officer, Smith, Elder & Co, cited in Elwin, op.
cit., p. xxi.
25. Hayden White, Tropics of Discourse: Essays in Cultural Criticism,The
Johns Hopkins University Press, Baltimore, 1992, Chapters 7&8,
p. 193.
26. Elwin, op. cit., p. 39.
27. J. Johnstone, My Experiences in Manipur and the Naga Hills, 1896,
reprinted 1971, New Delhi, pp. 43-4, cited in Elwin, The Nagas in the
Nineteenth Century, Oxford University Press, Bombay, 1969, p. 518.
28. Loc. cit.
29. Elwin, The Nagas in the Nineteenth Century, op. cit., p. xv.
30. P. Millington, On the Track of the Abor, London, 1912, p. v.
31. T.H. Lewin, The Hill Tracts of Chittagong and the Dweller Therein
with Comparative Vocabularies of the Hill Dialects, Bengal Printing
Company, Calcutta, cited in Elwin, The Nagas in the Nineteenth
Century, op. cit., pp. xviii-ix.
306 M. Satish Kumar

32. Butler, loc. cit.

33. Ibid.
34. Elwin, The Nagas in the Nineteenth Century, op. cit., pp. xvi.
35. Ibid., p. xxi.
36. J. M’Cosh, ‘Account of the Mountain Tribes on the Extreme North
East Frontier of Bengal’, Journal of Asiatic Society of Bengal, vol. V,
1836, pp. 193-208.
37. Elwin, The Nagas in the Nineteenth Century, op. cit.,. p. xvi.
38. Ibid., p. xvi.
39. Ibid., p. xviii.
40. Ibid.
41. Ibid., pp. xv-xvi.
42. M’Cosh, Topography of Assam, 1837, reprinted, Logos Press, New
Delhi, 1986, p. 132.
43. Mackenzie, A., History of the Relations of Government with the Hill
Tribes of the North East Frontier of Bengal, 1884, reprinted Mittal
Publishers, New Delhi, 2001, p. 17.
44. Butler, op. cit.
45. S.K. Bhuyan, Early British Relations with Assam, EBH Publishers
Gauhati, 1948, p. 3.
46. F.S. Downs, The Mighty Works of God: A Brief History of the Council
of Baptist Churches in North East India: The Mission Period, 1836­
1950, Christian Literature Centre, Guwahati, 1971, pp. 69-70.
47. S.K. Barpujari, ‘Early Christian Missions in the Naga Hills: An
Assessment of their Activities’, Journal of India History, vol. 48, 1970,
p. 427.
48. Elwin, The Nagas in the Nineteenth Century, op. cit., p. xviii.
49. E.T. Dalton, Descriptive Ethnology of Bengal, Calcutta, 1872, Calcutta,
Office of the Superintendent of Government Printing, German
edition, 1875, p. 599, cited in Elwin, The Nagas in the Nineteenth
Century, Oxford University Press, Bombay, 1969, p. xviii.
50. Elwin, Nagaland, op. cit., pp. 22-4.
51. Mackenzie, op. cit., pp. 253-4.
52. N.K. Barooah, David Scott in North East India, 1802-1831: A Study
in British Paternalism, Munshiram Manoharlal, New Delhi, 1969,
p. 177.
53. J.H. Morris, History of the Western Calvinist Methodists: Foreign
Mission, Liverpool, 1910, p. 75.
54. W. Gammell, A History of American Baptist Missions in Asia, Africa,
Europe and North America, Andesite Press, Boston, 1950, pp. 211­
12.
 Romance of the Wild, the Natural, and the Savage 307

55. Downs, The Mighty Works of God: A Brief History of the Council
of Baptist Churches in North East India: The Mission Period, 1836­
1950, op. cit., p. 23; Dena, Lal, Christian Missions and Colonialism:
A Study of Missionary Movement in North East India with Particular
Reference to Manipur and Lushai Hills, 1894-1947, Vendrame
Institute, Shillong, 1988, p. 24.
56. Downs, op. cit., pp. 40, 42; Dena, ibid.
57. E.M. Brown, and Rev. M. Brownson, Whole World Kin: Pioneer
Experience Among Remote Tribes and Other Labours of Nathan
Brown, Hubbard Brothers, Philadelphia, 1890, pp. 269-70.
58. Mackenzie, op. cit., pp. 92, 99.
59. Elwin, The Nagas in the Nineteenth Century, op. cit., p. 517.
60. S.K. Barpujari, ‘Early Christian Missions in the Naga Hills: An
Assessment of their Activities’, Journal of India History, vol. 48, 1970,
p. 430.
61. Morris, op. cit., pp. 25-6; Dena, Lal, Christian Missions and
Colonialism: A Study of Missionary Movement in North East India
with Particular Reference to Manipur and Lushai Hills, 1894-1947,
Vendrame Institute, Shillong, 1988, p. 26.
62. M.M. Clark, A Corner in India, ABPS, Philadelphia, 1907, p. 1.
63. J.F. Jyrwa, Wondrous Work of God: A Study on the Growth and
Development of the Khasi-Jaintia Presbyterian Church in the 20th
Century, M.B. Jyrwa, Shillong, 1980, p. 26.
64. J.M. Morris, The Story of Our Foreign Mission, Hugh Evans & Sons,
Liverpool, 1930, reprinted Aizawl Synod Publication Board, 1990,
p. 77.
65. Clark, op. cit., p. 14.
66. N. Rivernburg, The Star of the Naga Hills: Letters from Rev. Sidney
and Hattie Rivenburg, Pioneer Missionaries in Assam, American
Baptist Publication Society, Philadelphia, also referred to as Private
Letters of the Rivenburgs, 1941, p. 4.
67. V.H. Sword, Baptist in Assam: A Century of Missionary Service,
Conference Press. Spectrum Press, Gauhati, 1935, Reprinted 1992,
p. 93.
68. Rev. E.G. Phillips, ‘Historical Sketch of the Garo Field’, in Papers and
Discussions of Jubilee Conference of the American Baptist Missionary
Union held in Nowgong, 18-29 December, Gauhati, 1887, reprinted
in 1992, p. 54.
69. P.H. Moore, Need of a Native Ministry in Papers and Discussions of
Jubilee Conference of the American Baptist Missionary Union held
308 M. Satish Kumar

in Nowgong, 18-29 December, Gauhati, 1886, reprinted in 1992;

Phillips, ibid. p. 159.
70. Ibid.
71. Morris, History of the Western Calvinist Methodists: Foreign Mission,
op. cit., pp. 25-6; p. 54.
72. Ibid., p. 54.
73. J.M. Lloyd, On Every High Hill, Liverpool, Foreign Mission Office,
1930, p. 24.
74. T. Oldham, Calcutta Review, vol. XXVII, 1856, p. 79.
75. Dena, op. cit., p. 35.
76. Lieut. H. Yule, ‘Notes on the Khasi Hills and People’, Journal of Asiatic
Society of Bengal, vol. XII, part II, July-December 1894, p. 612.
77. Thanzauva (compiled), Report of the Foreign Missions of the
Presbyterian Church of Wales on Mizos 1894-1957, Synod, Aizawl,
1997, p. 11.
78. N.M. Krick, ‘An Account of an Expedition Among the Abors in
1853’, Journal of Asiatic Society of Bengal, vol. IX, 1939, pp. 107-22;
Elwin, The Nagas in the Nineteenth Century, Oxford University Press,
Bombay, 1969, p. xxix.
79. Elwin, ibid., p. 516.
80. Mackenzie, op. cit., pp. 92, 99.
81. Elwin, Nagaland, op. cit., p. 11.
82. Butler, op. cit., op. cit., pp. 158-64.
83. Clark, op. cit., p. 45.
84. Thanzauva (compiled), Report of the Foreign Missions of the
Presbyterian Church of Wales on Mizos 1894-1957, Synod, Aizawl,
1997, p. 47)
85. Ibid., p. 56.
86. S.A. Perrine, Report on the Nagas in the Assam Mission of the
American Baptist Missionary Union Fifth Triennial Conference,
Baptist Mission Press, Calcutta, 1899, pp. 42-4.
87. Morris, History of the Western Calvinist Methodists: Foreign Mission,
Liverpool, op. cit., pp. 156-7.
88. Moore, op. cit., p. 13.

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 CHAPTER 13

Welsh Missionaries and the

Transformation of Mizo Women
LALHMINGLIANI RALTE

When the British government took control of the Lushai Hills (now
Mizoram) after a series of expeditions and subjugating the chiefs,
it divided the hills into two areas—the North Lushai Hills with
Aijal (Aizawl) as its headquarters, and the South Lushai Hills with
Lungleh (Lunglei) or Fort Lungleh as its headquarters. The two
districts, which were about one hundred miles apart, had separate
superintendents to look after the administration. However,
this arrangement was soon discarded and on 1 April 1898, the
South Lushai Hills became a part of Assam by a government
proclamation.1 The two districts were merged into one and were
called the Lushai Hills with a single superintendent to look after
the administration. Major John Shakespear became the first
superintendent of the Lushai Hills. The sub-divisional officers and,
later, extra-assistant commissioners were left in Lungleh (Lunglei)
to look after the smooth operation of administration in the South.2
Before the merger of the two areas, the policy of governing
the hills through the chiefs was followed by the government and
was continued even after combining the two regions. The policy
followed by the British in the Lushai Hills could be clearly seen in
the letter of W.J. Reid, ICS who was the chief secretary to the chief
commissioner of Assam wherein it was stated that
our policy throughout has been to uphold the authority of the chiefs in
all legitimate directions, leaving petty disputes to be decided by them
and the village council of elders, and to administer the district with their
assistance, while at the same time restraining them from exercising their
authority in improper or undesirable ways.3
314 Lalhmingliani Ralte

This policy was in keeping with the enactment laid down by

the government for the administration of the Lushai Hills in April
1897.4 Since the governing agency was the same for the whole
region, the policies of governance followed were also invariably
the same.
The Christian missionaries had come to the Hills with a prose­
lytizing spirit. It was they who assessed the need of educating the
people in order to spread the gospel effectively. Hence their effort
required that the tribal be transformed not only in his faith but
also in his look and habit, which were un-Christian. Therefore, ‘the
history of the first 40 years of contacts has been overshadowed by
a full-scale assault upon the people by the missions, and a watch­
ing brief by government, operating chiefly without much positive
policy…’5, although some officials of the government like A.G.
McCall, superintendent of the Lushai Hills, criticized the works
of the mission by writing that ‘the changes brought about by the
missions had often been spectacular, necessarily involving attack
after attack on tradition’.6
The missionaries and the colonialists were not always on
the same page when it came to the implementation of the ideas
brought in by the British for ‘reforming’ the lives of the Mizo
women. Therefore, distinctions have been made between the two
whereever applicable in the discussion below.

Introduction of Western Education

‘In the field of education, “a school for sepoys” children has been
working at Fort Aijal since November 1893, the school master
being a military police havildar who receives a staff allowance of
Rs. 5 per month in addition to his pay. The average attendance of
children is 15, and the language taught is Hindi’.7 However, this
school was not made available for the Mizo children. Therefore,
‘provision was accordingly made in the current year’s political
budget for the starting of a school for the benefit of the Lushais
[Mizo], and sanction to the entertainment of the establishment
proposed has been applied for’.8 Despite this statement made by the
political officer of North Lushai Hills, the government was not keen
 Welsh Missionaries & Transformation of Mizo Women 315

to take up educating the people as was clearly indicated from the

political officer’s letter to the secretary to the Chief Commissioner
of Assam dated 28 January 1897. In this letter, A. Porteous, the
political officer, remarked thus, ‘I desire to point out that, although
it is now seven years since Aijal was occupied, nothing whatever
has yet been done by government in the ways of commencing to
educate the Lushais.’9
As in the north, the administrators had started schools for
children of the sepoys in the south. A school had been in existence
in Lungleh since 1894, which was ‘…maintained on subscriptions
given by the military police, assisted by an annual grant of Rs. 100
from the Chittagong Hills Tracts Primary Education Fund. The
schoolmaster’s pay is Rs. 25 monthly, and Rs. 3-8 is paid by the
school fund for his rations.’10 In this letter, Major Shakespear went
on to say that education had done a great deal for the people living
in Aijal (Aizawl) and, therefore, he wanted the same privileges to
be extended to the people of Lungleh (Lunglei). The administra­
tion of the Lakher villages too was done from Lunglei.11
The reason why the government did not take up educating the
people was its reluctance to use finances for no visible profitable
returns, as had been revealed by the same letter of A. Porteous
wherein he wrote:
… I feel confident that expenditure on education would be well repaid in
the case of Lushais. Government would certainly benefit in the admin­
istration of the hills by the springing up of a class of Lushais sufficiently
educated to act as public works muharrirs, literate constables, peons, and
the like posts, the duties of which have now to be performed either by
imperfectly-educated foreigners on high pay, whose acquaintance with
the Lushai language is of course not thorough, or by Lushais who, with
the few exceptions above noted, cannot read and write and whose ser­
vices are therefore of very limited usefulness.12

Although the government did not pay much attention towards

educating the masses in the hills, schools for the children of the
sepoys continued and some Lushai youths also joined these
institutions at their own expense. The administration saw that
educating the sons of the chiefs was in keeping with their policy of
316 Lalhmingliani Ralte

governing the area through the chiefs. Therefore, chiefs’ sons were
given importance in education to the exclusion of the rest.
The first school examination in the hills—the lower primary
examinations—were conducted on 25 June 1893. Altogether, there
were 27 candidates sitting in this examination out of which two
were girls, despite the fact that ‘…Government did not approve
of the education of the girls in Lushai being pushed forward…’13
These two Lushai girls were Nu-i and Sai-i.14 In the examination
held the next year, out of 29 candidates, 23 were successful and two
were again Lushai girls—Pawngi and Thangi.15
The government ultimately handed over the schools and educa­
tion of the people in the hills to the missions. In February 1904, the
Chief Commissioner of Assam, Sir Bamfylde Fuller, together with
the Superintendent John Shakespear, ordered the amalgamation of
the government schools with those of the missions. The commis­
sioner, apart from promising grants to the schools, appointed Rev.
Edwin Rowlands, a Welsh missionary, as the inspector of schools
in the North Lushai Hills16 and the Baptist missionaries took over
the education in the south. This arrangement continued till 1952.
The mission was given a free hand in the education of the people
and in opening of new schools, while the government kept a loose
hold through the inspector of schools and sometimes injected the
odd funds for the development of the schools. Although some of
the administrators portrayed interests in the curricula and educa­
tion of the girls, the actual work of educating the people rested in
the hands of the missionaries. Consequently, they had little say in
the matter apart from offering the few advices towards the policies
followed by the missionaries.
The desire of the government to maintain a status quo in the
hills, its reluctance to expend on education and encroach upon
the customs and tradition did little to alleviate the situation of
the women. The main aim of the administrators was to govern
the people, and changes for the betterment of the women were
effected only when it fell along the lines of their general policies of
governance. The hardships faced by the women had been acknowl­
edged by them when McCall wrote thus, ‘Without any ambiguity
Lushai has been, and still is, a country for men before it is one for
 Welsh Missionaries & Transformation of Mizo Women 317

women, or even children.’17 However, despite such statements, the

government, though very keen on giving the maximum amount of
grant to vocational and primary schools, ‘… will not touch either
women’s education or Middle English’.18 Notwithstanding these
policies however, some administrators had contributed towards
educating the girls through their own personal funds.19
The absence of positive changes being enunciated by the gov­
ernment had been justified thus, ‘The government is of opinion
that changes are only desirable with the co-operation of, and at the
wish of, the peoples of the land’.20 It even went to criticize some of
the changes which had been brought about by the other organiza­
tions working in the region by stating that, ‘It is the view of the
government that much harm is done by over-enthusiastic workers
desiring more speedy results than the magnitude of the task can
possibly permit.’21 While the government blamed the missionar­
ies for their works in the hills, the missionaries, too, blamed the
government for their inefficiency in bringing about changes that
would make Christianity more binding in the community. Some
of the missionaries remarked and criticized the policy of elitism,
racism and exclusiveness, which were followed by the administra­
tors.22 Having said this, the missionaries, too, were not immune
to the feeling of racism against the ‘natives’ as will be discussed
later. The missionaries saw the government’s refusal to introduce
the Indian Christian Marriage Act in the country as the reason for
the ‘… laxity of people …’23 in matters of marriage as the Lushais
could attain divorce easily according to the old custom.

Takeover by the Missionaries

Unlike the administrators, the missionaries who came with a
proselytizing mission and on reaching the land, began to think of
ways and means of how to convert the people towards Christianity.
While the government claimed reluctance to change the traditional
mode of life, the missionaries, in their eagerness to spread the
gospel, were not shy in changing what they believed was a heathen
way of life.
The most important impact that the two pioneer missionaries,
318 Lalhmingliani Ralte

J.H. Lorrain and F.W. Savidge (sent by the Arthington Aborigines

Mission), had on the lives of the Lushais were mainly concerned
with devising ‘… an alphabet using Roman lettering …’24 and a
compilation of the grammar of the language ‘… with a vocabu­
lary of about five thousand words …’25 The proselytizing activities
truly started when the Welsh Calvinistic Methodists’ Mission sent
D.E. Jones as their first missionary to the Lushai Hills. When Rev.
D.E. Jones reached Aizawl, he stayed with the two pioneers for a
while, learned the language from them and became oriented in the
different spheres of mission work. In February 1898, he reopened
the school that had earlier been run by the pioneers. The learners
in this school were mainly boys ‘… for Lushai boys then, as now,
were freer than the girls to please themselves’.26 He was joined by
another missionary, Rev. Edwin Rowlands, towards the end of the
year. Rowlands was deputed to look after the education side of the
mission in the North Lushai Hills.
The missionaries as well as the administrators had reiterated
the reluctance of parents to send their girls to school and according
to the census report of 1901 there were 25 women literates against
736 men.27 The work towards changing the image of the Lushai
women can be said to have begun since the coming of women
missionaries. After her marriage to Rev. D.E. Jones, a school exclu­
sively for the girls was started by Mrs Katherine Jones in 1906.
Though Lushai parents were initially reluctant to send their girls
to schools, their reluctance seemed to have been overcome by 1909
when Mrs Jones wrote thus to the superintendent of the hills, Mr
Hezlett:
From 1909 to 1912 the Girls’ School was in a flourishing state; there were
50 or more day scholars, and in addition over 20 boarders, girls from dis­
tant villages who come here to learn for a period of two or three years.…
I found that the school had been put on a sound footing and that the
prejudice existing amongst the Lushais against girls being educated had
to a great degree been overcome.28

In the report of 1920-1, it was said that

two of our girls who passed the Middle English Examination were
awarded Government scholarships tenable at the High School in Shillong.
 Welsh Missionaries & Transformation of Mizo Women 319

These two, Chawngthuami and Rosiami, and another Kaithuami, were

the first to pass this examination, and their departure to Shillong is a
landmark in the educational history of Lushai.29

Mrs Jones carried on the women side of the work single­

handedly. She continued the work of looking after the motherless
babies, a trend that was started in 1897 by the wife of John Shake-
spear, the superintendent.30 It was the custom amongst the Lushais
that when a mother died giving birth to a baby, then it, too, would
be buried alive along with its mother. Although it appeared inhu­
man, this custom ‘sprang from bitter necessity’31 and ignorance of
the people. Using milk of goats and cows as a substitute for the
mother’s milk was as yet unknown. There was a general belief
among the people that suckling a baby whose mother had died
would invariably bring misfortune to the person who suckled it.
Therefore, this humanitarian work was continued, relentlessly,
by the women missionaries. Since the time of Mrs D.E. Jones,
the Lushai girls, apart from reading and writing, were taught
sewing, both by hand and machine, and weaving. The weaving
loom and the sewing machine were given to the Jones by the
government.32
Prior to her marriage to Rev. D.E. Jones, Katherine Jones was
a missionary, too, in Sylhet. While working in Sylhet, she ‘… ran a
school about a mile from their bungalow and began lessons at 7:00
in the morning.… After three hours teaching, she would return
home and there would be gathered a considerable throng of people
who had come for medicine. In the afternoons, she visited the
Zenanas’.33 She previously had medical experiences from her father
who was a doctor. She married D.E. Jones in Calcutta and reached
Aizawl with her husband early in 1904. She continued her mis­
sionary work in her new place and started ‘… to practice certain
aspects of the mission work that had not been touched previously,
especially among the women and children’.34
The image of the Lushai women can be said to have begun its
transformation with the coming of Mrs D.E. Jones. As could be
seen from the above statement made by D.E. Jones, the women
and children were not touched upon in the mission work before
her arrival. She was assisted in her initial endeavours by a Khasi
320 Lalhmingliani Ralte

Bible woman, named Siniboni. ‘Mrs Jones started a weekly

women’s meeting which was held on Friday afternoons. Those
who attended the meeting had a chance to practise speaking in
public as well as to relate their spiritual experiences (as used to
be the practice in Wales).’35 In the daily school for the girls, she
taught general knowledge and the ‘scriptural truths’.36 These were
indeed great changes in the life of a Lushai woman; being taught
how to make public speeches and relate their spiritual experiences
can be viewed as direct challenges to how she had been perceived
in the traditional society and family. While the Lushais said, ‘As
crab meat is no meat, so a woman’s word is not word’, here she
was being taught how to make public speeches. Moreover, the
Lushai saying, ‘crabs and women have no religion’, was also being
challenged when the missionaries taught the people ‘… the essen­
tial dignity of human life according to Christ’s teaching …’37 and
women could share or relate their spiritual experiences under the
guidance of Mrs Jones. The Lushai woman began her process of
transformation from these humble beginnings. Her perception
of the traditional mode of life was being attacked in such a way
and the ‘scriptural truths’ were being fed to her as a substitute. By
1919, the works of Mrs Jones and Mrs Sandy among the women
began to show signs of progress when the Lushai women sang
solos for the first time in public at the first Grand Eisteddfod held
in Aizawl.38
Another important innovation in the Lushai Hills, introduced
by Mrs D.E. Jones in bringing about the transformation of the
women, was the Bible Women. They started the women’s meet­
ing which met every Friday and from these meetings developed
the idea of a handful of rice or rice collection. It was borrowed
from the Khasi women who had been practising it at this time.
In 1911, it was decided to build a church in the area where the
missionaries lived, Mission Veng. Mrs Jones thought of how the
women, too, could become helpful in the building of the new
church and decided to borrow the idea of rice collection from
the Khasi women. The Lushais ate two or three rice meals in a
day and ‘in a Christian household when the rice for the meal has
been measured into the cooking pot, the mother takes out as large
 Welsh Missionaries & Transformation of Mizo Women 321

a fistful she can and puts it aside into a special bin. The rice thus
collected averaged about 2 kilos a month and is presented to the
church to be sold. It brings in a substantial sum.’39 ‘In 1913, this
provided funds to enable them to appoint the first Bible-woman.’40
Women thus became important factors in the church economy.
It was, therefore, of no wonder that importance was given to the
women side of the mission and in 1924 Miss Katie Hughes was
‘…appointed to take care of what was vaguely termed “Women’s
Work”. ’41
Equipped with scriptural as well as elementary knowledge of
hygiene, the Bible Women trudged through villages, bearing their
own loads and sometimes carrying their babies on their backs,
and started work among their fellow women in different parts
of the hills. They were like bridges connecting the Mizo women
and the women missionaries. An instance of how Christianity
changed the image of the Lushai women is seen from the fact that
they even preached in front of the male dormitory or zawlbuk.
The significance of speaking in front of the zawlbuk may be
highlighted here. It could be viewed as a challenge to tribal patri­
archy. In the pre-colonial Mizo society, education and knowledge
was imparted through the oral form. Little children learned from
their parents or elders in the family and the community. While lit­
tle girls acquired knowledge from the parents and the elders of the
family and the community, zawlbuk was the ‘school’ or the place
where the boys could obtain knowledge about life and all they
required for their existence. Zawlbuk was truly a male exclusive
in a sense that women were not allowed to go near it or partici­
pate even in its construction. Kawli, a Bible Woman, on one of
her tours to villages, defied the existing custom and tradition and
preached the gospel in front of the zawlbuk. The chief of the village
chided her boldness and instigated the men to throw cowdung at
her. However, this did not deter her from continuing with her
preaching.42 Preaching in front of the dormitory could be seen as a
gesture of defying customs and conventions and that even without
the zawlbuk kind of ‘education’, women could acquire knowledge.
As a testimony to this assumption, the institution of zawlbuk
indeed soon faded out of the life of the Lushais with the spread
322 Lalhmingliani Ralte

of Western education. Education imparted to the people was not

entirely secular education as it was left in the hands of the mis­
sions, both in the north and the south. All things connected with
the life of the Lushais prior to the British incursion were viewed
as heathen by the missionaries who wanted to do away with them.
Therefore, a negative attitude towards their traditional institutions
was instilled in the minds of the people and the need to change
the existing system became paramount in the minds of both the
converted educated people and the missionaries. It can be said that
education, which came in the wake of Christianity, brought about
the end of the zawlbuk in the Lushai life, although the missionaries
did not attribute to Christianity the bringing about of its end.43 In
its place, an organization, which was both Western and Christian,
called the Young Lushai Association (YLA), later changed to the
Young Mizo Association (YMA), was instituted for the youths. On
3 June 1935, some missionaries and educated Lushais assembled
at the bungalow of Miss Katie Hughes and decided to form an
organization of the Lushais. In following with the Young Wales
Association, it was suggested that this organization be named the
Young Lushai Association (YLA).44
The membership to this new organization was opened to all
Lushai, male as well as female. Whereas the zawlbuk was exclu­
sively a male domain, the YLA, which replaced it, was open to all
regardless of sex. However, the aims of the association as well as
the rules for membership reflected the Christianness of the new
association.45
Missionary wives had an important place in the whole evange­
lizing project. In keeping with the recommendations made by the
missionary convention, they were prepared for their lives in mis­
sion fields. Though she was not paid for her labours, a missionary’s
wife, who was usually a trained teacher or nurse, ‘… along with
non-professional wives, were routinely absorbed into primary
education, social work, midwifery, home economics or Sunday
school work. They were also to become very active in the Mis­
sion’s war effort’.46 Mrs Jones’ pioneering work among the Lushai
women was continued by the wives of missionaries like Mrs Gwen
Mendus, Mrs Maggie Sandy, Mrs Muriel Edwards, Mrs Roberts,
 Welsh Missionaries & Transformation of Mizo Women 323

Mrs Joan Lloyd and others, who were all instrumental in bring­
ing about changes in the daily life of the Lushai women they came
in contact with. However, momentous changes in the lives of the
women came when the women missionaries continued and built
the Girls’ School started by Mrs Jones.
In 1922, the first lady missionary to the North Lushai Hills
was sent in the person of Miss Alice Catherine Mostyn Lewis. Miss
Lewis, better known as Kitty Lewis, became the headmistress of the
school for girls. She was a graduate and had a certificate in teach­
ing. She previously had varied experiences in France and Britain.
She was sponsored not by the Welsh Calvinistic Methodists’ Mis­
sion but by her father, Sir Herbert Lewis who was a member of the
British parliament.47 Soon after taking charge of the Girls’ School
as headmistress, she structured the class and divided it into two
sections—lower primary and middle section. During school holi­
days she toured the villages and went as far as the Burma and the
Manipur borders.48 On such tours, she encouraged the people to
send their girls to schools and informed them that she was will­
ing to look after them without burdening the parents for fees.49
Moreover, on such tours, she also taught the women basic sanitary
and health issues. After working thus for a year, by May 1923, there
were about 80 girls in the school ranging from ages 5 to 16.50 In
1925, a boarding house was constructed with a gift she received
from a mission-minded man from home51 and it housed 20 girls.
She stated that in her school, in addition to the ordinary lessons,
the girls were also taught how to be better Christians, wives and
mothers.52 ‘The lapse of the government in providing female edu­
cation to the people of the hills and prioritizing the education of
chiefs’ sons was taken a step further when she opened the hostel
of the girls’ school. Several of the boarders were chiefs’ daughters
who will probably marry chiefs and have great influence in their
villages.’53
That female education was one of the chief concerns of the
mission was evident from the letters which the missionaries sent
home urging the secretary of the foreign mission to take more
actions in promoting the cause of women in the Lushai Hills by
sending more lady missionaries to the area.54 In his letter to Mr
324 Lalhmingliani Ralte

Thomas, Rev. David Edwards further stated that ‘… since the prog­
ress of the present revival movement shows how much we need an
enlightened womanhood to act as a steadying influence on Lushai
life’.55
In response to the call made by the earlier missionaries for
women to look after the women’s side of the mission in the field,
the headquarters back home sent them to the area. Continuing
the work of Kitty Lewis, the next woman missionary Miss Katie
Hughes made tremendous contributions towards the cause of
women in the North Lushai Hills. Miss Hughes arrived in Aizawl
on 23 December 1924, and returned to Britain in 1962. Before
coming to the hills, she underwent medical training at the Living-
stone College in London. This training proved to be beneficial as it
was four years before the arrival of the next mission doctor.
The Women of Lushai Today56 written by Miss Hughes reflected
the desire of the Lushai women and girls for learning. The crowd
was always big at the girls’ school, therefore, specific dates were set
aside for the women to come on Tuesdays and Thursdays. These
meetings began with short services, which were led by the women
themselves. The Lushai woman had begun to shed her passive role
imposed by customs and tradition and had begun to speak out for
herself. These gatherings and meetings organized by the women
missionaries provided perfect opportunities for her.
Miss Hughes remained the headmistress of the Girls Middle
School for 20 years. She introduced innovative methods of teaching
that were found to have brought about progress in the learners. On
her furloughs, she visited several chapels back home and delivered
speeches on the work in North Lushai Hills. ‘She could sell ideas.
She sold the ideas of women’s education to the general public so
that it became the custom rather than the exception for girls to go
to school …’57 and ‘… through her work it came to be recognized
not only that girls could learn but that they should be given the
opportunity to study. During her lifetime, she saw the transition
to a large number of matriculants (sic) and graduates and also
most women in the villages being able to read and write.…’58 The
Girls’ School was praised profusely by the then director of public
instructions, Mr A.G. Small, who thought it to be the best Middle
 Welsh Missionaries & Transformation of Mizo Women 325

School in the province.59 Miss Hughes also started the Girl Guide
Movement in the Hills. Lushai girls now took part in adventures,
picnics and games as guides. It could be said that for some Lushai
women, the process of transformation began from their school
days.
Miss Gwen Rees Roberts arrived in 1944 to become the head­
mistress of the Welsh Mission Girls School. The missionaries
encouraged academic excellence in their learners as they believed
it to be a means for social mobility. Moreover, ‘… they also saw it
as a means of freeing non-Christians from what were considered
to be their backward traditional cultures’.60 Along this vein Miss
Roberts had written that, ‘In the Aijal Girls’ School an attempt is
being made to give the girls something a good deal wider than
that through teaching the more cultural subjects as well as the
purely academic ones. From time to time there are complaints
from the general public because the girls are taught to weave or to
do domestic science rather than geometry. We believe, however,
that if we stick to our ideal, we shall be doing more for the future
women and mothers of Lushai than we could in the other way.’61
Therefore, the curriculum of the Girls’ School included domestic
works like weaving, sewing, cooking, cleanliness and looking after
babies and invalids.62 ‘It was hoped that by educating females,
Christian values would eventually pervade tribal … family life.’63
The Western education and the new form of worship changed
the image of the women at a rapid pace. The missionaries, too,
found out that the women had come out in all spheres of life that
it became necessary to broaden the school curriculum in order to
meet their growing needs.64 Initially, as instructed from the head­
quarters in Liverpool, the curriculum of the school was made as
practical as possible ‘… with emphasis on Health Teaching, and
such practical things as weaving, gardening, cooking, etc’.,65 so that
after receiving such education, the girls ‘… will be able to return
home and lift the village out of its deep need’.66
In Lunglei, the Baptist missionaries, J.H. Lorrain and F.W. Sav­
idge, set up the Mission Station in Serkawn and started a school
where the majority of learners were boys. A boarding school for
girls was started in 1904 by them but it was not a success as it
326 Lalhmingliani Ralte

failed to educate women. Although they tried to revive the school

in 1907, it did not receive a favourable response. In 1913, Mr Lor-
rain lamented about this to Mr Hezlett, the superintendent of the
Lushai Hills, thus,
We have a very great difficulty in South Lushai in obtaining pupils for
our Girls’ Boarding School. We have excellent buildings and accom­
modation for at least 14 or 15, but have only three in residence. Down
here female education is regarded as being of very little worth compared
with the work which the girls are able to do at home in helping their
parents.67

The wives of these two missionaries helped their husbands in

teaching the few girl-boarders. Apart from the book education,
the girls were given practical lessons in the classroom as well as
the hostel. The main job of teaching and looking after the girls
in the hostel was undertaken by a Christian Lushai woman who
had passed her Lower Primary Education in Aizawl and Mrs Lor-
rain also helped by teaching them to sew.68 ‘It was not until 1921
that organized education was possible amongst the girls at all.…’69
The difference between the North and South Lushai Hills in con­
nection with women’s work was that, in South Lushai Hills, the
Women’s Missionary Association in London took up the cause of
the women in this area and women missionaries were appointed
and sent with the specific aim of taking up the women side of the
mission’s work.70 Therefore, beginnings in the process of change
in the life of a woman started with the arrival of Miss Edith Chap­
man in 1919 to look after the education of the girls. Miss Chapman
studied in the University of London and possessed a remarkable
energy, rare courage and was gifted with an excellent power of
speech.71 Before coming to the Lushai Hills, she had studied the
Montessori Method of Education and had taught in a school in
Hampstead.72 Armed with such knowledge and with the desire to
instill among the Lushai women the ‘… understanding of Christian
standards of womanhood, wifehood, and motherhood’,73 a school
was started exclusively for the girls in South Lushai.
The school curriculum was framed in such a way that ‘… the
education given shall not unfit the girls for their strenuous jungle
lives…’74 but rather make ‘… the girls more useful wives and
 Welsh Missionaries & Transformation of Mizo Women 327

mothers when they got back to their villages…’75 Therefore,

importance was given ‘… to practical subjects such as gardening,
handicrafts, cookery, weaving, washing, etc.’76 Miss Chapman also
opened ‘…the school for seven or eight months in the year only,
thus giving the children an opportunity of helping at home in
the busiest seasons.…’77 Miss Burton helped by teaching the girls
household duties, gardening and farming.78 In the Lushai family,
basket weaving from bamboo was done by the men. However,
this craft, which was exclusively male, was also encroached upon
whence girls in the mission school began to learn basket making
from bamboo and cane. The image of drudgery and servitude
was being gradually transformed when two girl boarders from
the mission school expressed their desire to follow specialized
studies—one as a nurse and the other as a teacher.79 By 1923, five
Lushai girls were in training to be nurses80 in the dispensary run
by the mission. In 1920, two Lushai women trained to become
Bible Women; they received training both in the scriptures and on
medicines from the missionaries before setting out to villages in
the outlying areas. The number of Bible Women, too, rose in 1923
from two to four.
There is a saying among the Lushais which goes thus, ‘Wom­
an’s word is no word just as crab meat is no meat.’ Women did
not have a voice in family and community matters. This bondage
of silence was gradually broken with the introduction of educa­
tion exclusively for them and the incorporation of reading and
composition classes. These were done with the aim of making the
girls proficient enough to read aloud to the people in the villages
and the churches. After attending schools, the image of the girls
underwent a change: from being silent listeners, they were now
becoming voices themselves, voices which read out to the people
in the villages and the church. In Mizo Miracle, Chapman and
Clark had written that making the girls read, conduct the school
morning prayers, the Sunday worship and encouraging them to
take Sunday School classes were all processes in moulding the
images of the woman so that she could stand up for herself in get­
ting her rightful place in the society with no help from outsiders.81
The aim of the women missionaries to achieve successes, not only
in examinations but in bringing out the best in a girl was pursued
328 Lalhmingliani Ralte

diligently by them. It was based on these aims and objectives that

the Lushai woman began her process of transformation.
The missionaries, both in the north and the south, borrowed
their teaching techniques and school curriculum from each other.
When Rev. David Edwards from the north visited the south, he
was impressed with the way education was being carried out for
the girls in the south by Miss Chapman and her colleagues. He
wrote home to the secretary in Liverpool and commented that the
missionaries in the South ‘…teach better womanhood as their first
consideration. Cooking on better but Lushai lines is taught’. It is
not a matter of everyday lessons in schools so much as the way
they do their everyday cooking for their own needs in their hos­
tels that counts. They always have four or five orphans whom they
tend and rear. They are fed from milk given by their own goats and
cows. The girls learn to wash the babies, tend them in sickness, and
to make clothes for them. They make clothes for every conceivable
member of Lushai society. They weave every cloth that is known
in Lushai and many that are new. They knit with cotton and wool.
Their education is entirely on different lines from the boys.82 He
urged the home office to seriously consider the question of female
education in North Lushai along these lines. It was not surprising,
therefore, to find the women of both the areas emerging as viable
forces in the society at the same period of time.
A Lushai baby adopted by the women missionaries in the
South was Lalziki, called Ziki by everyone. She was brought and
given to the missionaries by her father when she was four months
old and her mother had died. The government had forbidden
killing of babies upon the death of their mothers. Therefore, Ziki
became a part of the missionary household. When they went home
on furlough, little Ziki traveled with Miss Clark and Miss Chap­
man to Britain.83 She became an important connection between
the missionaries and the indigenous women. The Lushai women
became more open when they saw the two women missionaries
with a Lushai child and they became more receptive towards their
teachings. Ziki was educated in Calcutta and, after her matricula­
tion, attended the Women’s Christian College in Madras in south
India. She obtained her master’s degree in education and was fired
 Welsh Missionaries & Transformation of Mizo Women 329

with zeal to help her own people. ‘She was then appointed by the
government of Assam as principal of the Basic Education Centre
in Aizawl. She was there for over 10 years. After that she was sent
as the first member of her tribe to be a professor in a postgradu­
ate training college in Assam. From there, she was promoted to
be assistant inspectress of schools for girls in the hills of Assam,
having her headquarters in Shillong.’84 The story of Ziki and other
women reflected the changes brought into the life of a Lushai
woman due to education.
Like in the North Lushai Hills, the ‘handful of rice’ collec­
tion was also started by the women in South Lushai Hills. This
collection was done to support the Bible Women as in North Lus­
hai Hills. It was started in 1920 when only one Bible woman was
appointed.85 The number increased to two in the following year
and these women received training from the women missionar­
ies before moving out to the neighbouring villages to spread the
gospel, and teach the women folk on how to look after themselves,
their household and the babies. In 1922, the number of women
evangelists yet again increased to four. These women attended
classes on the Bible and also undertook specialized training in
nursing and teaching.
Further south in Maraland, the land of the Mara people, the
pioneer missionaries Rev. Reginald Lorrain and his wife worked
towards converting the people to Christianity. ‘The Lakhers or
Maras are a hill tribe closely related to the Lai tribe of the Chins.’86
Before they were taken over by the British government, they were
continually raiding among themselves and the neighbouring
tribes.
Living side by side with them, learning their language and ‘by
means of his medical knowledge, Mr Lorrain gained the confi­
dence of many of these wild and sturdy hill men and whilst helping
them bodily was able to preach to them Christ Jesus’.87 Mr Lorrain
was soon able to teach a few of the villagers how to read and write.
However, that girls’ education was paid scant attention towards is
evidenced by the letter written by Lt Col G.H. Loch to Mr Lorrain,
wherein he stated, ‘I noticed the absence of girls in your classes. I
suppose it is too soon yet in the history of your mission…’; in the
330 Lalhmingliani Ralte

same letter, this British administrator urged the mission to take up

the issue of girls’ education when he wrote,
… but I am confident that, with your wife, who knows the language so
well, and who is so sympathetically inclined towards the people, it must
be the wish of both of you that girl students will come in time. If we are to
improve the home surroundings of these hill tribes, we must educate the
women and work through them. Women may not have, in these hills, the
same influence among the community or in family life that they possess
in more civilized countries, but I am confident that the more we civilize
and rise (sic) the status of women the better the condition of the people
will be, both from the material and moral point of view.88

Having said this, the government did nothing in educating

the people of this area. There were no government schools except
those run by the Lakher Pioneer Mission. The area was totally
neglected by the government even in the field of medicine.
The Lakher Pioneer Mission, on arrival to the area, took up
the onerous task of reducing the language to writing using the
Roman script. Apart from this task, the missionaries also took up
the medicinal side of the mission work. Therefore, in spite of the
urgings of the administrator for a formal education for the girls,
it was introduced only in 1929. However, before a separate school
was started, the wife of Mr Lorrain, Mrs Maud Lorrain, gave an
informal sewing class to the women of the mission compound in
Saikao (Serkawr) once a week, every Thursday, since 1917 ‘… until
material could no longer be obtained’.89 These sewing classes were
always preceded by a short service when Mrs Lorrain imparted
scriptural knowledge to the women present. Moreover, ‘at four p.m.
each day medicine is distributed by Mrs Lorrain. Many have been
the lives that have been saved and restored to health through…
this part of the work. Just as a doctor is called up at all times of the
night, so there are often occasions when someone is taken seri­
ously ill and the missionaries are knocked up in the middle of the
night to give medicine or go down and try and give relief to the
sick one’.90 The government of India awarded her the Kaiser-i-Hind
medal in honour of her work among the Lakher people.
 Welsh Missionaries & Transformation of Mizo Women 331

Compared to the neighbouring Lushai women, the Mara or

Lakher women seemed to have been lesser of ‘… mere household
drudges—a married woman has a clearly defined position, and
inside the house she is supreme.’91 This was the view of the British
administrators and the missionaries, too, seemed to have held the
same view. The notion that the social relations between the men
and the women were the same seemed to have played an impor­
tant role in the policy followed by the missionaries towards female
education and this may have been the reason for the late introduc­
tion of a school exclusively for the girls of the area. Another reason
might have been the dearth of funds.92 The Lakher Pioneer Mis­
sion was an independent inter-denominational mission funded by
donations from like-minded people in the United Kingdom, while
the Baptist Mission in Lunglei and the Welsh Mission in North
Lushai Hills were funded from well-established and organized
churches in Britain.
A combined girls’ school and kindergarten was started in 1929
and was looked after by the daughter of the pioneer missionaries,
Louise Tlosai Lorrain who in 1934 became Mrs. Lorrain-Foxall.
She was assisted by another lady missionary, Miss Irene E. Hadley,
who stayed till 1934. However, this side of the mission work was
put to an end by the war. Although it was resumed afterwards, it
ran only until the end of 1947 when the government took over the
schools in Maraland and made them co-educational. The enrol­
ment in the Girls’ School rose steadily since its inception and,
according to the report of 1935, the number of girl learners had
risen to 60.
Further work among the Mara girls was in the Sunday School.
Miss Irene Hadley described a typical Sunday School in a newslet­
ter wherein she wrote,
…[the girls were] sorted into two classes in the school-house. Miss Lor-
rain has all the older ones on one side, while I take the smaller ones on
the other. Together we numbered about 40 girls and we both find the
afternoons are never long enough to get all the work we would wish done.
Miss Lorrain’s girls are all those who have been out at the jhum farm­
ing all the week, so she spends the first part of her time helping them
332 Lalhmingliani Ralte

to read and write, and ends by teaching scriptures and new hymns and
explaining their meanings.… The smaller girls, however, are all able to
come up to day school, and are learning to read and write quite nicely,
so on Sunday afternoons these are able to give all the time to Scripture
and hymns and they enjoy learning choruses with action, or new hymns.
Then follows a short talk on a Bible lesson, and the learning by heart of a
text round which the lesson centres.93

These classes on Sunday afternoons were the times when

the missionaries were truly in touch with the lives of the girls by
having heart-to-heart talks. ‘The work has, like all others, its disap­
pointments and occasionally we find that a girl merely comes to
Sunday School so as to be able to enter the sewing class and get a
coat.… Then we get others who attend for a short time and then
are persuaded by their families not to come anymore.’94
N.E. Parry, a British administrator who was anxious to help
the people in the Lushai Hills, had admitted that missions in dif­
ferent parts of the hills were more instrumental in bringing about
changes in the lives of the people than the government. He was
not against the development of the people per se, but believed that
development should ‘… not in any way Europeanise them…’95
He had sung praises for the Lakher Pioneer Mission because he
believed that this mission did not change the lives of the people
they converted. He had written thus, ‘The Lakhers have not been
affected by the mission in the same way as the Lusheis, for although
a mission has been established at Saiko for nearly 20 years, it has
made comparatively little headway. As yet the Lakher mission has
done little or no harm, and has in certain directions done much
good.’96
The observations made by Parry that the Lakher mission had
done little in changing the lives of the people seemed to have been
true in the case of their women, too. As mentioned earlier, the
reasons for the neglect of work amongst the women might have
been the financial situation of the mission or because the position
enjoyed by the women in the family and the community was not as
that of the Lushai women that it needed change. The first woman
to have passed her lower primary did so only after Independence,
in 1955.
 Welsh Missionaries & Transformation of Mizo Women 333

Introduction of Western Health Care

The Lushai understanding of diseases and illnesses were connected
with the spirits and the spirit world. They believed that sickness or
ill health befell a person due to the displeasure of a spirit or spirits
or because of some anti-social crimes committed by them. For
instance, tuberculosis was believed to be a consequence of crimes
‘such as theft, unusual cruelty or the fouling of a village spring’.97
When an illness befell a person, it was believed that the spirits had
to be appeased in order to cure the person. Cures were therefore
sought by propitiating the concerned spirits.
The living and working conditions of the people were not con­
ducive to a healthy life and as such infant mortality was very high.98
In fact, it was the general belief that a first-born will not survive to
become an adult.99 The people had an enormous amount of faith in
sacrifices and indigenous medicines and when the government set
up dispensaries and hospitals in several parts of the hills, they were
viewed with distrust and the officials had a hard time in remov­
ing the prejudices the people had on modern medicines. The
government tried to do away with these prejudices of the people
especially towards vaccination. In order to do so, it appointed Lus­
hai vaccinators to vaccinate the people against smallpox. However,
the Lushai apathy towards this disease too took a long time to be
overcome by the medicines introduced by the rulers.
The setting up of government outposts in several areas of
the Lushai Hills necessitated the opening of dispensaries if not
for the benefit of the indigenous people but for the government
employees stationed in these areas. In the report given in 1899 by
the civil surgeon in Aizawl, Captain Mac Leod, there were alto­
gether four government civil dispensaries, one station hospital
and four military police outpost hospitals in the hills.100 Although
the report lamented upon the weakness of the medical staff espe­
cially in the Aizawl dispensary, the civil surgeon Mac Leod worked
towards gaining the confidence of the people. It was noted that
soon after there was a fivefold increase in the number of Lushai
patients treated in the Aizawl dispensary.101 The need for a change
in the lifestyle of the people was also being reiterated in the official
334 Lalhmingliani Ralte

newsletter of the government called the Mizo leh Vai Chanchinbu.102

Through these newsletters, the government also spread awareness
among the people about the status of the women in the commu­
nity and the need to change their status and image. The educated
people, who hitherto had no knowledge that the condition of their
women was low, began to think along these lines and made use of
the newsletter to spread it to the masses.
The chief medical officer of the government made inspec­
tion trips to the dispensaries lying in different areas. The reports,
prepared and submitted to the superintendent of the Lushai Hills,
reflected the works done by the chief medical officer towards the
betterment of sanitation in the villages he visited. Apart from
inspecting the beds in the dispensaries along with the medicines
and operation tools, he made visits to the local markets or bazaars
to look into the raw products being sold there. Water from the
wells, which were being consumed by the whole village, was also
inspected. Insufficiencies were noted and reported to the chief of
the village or to the superintendent for further action. These actions
taken by the government in the field of medicine began to break
the faith of the people in sacrifices and indigenous medicines and
the government records showed an increase in the number of Lus­
hai outdoor and indoor patients in the dispensaries and hospital.103
The government also encouraged the setting up of the Village Wel­
fare Committees under the aegis of the Red Cross Society which
had begun to function in the area. The main objective of the gov­
ernment in setting up these committees was to ‘… help towards the
improvement of fooding, hygiene, health, child welfare, anti-natal
and post-natal care…’104 The government kept vigil on the work­
ings of these committees by making the civil surgeon ‘… as the
final technical adviser to the district Red Cross committee’.105 The
membership of the welfare committee in each village consisted
of the village chief along with two men and women of ordinary
standing; the inclusion of the women was justified by McCall as
an ‘encouragement to the chief and to the people to accord a better
status to their women, and to take a more intelligent interest in
all matters affecting the common enemy, namely, disease’.106 It was
also mentioned that that the government had hopes of alleviating
 Welsh Missionaries & Transformation of Mizo Women 335

the condition of the ‘Lushai womanhood’.107 This action of the gov­

ernment may be viewed as an action to bring some relief towards
the improvement of the status of women as well as of the health of
the women in the community, who had no idea about ante- and
post-natal care. However, the government on saying this did not
make the establishment of welfare committees an obligatory duty
for the chiefs and ‘if he does not wish to form a committee, there
is no official pressure’.108
It may be appropriate to point out here the observation made
by J. Shakespear in a letter where he wrote that the chiefs were
rather willing to beg and ‘the people are quite ready to accept
favours, but will take no trouble to improve themselves. If a dis­
pensary is put in their village, they will gladly attend, but they will
not walk a few miles to do so; if a man is sick and his friends are
told to carry him a day or two’s journey to hospital, where his cure
is certain, they won’t do so unless forced to’.109 Apart from Shake-
spear, his successor as superintendent, Major H.W.G. Cole, too,
had the same notion about the Lushais when he wrote, ‘But their
intelligence is allied to extreme indifference—an indifference that
prevents a man going a mile or two to a dispensary after he had
been badly mauled by a wild beast…’110 These clearly showed the
Lushai’s suspicion of Western medicines. The people had their own
traditional medicines, which were locally available. The colonial
ethnographers and the missionaries failed to mention the various
cures available to a Lushai, which had been handed down by word
of mouth. It may be pointed out here that in 1984, the Mizoram Upa
Pawl (MUP) or the Association of the Elderly sent out requests to
its 175 branches throughout Mizoram, urging them to send a list
of the traditional Mizo medicine that they know of, and which has
been handed down from generation. The request met with enthu­
siastic response and the headquarters of the association was able
to bring out the Thurawn Bu or Advice to the Public by MUP. The
booklet identified 228 diseases and ailments and their cures,111 and
there was a whole section dedicated to cures for ailments in rela­
tion to childbirth and other gynaecological problems.
Added to the suspicion of the people towards Western medi­
cine was the presence of the Lushai ethical code of conduct known
336 Lalhmingliani Ralte

as tlawmngaihna. It was a moral code of conduct or a code of ethics

and was visible in every sphere of Lushai life. Every Lushai aspired
to have a life filled with tlawmngaihna and was handed from gen­
eration through action and oral traditions. It pervaded the lives of
the people right from the time when they were children and were
carried on till the time of death. Tlawmngaihna entailed sacrific­
ing one’s comfort and pleasure for the well-being of others and the
community as a whole. It also entailed a person’s refusal to trouble
or bring trouble to his neighbours and the community. A person
was said to be tlawmngai when he or she followed this moral code
of ethics or conduct. Tlawmngaihna could be seen at different times
in the lives of the people. When a person needed medical atten­
tion, and had to be carried to a place to get the needed assistance,
he would be carried by the young men of the village on a stretcher
made locally. At such times, the sick person would, because of
tlawmngaihna, refuse to be carried by others because he disliked
causing trouble to the neighbours while the young men will invari­
ably try to do so because of the moral code of conduct. In times of
death, too, a person who had died in another village will be carried
thus to his village for the burial. While passing some other villages
on the way to the dead man’s village, the youths of the village will
try to snatch the stretcher from the carriers and sometimes some
minor troubles even ensued as to who would carry the dead body
or the sick person to the final destination. Therefore, the refusal of
the people to go to the dispensaries to get the medical assistance
sprang out of tlawmngaihna and a distrust of allopathic medicines
and not out of indifference or laziness as had been noted by the
colonial rulers.112
Moreover, this ‘tlawmngaihna implies a context of indepen­
dence and self-sufficiency’;113 therefore, begging had always been
viewed as a slur on the community and the family. When a per­
son or a family fell on hard times, the community would stick
together to help them out. Tlawmngaihna made the people try to
be self-sufficient and not be a burden on the society and this same
tlawmngaihna made the community ready to help those in need.
Widows and fatherless families had been helped by the community
and their relatives even in constructing houses for their residence.
 Welsh Missionaries & Transformation of Mizo Women 337

The whole community would set aside a day for the construction
or repair of their houses. Therefore, while the moral code of con­
duct prevented people from accepting favours but would help a
fellow human being to lighten his or her load, the colonial writers
have misconstrued what they had seen in the lives of the Lushais.
Tlawmngaihna was not an exclusive of the men alone. The
Lushai women excelled in it, too. They were not allowed to think
of themselves but contributed to the family and the community
as much as they could. A woman would not show favours to any
young man who came to court her because of tlawmngaihna. Even
though tired after working in the jhum the whole day, she would
not show her tiredness when young men came to court her at
night. At the later phase of the colonial rule, the administrators,
too, acknowledged the importance of this spirit of conduct and
found it desirous to foster it within their midst.114

Mission and Health Care

An important auxiliary to education was medicine. To the
imperial mind the spread of Western medicines to other countries
and cultures were considered to be blessings brought about by the
imperial rule. ‘However, missionary medicine was not a simple
humanitarian gesture promising to relieve sickness, suffering and
disease; in missionary hands medical interventions were designed
not only to care and cure but also to Christianise.’115 Mission boards
had discovered that missionary medicine was the ‘most impressive
and persuasive means of presenting the gospel message to the
peoples of other cultures and other faiths’.116 Thus, missionaries
going to mission fields were given training on the basics of diseases
and medicines. Once its importance was acknowledged, the
Protestant churches began to send large medical missionary forces
to different parts of the world. At the turn of the twentieth century,
the equation of male to female medical missionaries was equal but
by 1912, of the 335 medical missionaries posted in India, 217 were
women. This disparity reflected ‘the high priority given to women’s
medical work as a means of reaching India’s female population’.117
On their tours of the villages, D.E. Jones and Edwin Rowlands
338 Lalhmingliani Ralte

found that the people suffered from various diseases and the call
for a healing ministry was indeed great.118 Therefore, medicines
were sold by the missionaries on such preaching tours.119 Great
headway in medical mission was made with the setting up of a
small dispensary in the mission compound and on the arrival of
Dr Peter Fraser in 1908. He got down to work among the people
and tried to remove their prejudices over Western medicines. At
the beginning of the year 1909, his patients were treated in a small
tent. In his report, Dr Fraser had written that in the twelve months,
23,919 patients had been treated by him. He claimed that the
medical work had been an excellent opportunity for ‘sowing the
seed’120 and ‘… that most of the patients, after a stay in the hospital,
have willingly given their names as believers in Christ, and also
tried to lead others to Him’.121
The beginnings made by Dr Fraser were continued by later
missionaries. There was no missionary doctor in the area for quite
a while after Dr Fraser, and the medical side of the mission was
looked after by a nurse, Winifred M. Jones. The coming of Dr John
Williams was an event of great rejoicing.122 Importance was given
to the healing of the people, and though the dispensary continued
in Aizawl, a new hospital was also constructed under his supervi­
sion in Durtlang. Lushai girls were trained here as nurses with the
hope that they will be able to help people in faraway villages.
This initial endeavour of the mission was carried further by
Miss Gwladys Evans and Dr Gwyneth P. Roberts. They continued
the nurses’ training schools at the hospital in Durtlang. In fact, the
hospital was the only training school for nurses and midwives in
the whole district. These two women missionaries were respon­
sible for laying the groundwork of the training school. Textbooks
were prepared by them and translated into the Mizo language.
Initially students who had passed their Class VI could train as a
nurse but later, girls who have passed Class VIII were taken for
the senior certificate. In order to apply to become a trainee nurse,
an applicant needed to bring a note from their church confirming
their membership along with their educational certificate and a
reference letter.123 As May Bounds wrote, the number of applicants
 Welsh Missionaries & Transformation of Mizo Women 339

to become trainee increased tremendously. It was the policy of the

selection committee to select girls who had come from remote vil­
lages so they could be pioneers in their villages.124
Apart from their works in the hospital, Dr Gwyneth Roberts
and Miss Evans undertook vaccination tours to several villages,
and when they were not busy giving vaccinations, they gave talks
on hygiene, first aid, home nursing, etc. These talks, especially on
hygiene, were listened to attentively by the villagers. However, they
pointed out to the missionaries that such things cannot be car­
ried out in a Mizo village.125 Therefore, Miss Evans strongly felt
the need to show the possibility of raising the standard of living
in the villages and decided to ‘… live there, under the same condi­
tions, in the same type of house.…’126 Therefore, in order to meet
the needs of villagers unable to come to Durtlang, and to raise the
living standards of the people, Miss Evans started out to villages to
open health centres in four places—Sawleng, Pukzing, Chhawrtui
and Sihfa. While on her tours to these villages, Miss Evans not only
provided medical care to the women through these centres, but
also delivered talks on various topics like ‘… the woman’s place in
the church. They want to know all about the women of Wales and
their position in the church, especially regarding ordination.…’127
These centres in the villages set up by the mission were women-
oriented as was seen from the writings of Miss Evans who ‘… often
visited the surrounding villages, and tried to examine all children,
pregnant women and nursing mothers for signs of vitamin defi­
ciency and under nourishment’.128
The nursing staff to these centres, since they work in places
where there were no doctors, were often in a position to test their
skills, and they were met from those that received training from
the hospital at Durtlang. ‘They diagnosed, gave treatment and care
and supplied the medication. Midwifery cases were attended to
day or night and public health teaching and preventive medicine
was incorporated with the duties.’129
Miss Hughes started a child welfare clinic as a means to help
the Lushai mothers. Babies were weighed in this place and Miss
Hughes took this opportunity to explain to them
340 Lalhmingliani Ralte

… the principles of health and hygiene. The mothers from the village
were invited to come on weekly visits, and it became a social centre for
them.130
[Miss Hughes] would call the children and their mothers together,
bathing and weighing the children and recording their weight and height
on the chart. It was her custom to award prizes to the healthiest and
the best-developed children. She even bathed the mothers who were
not clean enough. In recognition of her welfare work the government
awarded her the Kaisar-i-Hind.131

There is no denying the fact that the works of the mission­

aries, especially the women missionaries, and to some extent the
government, had been instrumental in bringing about the gradual
transformation of the Lushai women in North Lushai Hills. The
missionaries came with a firm belief that ‘Christianity is going to
uplift the people of this country in every way’.132 Therefore, they
worked relentlessly towards bringing about the ‘uplift’ of the peo­
ple. This task of social transformation, which they placed upon
themselves, was mainly carried out through education and medi­
cal works, and the Lushai women seemed to have been the most
affected by these changes.
In the South, too, the cause of the Lushai women was taken
up by the missionaries, even in the field of medicine when Nurse
Dicks arrived. The women missionaries set up a ‘ward’ in their
bungalow where women and girls were treated before a proper
women’s ward could be built in the mission hospital. It was in this
ward that the nurses received training from the missionary nurse.
The women missionaries also adopted motherless babies and
these babies later became instrumental in effecting a change in the
image of their fellow Lushai women. Soon after the arrival of the
lady missionaries to Lungleh, they were helped by a Lushai girl,
Thangchhumi, who was eager to learn. Thangchhumi, or Chhumi
as she was called, lived with her mother and they had converted
to Christianity upon the teachings of Rev. J.H. Lorrain. She stayed
with the ladies and studied under them while at the same time she
taught them the language, the culture and tradition of her people.
She became the most important instrument in the running of the
kindergarten, the nursery and home for the motherless babies. She
 Welsh Missionaries & Transformation of Mizo Women 341

would visit the neighbouring villages and live there for some time,
‘… partly for school work but also to help the people in every­
way’.133 She lived near the mission station even after her marriage
and continued to provide assistance to the lady missionaries. She
started a motherless babies’ home in her house with the help of her
husband, and helped the lot of her fellow womenfolk in every pos­
sible way she could think of. Chhumi extended her work and took
in expectant mothers to try and save both them and their babies.
Soon women were coming to her from all parts of the district. She
examined them all and did what she could for them, usually keep­
ing them in her home till the birth of the child, and after, as long
as she thought it advisable. She gave sound advice to the moth­
ers on their own health and habits and on how to bring up their
children.134 The help rendered to the expectant mothers brought to
light the fact that the lot of the Lushai women, as understood and
portrayed by the colonial writers and the missionaries, were not
justified. The argument which could come up in this connection
is that, while these writers wrote that the women worked and did
their normal duties right until the baby was born and immedi­
ately after delivery, if they could stay on in Chhumi’s house even
before the delivery and after to be looked after by Chhumi and
her husband, the whole picture painted by them may have to be
reassessed.
The first trained Lushai nurse, Lalsiami, went out in 1925 from
the mission compound in the south to help her fellow women in a
village, which was one of the largest in South Lushai Hills. She has
been able to give real help in several midwifery cases, and has won
her way into the hearts of the women by her care for the babies,
especially during a serious outbreak of whooping cough. She has
held ‘baby welfare’ classes for the mothers, and taught the big girls
to make babies’ vests, and also taken classes in the school, includ­
ing hygiene.135
The ideas of health, hygiene and cleanliness were militarily
enforced by the missionaries on the new converts. Mission Veng
in Aizawl and some villages like Theiriat were made ‘models’ for
every Mizo village for cleanliness and hygienic living so the people
could lead a healthy life. The missionaries wanted to inculcate the
342 Lalhmingliani Ralte

idea of purity, both inner and outer, to the people as a contrast to

their pagan past. For inner purity they were encouraged to attend
church regularly and for outer purity the people living in Mission
Veng had to keep their animals in separate buildings. Each house
must have a separate latrine and drinking water must be boiled.136
In Theiriat village, it was made mandatory to have a small bath­
room in every house and the inhabitants needed to make use of
this at least once a week. Cleaning the house once every month and
sweeping the village streets regularly were all steps taken towards
cleanliness, hygiene and health.
The creation of the Bible Women in North Lushai Hills in
1913 by Mrs Jones with the help of the Khasi woman, Siniboni,
was soon emulated by the South Lushai Hills where the first Bible
Woman was employed in 1920. The main objective of creating this
section of missionary work was to spread the gospel in different
parts of the hills through the local women converts. They were also
expected to teach the people in the villages the basics of hygiene.
The missions and the government worked together in the project
of training the women before they were being sent out to the vil­
lages. The Bible Women were taught ‘… the elements of midwifery
and the laws of hygiene and cleanliness, and the civil surgeon has
allowed two of them to study under Pawngi—the government
midwife for a year.’137 The wives of the missionaries namely, Mrs
D.E. Jones and Mrs Frederick Sandy, collaborated with the govern­
ment in working out a schedule for their training and it was their
hope that through the Bible women ‘… in future years the country
will be greatly helped, the infant death rate lowered, and the great
suffering and pain among the poor Lushai women relieved’.138 The
missionaries approached the government to provide additional
funds to the Bible women in addition to what they were getting
from the rice collection as was shown by Mrs Sandy’s letter to Mr
Williams wherein she says that
This scheme has been sent on by the civil surgeon to the inspector general
of civil hospitals. It provides for the training of a number of Bible Women
in batches of four at Aijal [Aizawl], under the sub-assistant surgeon and
the government midwife. As they are available these women will be
 Welsh Missionaries & Transformation of Mizo Women 343

stationed one each at Kolosib, Khawthlir, Champhai, North Vanlaiphai,

Chhingchhip and Sialsuk.

It was suggested in the scheme that the government should

assist these Bible Women by supplementing the salaries they
receive from the mission (‘handful of rice’ collection) in order to
do away with any temptation to exact fees from the people, and
also as recognition of the additional work they will be doing.
Of course their primary work will be religious and spiritual, and before
being sent out to the villages, they will, as hitherto, receive religious
instruction from me and in the evangelists’ classes. The medical relief
that they will be able to afford the women will, no doubt, substantially
help the message that they bring to them.139

However, it is not known whether the government complied

with this request for the supplementation of the salaries of the
women.
Equipped with scriptural as well as elementary knowledge
of hygiene, these women trudged through villages, bearing their
own loads and sometimes carrying their babies on their backs,
started work among their fellow women in different parts of the
hills. Their numbers increased year after year and the missions in
both areas benefited from their works. D.E. Jones had commented
that they ‘could do with a hundred of them for their work is much
appreciated’.140

Introducing the Concept of Domesticity

Domesticity was a nineteenth-century concept was also an integral
aspect of modernity as well. It
denotes not just a pattern of residence or a web of obligations but a pro­
found attachment: a state of mind as well as a physical orientation. Its
defining attributes are privacy and comfort, separation from the work­
place, and the merging of domestic space and family members into a
single commanding concept (in English ‘home’).141

It had been discussed that women missionaries were sent to

India and other places to work exclusively with the women of the
344 Lalhmingliani Ralte

colonized countries. In the spirit of the ‘mission of sisterhood’, the

women missionaries had spoken of their works among the women
as an effort to socially and spiritually free their heathen ‘sisters’
whereas the ‘contemporary feminist historians have coined the
term “mission of domesticity” to describe the motivating ideol­
ogy in forming “women’s work” (as it was termed) in the mission
field: to remake “native” women into “good wives and mothers”
modeled on the norms of metropolitan and evangelical norms of
feminity.’142
The curriculum of the mission run girls’ schools reflected
the desire of the missionaries to change the ‘native’ women to
‘good wives and mothers’. They wanted to instill among the native
women an ‘understanding of Christian standards of woman­
hood, wifehood and motherhood’,143 and importance was given
‘to practical subjects such as gardening, handicrafts, cookery,
weaving, washing, etc.’144 Thus, the schools specially opened for
the girls began to play an important role in the process of trans­
forming the ‘native’ into a better human being. The education they
imparted in the schools was both secular as well as spiritual. Their
first consideration was to ‘teach better womanhood … and their
education was entirely different lines from the boys’.145 The mis­
sionaries encouraged academic excellence in their learners so that
they could become exemplary living models and a ‘means of free­
ing non-Christians from their backward traditional cultures’.146 In
addition to giving lessons on ‘domesticity’ to the girls in school,
the missionaries also set aside specific dates in a week when the
mothers, who could no longer attend schools, would come and
interacted with them. These meetings, too, became important in
imparting ideas of ‘better’ womanhood. These meetings opened
with a short period of devotion where the women were encour­
aged to participate and speak out their minds. They were taught
about health, hygiene, invalid cooking, baby and infant care. The
motivating factor of all women’s work and domesticity therefore
was the belief that ‘Christian homes will never be what they ought
to be until we have in them God fearing, educated mothers who
can train their children wisely and well’.147 Moreover, the girls edu­
cated and trained in the mission schools were expected to serve
 Welsh Missionaries & Transformation of Mizo Women 345

their community through the knowledge they had acquired. They

were shaped and expected by the missionaries to become instru­
ments of change in their community.

Missionary Intervention in Looks, Manners and Attire

The missionary reformation of the ‘native’ women could be seen
in the changed looks, manners and dress of the mission-educated
girls and women. The image of drudgery and servitude was now
replaced by one of self-confidence. The missionaries noted that
education had made a difference even in the ‘facial expressions of
the uneducated women and those of the schoolgirls’.148 The men,
too, began to respect the educated women, so much so that some
of them began to feel dissatisfied with their wives and began to
think of them as ‘sluts’ when compared with the Western educated
women. Some even implored wives of the missionaries to change
these women and teach them to become better wives.149
Missionaries wanted to spread the idea of cleanliness to its
converts and those educated in their schools. They insisted that
cleanliness was a mark of godliness and Christianity. The mission
educated girls and women who attended the women’s meetings
held by the missionaries were taught cleanliness and sometimes
were even bathed by the missionaries. Thus, the Christian con­
vert girls, women and family were cleaner in their looks than their
pagan sisters and they became different from the rest of their peo­
ple. The discourse on cleanliness empowered the mission educated
women because the focus was on spaces in Christian homes like
cleaning the house once every month, having a separate room for
bath, boiling drinking water, etc.
The women and the girls were taught manners and etiquette
along Western lines, and they were found to be better behaved than
those who did not attend school or receive education.150 They were
in the public eye and were considered to be an example.151 Although
Western mannerisms were inculcated in the mission school edu­
cated girls, the spirit of independence was also encouraged in
them. In her upper section of the school, Kitty Lewis noticed that
the girls became naughtier as they grew older but she considered
346 Lalhmingliani Ralte

this as a good sign because it showed an independent spirit. She

admitted that she liked the naughtiest the best.152 Though profess­
ing thus, some of her letters revealed the Victorian kind of rigidity
she maintained in looking after the girls. She wanted to instill the
Victorian ideas of demureness and impeccability in the manners
of the girls and became angered when these laws were defied and
when the girls mingled with men.153 She carefully watched over the
girls in the hostel lest they became embroiled in sinful pleasures of
the flesh until they were married.
When the British first came into contact with the people
of the hills, the dress worn by the men and women were rather
similar. The garments are made from cotton, which was grown
in the jhums and manufactured by the women. Locally grown
indigo plants gave the blue and black dyes used to impart colour
to the white cotton cloth while red and yellow dyes were obtained
by the Mara women by digging various roots in the jungles. The
gold colour which was woven in the cloth was silk procured from
Burmese tradesmen who came to barter away their ware.154 The
Mizo women’s dress consisted of a dark blue cotton cloth and
was worn wrapped around the waist and reaching to the knees.
It was held in place by a girdle which was made of brass string
or wire.155 Sometimes the cloth was woven with red and black
stripes.156 Traditionally, the bosom was left uncovered but soon a
top garment, which was a short white cotton jacket, was worn in
the same manner as men. Simple designs denoting walk of lov­
ers along the village path, cucumber seed, the tiger’s tooth or the
notes of a musical xylophone were woven into the cloth. Designs
used by the women of the South were ‘more exquisite and more
meticulously executed than in the North’.157 The main apparatus
used for making the cloth was the loom. A more elaborate wrap or
puan was worn on ceremonious occasions and there were certain
wraps which could be worn only by those who had performed the
thangchhuah ceremony.
The attire of the women underwent changes when the women
missionaries came to the region. The first sewing machine brought
into the Lushai Hills was by Mrs K.E. Jones and she taught two
Mizo women, Darlianchhungi and Salthangpuii, how to sew cloth.
 Welsh Missionaries & Transformation of Mizo Women 347

After her apprenticeship with Mrs Jones, Darlianchhungi was

employed by the mission to continue giving sewing lessons to the
girls in the school.158 This trend of teaching sewing and making
dresses and skirts out of the woven cotton cloth was continued by
all the other women missionaries after Mrs Jones. Kitty Lewis took
up the idea of changing the native women and girls’ dress by teach­
ing the girls to cut the cotton, dye them and make them into frocks
and dresses. The girls not only wore the frocks made in the school
but also sold them to the public on the Annual Sale Day organized
by the school.159 These frocks were made on the lines of the pat­
terns sent by the parents of Miss Lewis and the girls cut and sewed
accordingly.160 Two women employed by the mission to teach the
girls sewing and embroidery, Darlianchhungi and Darmani, were
able to perfectly reproduce from pattern books. Apart from selling
to the local people, the girls also made extra frocks. These were
sent to Britain by post and were sold by Lady Lewis there.161 From
the proceeds of these sales, Lady Lewis sent linens and cottons
of different colours along with silks. She also sent several books
on the latest patterns or fashion in Britain at that period of time.
Added to the frocks, Kitty also experimented with Darmani and
Darlianchhungi on jumpers162 and these were also introduced to
the women of the Lushai Hills. These handcrafted wear by the girls
fetched a good market even in Britain because, thanks to the pat­
tern books, they were made in line with the latest trends. Crochet
and embroidery were also taught to the girls and these were also
sold both at home and in Britain.
By 1937-8, the custom of wearing the traditional puan (wrap­
around) in the schools was slowly being relegated to the background
when the girls started having school uniforms. Initially, the school
uniforms were worn only on special occasions when there were
visitors to the school,163 but very soon they became the daily dress
of the girls in the school. It cannot be denied that the female mis­
sionaries and the school girls were the ‘trendsetters’ in the Mizo
community in women’s fashion because even the puan was impro­
vised upon by them and it disseminated from them to the public.
Several patterns, which were not indigenous, were added to the
puan.
348 Lalhmingliani Ralte

In time, the skirt and frock became more popular than the tra­
ditional puan, the jumper replaced the short cotton coat and, with
the introduction of knitting classes, the sweater, too, made its way
into the lives of the women. They were being modelled in Western
fashion, not only in manners and outlook but also in dress. The
idea of the missionaries that a Christian should look and act dif­
ferently from the heathen was being executed through the lives of
the women. There was no distinction between the north and the
south in these changes. This was because missionaries from both
the denominations shared a good rapport, visiting each other and
following similar curricula in their schools.

Missionaries and Transforming Marriage and Separation

Sources had revealed that the missionaries and the colonialists
corresponded on the question of extending the Indian Christian
Marriage Act XV of 1872 along with the Divorce Act of 1869 in the
Lushai Hills.164 However, the Lushai Hills was a part of the Backward
Areas, later Excluded Areas, where the laws of the government
could not be implemented in its totality. Therefore, the church,
or rather the missionaries, had a free hand in framing the Mizo
Christian Marriage Agreement. This agreement was enforced both
in the North and the South Lushai Hills. The marriage register
maintained by D.E. Jones165 read the marriage agreement between
the Lushai Christians as follows:
1. To live together until death. There is no cause of separation
except adultery.
2. Whatever we possess is not the property of either in
particular, but of both equally.
3. Whoever casts the other off or leaves him or her, the
same forfeits everything of the house, children, domestic
animals and any possessions.
4. Price to be paid.
The register of Rev. D.E. Jones recorded the first Lushai
Christians to wed according to the Christian Lushai Marriage
Agreement as Mr Liansawta of Sakawrtuichhun and Miss Dar­
 Welsh Missionaries & Transformation of Mizo Women 349

tawii of Zobawk. Their friends, Mr Siama of Sakawrtuichhun and

Miss Buki of Zobawk, were witnesses to this marriage which was
solemnized by Rev. Edwin Rowlands on 27 May 1907.
A significant feature of marriage in the Mizo church was the
existence of marriage in places other than the chapel. The first
record about such marriage was in the Presbytery Minute of Octo­
ber 1912 No. XI. The minute stated that if a non-Christian woman
desired to marry a Christian man, they could not do it in a chapel
and communicant church members were not to bestow their good
wishes to the couple. The second part of the minute stated that
they could secretly be married in a place other than a chapel.166
Apart from a Christian marrying a non-Christian, such kind of
marriages was applied to when a girl became pregnant or eloped
with someone disapproved of by her parents. Such offences were
dealt with by the church by excommunicating their members for
a specific period of time (six months) after which they could seek
re-entry into the church by stating their repentance. Offenders
could not get married in the chapel during their period of excom­
munication and thus had to resort to a marriage in a place other
than the chapel. If they could wait out the period of punishment,
they could get married in a chapel. The reason for creating such
kind of provision in a marriage had been explained as a means of
preserving the sanctity of the church and as a show of compas­
sion to the offenders so that they could still marry according to
the Christian rites even if not in the chapel.167 It could also be read
as a means devised by the missionaries of keeping the Christians
within their fold and insure that they do not ‘backslide’ or return
to their traditional way of life.
The concern of the early church in the hills in relation with
marriage was the ease in which the men divorced their wives.168
These divorces could not have legal penalties because the Indian
Christian Marriage Act was not implemented in the area and the
government did not have a say in such matters. The church there­
fore took up the matter of divorce among the Mizo Christians. In
the north, such cases were brought before the ‘committee of the
presbytery (later synod) to approve or disapprove.’169 The church
in the north thought it ‘natural’170 that they should make regula­
350 Lalhmingliani Ralte

tions. In case of adultery, ‘the innocent party would be allowed

to remarry and the guilty party would not be allowed to marry
for some years’.171 The Church sought ‘reconciliation between
separated couples … and repentance for sin was a condition of
remarriage and re-entry into the church’.172 The south, too, was
affected by the same dilemma of easy divorce and J.H. Lorrain had
appealed to the government to impose a fine of Rs. 60 payable to
the church.173 But government interference in the matter was not
heard of. The same system of traditional divorce was followed in
the Christian marriage and the system of paying the bride price,
too, was continued by the Mizo Christians.

Conclusion
Ideas which were brought in by the missionaries from their
mother country were implemented in the hills in bringing about
changes in the lives of the ‘native’ women. When these ideas were
hammered home into the mind of the Mizo woman, she emerged
transformed. However, the female missionaries who brought
about this transformation were still subject to patriarchal society
and Christianity. Therefore, the reformation and transformation
wrought in the lives of the Mizo women were also partial.

Notes
1. Sir Robert Reid, The Lushai Hills, Tribal Research Institute, Aizawl,
1978 (reprinted), p. 59.
2. Ibid., p. 68.
3. Government of India, Foreign and Political Department Proceedings,
March 1914, National Archives of India, New Delhi, p. 12.
4. Proceedings for the Year 1897, Lushai Hills, National Archives of
India New Delhi. pp. 223-6.
5. A.G. McCall, Lushai Chrysalis, Tribal Research Institute, Aizawl,
2003 (reprinted), p. 198.
6. Ibid., p. 199.
7. Extract from letter no. 277, dated 17 July 1896, education department,
Mizoram State Archives, Aizawl. Hereafter cited as MSA.
 Welsh Missionaries & Transformation of Mizo Women 351

8. Ibid.
9. Letter No. 677, dated 28 January 1897, education department, MSA.
10. Letter from Maj. Shakespear to the secretary to the chief commissioner
of Assam dated 15 April 1898, File: Education Department 5, MSA.
11. Letter of John Shakespear to R.A. Lorrain in: Lorain, A. Reginald,
The Wonderful Story of the Pioneer Mission, Lakher Pioneer Mission,
London, 6th edn., 2007, p. 16.
12. Ibid.
13. Letter from Mrs K.E. Jones to Mr Hezlett dated 4 May 1916, general
department G-238, MSA, p. 3.
14. Lalhmuaka and T. Chawma, Zoram Skirl Zirna Chanchin, Lalhmuaka,
Aizawl, 2000, p. 9.
15. Lalhmuaka, Zoram Zirna Lam Chhinchhiahna (The Records of Zoram
Education), Tribal Research Institute, Aizawl, 1981, p. 19.
16. V. Lalzawnga (comp.), The Annual Report of BMS on Mizoram 1901­
1938, The Baptist Church of Mizoram, Serkawn, 1993, p. 4.
17. McCall, op. cit., p. 26.
18. David Edwards’ letter to Mr Thomas dated 17 September 1936.
19. Mrs K.E. Jones’ letter to Mr Hezlett dated 4 May 1916, General
Department G-238, MSA, wherein she wrote that six Lushai girls,
chiefs’ daughters and their friends, were supported by Col. Cole in
their studies in the Girls’ School.
20. McCall, op. cit., p. 284.
21. Ibid.
22. Kitty Lewis’ letter to her parents dated 5 May 1923. File: Letters of
Kitty Lewis to her family 1922-1923, ATC Archives, p. 6.
23. K. Thanzauva (comp.), Reports of the Foreign Mission of the
Presbyterian Church of Wales on Mizoram, 1894-1957, SLPB, Aizawl,
1997, p. 56.
24. J.M. Lloyd, History of the Church in Mizoram (Harvest in the Hills),
Synod Publication Board, Aizawl, 1991, p. 29.
25. Thanzauva, op. cit., p. 1.
26. Lloyd, On Every High Hill, SLPB, Aizawl, 1984, p. 30.
27. Mizo Women Today, Tribal Research Institute, Aizawl, 1991, p. 20.
28. Mrs Jones’ letter to Mr. Hezlett, dated 4 May 1916, General
Department, MSA.
29. Thanzauva, op. cit., p. 64.
30. Mrs J. Shakespear, ‘Home For Motherless Babies’, as quoted by
Vanlalchhuanawma: op. cit., p. 144.
352 Lalhmingliani Ralte

31. Lloyd, On Every High Hill, op. cit., p. 70.

32. CMA 27,132-27,134, Abstract of Letters, vol. IV, 1916 no. 85, NLW,
p. 2.
33. Rev. D.E. Jones, A Missionary’s Autobiography 1897–1927, translated
from Welsh by Lloyd, H Liansailova, Aizawl, p. 46.
34. Ibid., p. 47.
35. Ibid.
36. Ibid.
37. Thanzauva, op. cit., p. 61.
38. Maggie Sandy’s letter to Mr Williams dated 23 August 1919. CMA
27,335, NLW, p. 1.
39. Lloyd, History, op. cit., p. 145.
40. Ibid., p. 163.
41. Ibid., p. 240.
42. Interview with Upa Hmawnga h/o Kawli Bible Woman as cited in
P.C. Laltlani, Kohhran Hmeichhhe Chanchin, LT Hmangaihthanga,
Aizawl, 2003, pp. 95, 96.
43. Lloyd, History, op. cit., p. 278.
44. Official website of the Young Mizo Association, retrieved on 17
August 2010, http://centralyma.org.in YMA History Bung 2.
45. According to the Constitution of Young Mizo Association, Central
Young Mizo Association, Aizawl, 1984, p. 1.
Aims of the YLA: 1. To make best use of leisure time. 2. To strive for
all round development of Mizoram. 3. To promote good Christian
life. Rules of Membership: 1. Any Christian youth who desire to
promote good Christian life could be a member of the YLA. 2. No
membership to those who drank Zu or rice beer. 3. No membership
to people with loose tongue. 4. Entry fee of eight anna and a monthly
fee of one anna to be paid by the members.
46. Nerys Wendon Williams, op. cit., p. 215.
47. Lloyd, History, I, p. 221.
48. Kitty Lewis’ letter to her family dated 18 November 1924, File:
Letters of Kitty Lewis, ATC Archives.
49. Rev. Lalrinawma, Pi Zomawii Leh Pu Niara Chanchin (Khawvel
Sunday School Ni), SLPB, Aizawl, 2005, p. 4.
50. Letter of Kitty Lewis to Flintshire Branches dated 23 May, 1923, File:
Letters of Kitty Lewis, ATC Archives.
51. Letter of Kitty Lewis to Mr W. Buthen dated 8 February 1924. File:
Letters of Kitty Lewis, ATC Archives, p. 1.
52. Ibid., p. 1.
 Welsh Missionaries & Transformation of Mizo Women 353

53. Ibid., p. 3.
54. See David Edwards’ letter to Mr Thomas dated 17 September 1936,
CMA 27,397, NLW.
55. Ibid.
56. ‘The Women of Lushai Today’, a loose leaflet by Katie Hughes, found
in CMA 27,366, NLW, p. 2.
57. Article in Glad Tidings, August 1963, by Dr Gwyneth P. Roberts
found in CMA 27,366, NLW, p. 2.
58. Ibid., p. 1.
59. Miss Hughes’ reference to the DPI’s Report dated 8 February 1939,
found in CMA 27,366, NLW.
60. Williams, op. cit., p. 259.
61. From a booklet called A Memorandum on the Welsh Mission Girls’
School Aijal, North Lushai Hills Assam 1949, CMA 27,423, NLW, p. 4.
62. Catherine Hughes’ letter to Mr Thomas dated 8 August 1935, and
also in Letters 1924-1937, File 1, CMA 27,366, NLW.
63. Williams, op. cit., p. 265.
64. Gwen’s letters to David dated 1 August 1948, and 31 December 1948,
CMA 27,423, NLW.
65. Mr Thomas’ letter to Gwen dated 16 June 1938, CMA 27,423, NLW,
p. 1.
66. Ibid.
67. Letter of Mr Lorrain to Mr Hezlett dated 13 September 1913, File:
General Department, G204, MSA, p. 1.
68. Lalzawnga (comp.), op. cit., p. 42.
69. David Kyles, op. cit,. pp. 31-2.
70. Questions made by the Women’s Missionary Association (WMA)
to be answered by lady missionary candidates, File: Edith Chapman
CP/1919; IN/65, Angus Library, Oxford.
71. Letter of Geo Beaumont to the Secretary of the Baptist Missionary
Society dated 22 February 1916, File: Edith Chapman CP/1919;
IN/65, Angus Library, Oxford.
72. Miss Chapman’s answers to the Questions for Missionary candidates
no. 9 dated 15 March 1916, File: Edith Chapman, Angus Library,
Oxford, p. 10.
73. E. Chapman, and M. Clark, Mizo Miracle, The Christian Literature
Society, Madras, 1968, op. cit., p. 47.
74. Miss Chapman’s letter to Miss Lockhart dated 1 March 1920, p. 3,
File: Edith Chapman CP/1919; IN/65, Angus Library, Oxford.
75. Chapman and Clark, op. cit., p. 56.
354 Lalhmingliani Ralte

76. Ibid., p. 3.
77. Ibid.
78. Ibid., p. 2.
79. Lalzawnga (compiled), op. cit., p. 176.
80. Ibid., p. 194.
81. Chapman and Clark, op. cit., p. 105.
82. David Edwards’ letter to Mr Thomas dated 17 September 1936,
CMA 27,397, Letters 1932-1952, NLW.
83. Mr W.C. Eadie’s letter to Miss Bowser dated 18 October 1930, File:
Miss M Clark, IN/66 M Clark 1930-1932, Angus Library, Oxford.
84. Chapman and Clark, op. cit., p. 37.
85. Lalzawnga (comp.), op. cit., p. 160.
86. N.E. Parry, The Lakhers, typed manuscript, File: G-1288, General,
MSA.
87. Lorrain, The Wonderful , p. 11.
88. Letter of G.H. Loch to Lorrain dated 18 April 1911, cited in Lorrain,
Ibid., pp. 13-14.
89. The Lakher Pioneer Newsletter, 44th Year. February 1949.
90. ‘Forty-One Years for God and the Gospel’, The Lakher Pioneer
Newsletter, 44th Year, February 1949.
91. Parry, op. cit., p. 276.
92. The Honorary Treasurer of The Lakher Pioneer Newsletter had written
in the 25th Year, Fourth Quarter 1930 that while it took about 1,000
Pound Sterling a year for the mission to run smoothly, only 400 or
500 Pound Sterling was being sent out to the missionaries.
93. The Lakher Pioneer Newsletter, 25th Year Fourth Quarter, 1930,
p. 3.
94. Ibid., pp. 3-4.
95. Letter with no addressee or date, File: Edith Chapman CP/1919;
IN/65, Angus Library, Oxford.
96. Parry, op. cit., p. 19.
97. McCall, op. cit., p. 179.
98. Reports of Births and Deaths 1929-1930, General Department, Sl.
No. 413, MSA.
99. V.L. Siama, Mizo History, Lengchhawn Press, Aizawl, 1991, p. 136.
100. From district administration 1899, Political Department, MSA,
p. 12.
101. Ibid., p. 12.
102. These articles on women and woman-related issues were written
in the Mizo Leh Vai Chanchinbu Lehkha VI, June 1906, May 1909,
December 1909, November 1924 and June 1938.
 Welsh Missionaries & Transformation of Mizo Women 355

103. Statements showing the number of patients treated, Annual Reports

1921-22, 1929-30, General Department, MSA.
104. McCall, The Lushai Hills District Cover, Tribal Research Institute,
Aizawl, 1980, p. 292.
105. Ibid.
106. McCall, Lushai Chrysalis, op. cit., p. 256.
107. Ibid., p. 258.
108. Ibid., p. 256.
109. J. Shakepear’s letter dated 22 March 1905, Political Department,
MSA, pp. 14,15.
110. Cole, Short Note on Education in the Lushai Hills, Education
Department, MSA.
111. Zoram Upa Pawl, Thurawn Bu (Advice to the Public by ZUP), ZUP
Headquarters, Aizawl, 1984, Thuhma (Preface).
112. James Dokhuma, Hmanlai Mizo Kalphung, Mizoram Publication
Board, Aizawl, 2008, pp. 256-65.
113. Vanlalchhuanawma, op. cit., p. 56
114. McCall, The Lushai Hills, op. cit., p. 31
115. Biswamoy Pati and Mark Harrison (eds), Health, Medicine and
Empire: Perspectives on Colonial India, New Delhi, 2006. p. 89.
116. Rutter, Williamson Healing of the Nations: Report of the Ecumenical
Conference on Foreign Missions, 21 April-1 May 1900, Religious
Tract Society, London, 1900, p. 221.
117. Pati and Harrison (eds), op. cit., p. 127.
118. Ibid., p. 4.
119. Ibid., p. 13.
120. Ibid., p. 41.
121. Ibid., p. 52.
122. Thanzauva (comp.), op. cit., p. 86.
123. May Bounds and Gwladys M. Evans, Medical Mission-Personal
Experiences, The Synod Publication Board, Aizawl, 1987, pp. 69, 71.
124. Ibid., p. 72.
125. Ibid., p. 123.
126. Ibid.
127. Evans (Typed Ms), Memorandum of Village Work in Lushai, CMA
27,405, NLW, p. 5.
128. Bounds and Evans, op. cit., p. 176.
129. Ibid., p. 178.
130. Lloyd (ed), Nine Missionary Pioneers, The Mission Board,
Caernarfon, September 1989, p. 26. Hereafter cited as Lloyd, Nine
Missionary.
356 Lalhmingliani Ralte

131. CMA 27,366 Catherine Hughes, Letters 1924-1937, NLW.

132. Eirlys Williams’ letter to Mrs Jones dated 20 August 1937, CMA
27,399 Eirlys Williams, NLW, p. 2.
133. Chapman and Clark, op. cit., p. 24.
134. Ibid., p. 26.
135. Lalzawnga (comp.), op. cit., p. 218.
136. Jones, op. cit., p. 11.
137. Maggie Sandy’s letter to Mr Williams dated 9 April 1919, CMA
27,335, NLW, p. 1.
138. Ibid., p. 1.
139. Ibid., pp. 1-2.
140. Lloyd, History, op. cit., p. 216.
141. John Tosh, A Man’s Place: Masculinity and the Middle Class Home in
Victorian England, Yale University Press, 2007, p. 4.
142. Jane Haggis, Ironies of Emancipation: Changing Configuration of
‘Women’s Work’ in the ‘Mission of Sisterhood’ to Indian Women,
Feminist Review No. 65, Summer 2000, pp. 109, 110.
143. Chapman and Clark, op. cit., p. 47.
144. Ibid., p. 3.
145. David Edwards’ letter to Mr Thomas dated 17 September 1936,
CMA 27,397, Letters 1932-1952, NLW.
146. Williams, op. cit., p. 259.
147. Report of Council for World Mission 1884 as quoted in Haggis,
op. cit., p. 113.
148. Chapman and Clark, op. cit., p. 51.
149. Maggie Sandy’s letter to Mr Williams, 22 July 1917, CMA27, 335,
NLW, p. 2.
150. Letter of Kitty Lewis to parents, n/d. File: Letters of Kitty Lewis,
ATC Archives, p. 3.
151. Ibid.
152. Letter of Kitty Lewis to a friend dated 2 March 1925, File: Letters of
Kitty Lewis, ATC Archives, p. 3.
153. See letters of Kitty Lewis to her mother dated 16 July 1924, p. 3, and
a letter with no addressee and n/d p. 2, File: Letters of Kitty Lewis,
ATC Archives.
154. Lorrain, 5 Years in Unknown Jungles, Spectrum Publications,
Guwahati, 1988, p. 136.
155. Shakespear, op. cit., p. 11.
156. Letter of Kitty Lewis to Mrs Owen dated 2 December 1922, File:
Letters of Kitty Lewis, ATC Archives. p. 2.
 Welsh Missionaries & Transformation of Mizo Women 357

157. McCall, Lushai, op. cit., p. 183.

158. Hmeichhe Sikul, a Centenary Souvenir of the Presbyterian Church
Girls’ School, 1903-2003. p. 15.
159. Letter of Kitty Lewis to her family dated 6 July 1924, File: Letters of
Kitty Lewis, ATC Archives, pp. 2, 3.
160. Letter of Kitty Lewis to her family dated 10 September 1924, File:
Letters of Kitty Lewis, ATC Archives. p. 4.
161. Letter of Kitty Lewis to parents dated 15 September 1924, File:
Letters of Kitty Lewis, ATC Archives. p. 1.
162. Letter of Kitty Lewis to her family dated 28 September 1924, File:
Letters of Kitty Lewis, ATC Archives. p. 6.
163. Ibid., p. 16.
164. Letter to the Superintendent, Lushai Hills from the office of the
secretary to the chief commissioner of Assam dated 10 January
1903, File: general department, no. 722/21P, dated 10 January 1903,
MSA
165. D.E. Jones, Marriage Register, Synod Office Archives, Presbyterian
Church of Mizoram, Aizawl.
166. H. Remthanga, Synod Thurel Lak Khawm Volume I (1910-1950),
Synod Literature and Publication Board, Aizawl, 1996, p. 186. The
literal translation of the Mizo sentences used here could be read
as someone who could administer marriage ceremony (a pastor
perhaps) may preside over such kind of marriage, too.
167. Interview of Rev. H. Remthanga at Mission Veng, Aizawl, Mizoram,
on 18 August 2010.
168. Lloyd, History, op. cit., p. 158.
169. Ibid., p. 187.
170. Ibid.
171. Ibid.
172. Ibid.
173. Translation into English of the Christian Lushai Marriage
Agreement by J.H. Lorrain dated 19 February 1910. File: general
department 177/G8, 1910, MSA.
 CHAPTER 14

Society, Culture and Conversion

The Jesuit Madurai Mission in Tamil Nadu,
1650-1700 ce1

JANGKHOMANG GUITE

Introduction
There can be no single cause for conversion, of course. When
the caste system is usually pointed out as the main factor for the
conversion of oppressed lower caste people in caste society, the
same theory cannot be applied to the egalitarian and semi-nomadic
tribal society of India. Similarly, the case for the mass movement
cannot be generalized with the case of individual or family base
conversion. Every conversion is to be situated in the context of
the local socio-economic, politico-cultural circumstances. This
paper makes the dynamic socio-religious culture of Tamil Nadu
as an essential entry point in examining the domain of Christian
conversion movements. It is not only about how Christianity was
presented to the local people but how more of the local people saw
or perceived Christianity.
This paper will examine the changing circumstances in the
region in the light of letters written by the missionaries and show
how far these situations created the way for the conversion of large
number of the local people to Christianity. It will be pertinent to
begin with the political circumstances of the period.

Politics, Wars, Famines and Epidemics, 1650-1690

The unsettled political situation during the later half of the
seventeenth century in Coromandel led to continuous wars,
famines and epidemics. This region had been integrated within
360 Jangkhomang Guite

the Vijayanagar empire since the fourteenth century. But after the
civil war of 1614-17, the Nayaks began to show open opposition
to the raja of Vijayanagar. This was followed by constant political
disturbances down to the end of the century. By the 1650s, the
Coromandel region witnessed constant wars among the local rulers
on a large scale. The ruler of Mysore invaded the Madurai territory
and seized the fortress of Tiruchirappalli in 1659.2 In the meantime,
constant warfare took place between the Nayaks of Madurai and
Thanjavur. This had brought about the invasion of Bijapuri armies
to the territory of Thanjavur who captured the entire kingdom.
Following these wars was a terrible famine for two years, 1660-2.
This was particularly severe in the region of Tiruchirappalli and
Thanjavur. A large number of people migrated to the province of
Madurai, Satyamangalam and other port towns.3 Baldaeus (1660)
said that the king of Bijapur, before he laid siege to Nagapattinam,
‘made an inroad into the country, and by destroying all the fruits
of the earth, and whatever else he met with, occasioned such a
famine, that the poor country wretches were being forced to fly
to the city for want of rice and other eatables’. He also saw the
streets of Nagapattinam covered with ‘emaciated and half starv’d
persons, who offered themselves to slavery for a small quantity of
bread … at the rate of 10 shillings a head’, and ‘above 5,000 of them
were bought and carried to Jafnapatnam … Colombo … Batavia’.4
What Baldaeus had noted in Nagapattinam was also the case in
the provinces of Tiruchirappalli and Thanjavur, where there was
intense warfare. Moreover, here famine consumed thousands of
lives and dispersed the population to all directions. It is said that
about 10,000 Christians died of starvation in these areas.5
Wars and disorders continued during the 1660s and 1670s.
After protracted wars, the Nayak of Madurai finally captured
Thanjavur in 1673.6 In response Ekoji, the army general of Bija­
pur captured Thanjavur from Madurai’s control in 1675 and later
declared himself as independent ruler.7 The victorious Ekoji was
said to have advanced till the gates of the Tiruchirappalli fortress,
the capital of the Madurai Nayak.8 In the meantime, the Maratha
armies under Shivaji intruded into the region and first took
possession of the Gingee Kingdom in 1677 and then penetrated
 Society, Culture and Conversion 361

into the Madurai territory till the bank of Kollidam.9 His cavalry
troops were said to have ransacked the countryside for provisions
and forages. Even the thatches of houses, including that of the
church were not spared. Besides, they cut down the entire paddy
in the field.10 Shivaji left behind a large portion of his army to
defend Ginjee.11 War broke out between Ekoji on the one hand
and Shivaji’s general and Madurai Nayaks on the other.12 In the
meantime, the king of Mysore waged a war against Madurai in the
province of Omalur.13 The wars among these rulers and the move­
ment of armies in the region were almost permanent throughout
1670s.
This brought about another terrible famine, which broke
out in 1675 and lasted for four years. The Jesuit annual letters of
1677 reported that ‘the war going on in several parts of the king­
dom, produced a famine which lasted four years, destroying and
consuming all the resources of the country … entire population
destroyed and villages completely abandoned … very many people
died and others fled to the Coast where famine was not so acutely
felt’.14 They observed that the ‘vicissitudes of war have scattered
them [Christians] a little everywhere, and I believe there is not at
present a province in Asia where Christian from Thanjavur can­
not be found’ and ‘if we go among the Dutch in Ceylon, and the
Chinese in Melaka, we find them there, for they sold themselves to
escape famine and misery’.15
To crown it all, a disastrous flood hit the provinces of Satya­
mangalam, Tiruchirappalli, Thanjavur and Gingee during the last
month of 1677. Many villages were washed down causing several
deaths.16 It was followed by famine and pestilence. For instance,
in the residence of Mulliparai people ‘died in such large numbers
that the lord of the country being furious because he had to cre­
mate them, ordered the corpses to be carried away and thrown
into a crevice or natural cavity in a neighbouring mountain’.17 In
Satyamangalam, it was reported that flood was followed by ‘such
violent epidemics, that whole villages fell victim to them, and lost
a number of people who died without receiving any help, for the
epidemics came so suddenly, that it was impossible to attend to all
and give them necessary help’.18 In the province of Madurai it was
362 Jangkhomang Guite

reported that ‘everything is falling to ruins, desolation and solitude

reigns everywhere … once populous city [Madurai] looks like a
wretched village … this kingdom is in a state of anarchy, and every
disorder and confusion prevails on all side’.19 The combined forces
of war, famine, flood, epidemics and other disorders ruined the
whole region.
In the 1680s, the continuing wars were now concentrated in
the kingdom of Madurai, in and around the region of Tiruchirap­
palli, the capital. The armies of Mysore, the Maravas, Sambhaji the
ruler of Gingee and finally Ekoji the king of Thanjavur, all pen­
etrated into Madurai territory.20 Fr John de Britto said that,
… the kingdom of Madurai is partly under its Telegu Nayak, partly under
the king of Mysore, partly under the prince of Marava, partly under Sam­
baji, the son of Shivaji, and partly under Ekoji, the king of Thanjavur, and
… this kingdom of Madurai is utterly ruined, for rapine, tyranny and
treason are rampant everywhere.21

The kingdom of Madurai was later divided amongst the rulers

of Gingee, Thanjavur and the Marava Setupati leaving the greater
part with the Madurai Nayak.
Under such unsettled political situation governance was at the
lowest ebb and crime and violence seemed to have been the order
of the day. Fr Freye wrote in 1682 that ‘murders and brigandage
were seen multiplying everywhere, without anybody daring to ask
an explanation, for it is said, the thieves were sharing the booty
with the government’.22 From Thanjavur, Fr Britto wrote that Ekoji
exacted four-fifth of the produce in cash ‘so that the peasant must
not only sell all his harvest, but also borrow money to pay the other
contributions to the state’.23 Fr De Mello wrote about the oppressive
rule under their tyrant king, Sambhaji in the kingdom of Gingee.
He also mentioned that the governor in the region of Kandalur
‘made the imprisonment of all the farmers and village headmen …
openly and freely take possession of the people’s property, cutting
down their harvest, rounding up their flocks, lifting their cattle,
stealing their furniture, and torturing them most cruelly to extort
from them whatever money was left with them’.24
As a result of all these tyrannies the region suffered another
 Society, Culture and Conversion 363

terrible famine, which broke out in 1686 and lasted till 1689.25 In
Madras and its neighbourhood no less than 35,000 out of an esti­
mated population of 300,000 died.26 Fr De Mello reported that this
famine had affected the ‘whole of Madurai country’ for some years
and missionaries were in constant danger of death on account of
persecution, ‘the confusion created by war, and the long famine…
high price of foodstuffs, the incursions of raiders, and the riots
among the people’.27 At the Koranapatti Residence or Mission Sta­
tion, it was reported that all the villages in the north districts were
almost deserted as ‘countless number of the inhabitants had been
carried away by famine, which for some years had been afflicting
these parts’.28 At Thanjavur and Varugapatti Residences ‘Christians
and Pagans died of starvation, and they were so reduced that they
looked more like skeletons than living beings’.29 Thus the unsettled
political situation caused continuous wars, famines, epidemics,
floods, deaths and constant movement of armies and people.

Mission Residences and the Converts

The Madurai Mission encompassed the region of the greater part
of present-day Tamil Nadu. It extended from Tirunelveli district
in the south to South Arcot in the north and from the coast in
the east to Coimbatore district in the west. The number of resi­
dences or mission stations kept changing, but there were about
10 to 15 during the seventeenth century. However, these mis­
sionary stations were located in three regions: the Tiruchirappalli
region, the Satyamangalam region in the west and the Madurai
region in the south. The Tiruchirappalli region was the centre
of missionary activities since the middle of the seventeenth cen­
tury. The residences were located in Tiruchirappalli, Thanjavur,
Kandalur, Thottiam, Kongupatti (both together then called
Pachur), Varugapatti, Kollai, Koranapatu, Nandavanam, Kottur
and Mulliparai. Excepting the residences of Tiruchirappalli and
Thanjavur all the other residences were in the forest of the Kallar
country where most of the Christians came from rural backward
villages. Similarly, the residences in the Satyamangalam Province
such as Satyamangalam, Kavanakarai, Vaniputhur, Ellamangalam,
364 Jangkhomang Guite

Anekareipalayam were in the dry zone where the Christians

remained scattered among 130 villages. The letters of the mission­
aries mentioned that ‘the rocky nature of the soil almost throughout
the Province, which spread on one side along a chain of moun­
tains and the insalubrities of the climate during certain seasons
of the year render the usual administration of the Christians very
difficult’.30 The Madurai region had residences at Madurai, Utta­
mapalayam, Kamanakenpati, Kayattar and in the Marava country.
As far as conversions were concerned, the largest number of
conversion was in the Tiruchirappalli region. The progress of con­
version can be seen from the report of the missionaries. The total
number of Christians in the Madurai mission increased to 4,183 in
164431; 50,000 in 167732; 80,000 in 168233 and 1,20,000 at the turn
of seventeenth century.34 The number of conversion in each resi­
dence of the Madurai mission can be broadly shown in Table 14.1.
It is seen from the table that the many conversions took place
mainly during the later half of the seventeenth century. We can
also see that Tiruchirappalli region accounted for more than 70
per cent of conversions. Besides, we also have a significant number
of conversions in the region of Satyamangalam, where there were
more than 6,000 Shudras and Brahmins, besides many ‘low’ caste
people who were ‘scattered among one hundred and thirty villages,
with twenty three churches’ in 1667.35 Altogether it accounted
for about 9,699 persons by the turn of the eighteenth century. In
the Madurai region, except for the large number of conversions
among the Maravars at the turn of the century, there was very less
conversion, ‘very little indeed when compared to the fruits gath­
ered in other residences, too little indeed if we consider that the
work is harder than elsewhere’.36 Therefore, Tiruchirappalli region
accounted for the largest number of conversions.
Wars, famines, epidemics, floods and conversions met at
Tiruchirappalli region much more dramatically than in the other
two regions. How shall we explain this startling fact? Can one
draw any parallel correlation between them, and if so how and
why, and if not why? In other words, what were the factors that led
to the dramatic rise of conversions? These are some questions that
we shall try to address below.
 Table 14.1: Numbers of Conversions in Madurai Mission during the Seventeenth Century
Residences 1648 1651- 1654- 1656- 1664- 1665- 1674- 1677 1678 1679- 1682 1683 1684-6 1688 1689- 1701 Total
2 6 9 5 6 6 81 1700
Tiuchirapalli 300 2.000 1.240 2.347 – – – – – – – – – – 20.000 – 25.887
& Kandalur – – – 1.192 2.784 549 1228 222 185 764 405 – 13.419 200 – – 20.948
Vadugarpatti – – – – – – – 401 540 2.122 1.051 1.040 – 4.782 – – 9.936
& Anaikaraipalayam – – – – – – 1647 240 51 92 70 – – – – – 2.100
Pachur – – – 1.400 – – – – – – – – – – – – 1.400
Tottiyam – – – – – 196 – – – – – – – – – – 196
Kongupatti – – – – – 272 – – – – – – – – – – 272
Madurai – – – – – 185 184 49 67 – – – – 95 – – 580
Mullipadi – – – – – 140 207 247 297 371 265 – – 75 – – 1.602
Satyamangalam – 1.500 – – – 514 – 129 – – – – – – – – 2.143
& Vaniputhur – – – – – – 390 – – – – – – – – – 390
Kavankarai – – – – – – 300 – – – 300 – – – – – 600
& Ellamangalam – – – – – – – – – 1.047 360 130 – – – 1.537
Nandavanam – – 600 – – – 1.198 339 504 1.238 520 – – – – – 4.399
& Nandavanampatti – – – – – – – – – – – 630 – – – – 630
Thanjavur – – – 2.268 – 401 – – – – – – – – – – 2.669
Koranapattu – – – – – – – 59 335 443 100 – – 150 – – 1.087
& Agaram – – – – – – – – – – – 500 – – – – 500
Kollai – – – – – – 1.159 390 – – – – – – – – 1.549

contd.
Table 14.1 (contd.)
Residences 1648 1651- 1654- 1656- 1664- 1665- 1674- 1677 1678 1679- 1682 1683 1684-6 1688 1689- 1701 Total
2 6 9 5 6 6 81 1700
& Kottur – – – – – – – – 1.280 2.280 810 1.003 – – – – 5.373
Kalpalayam – – – – – – – – – – – – – 180 – – 180
Kallupatti – – – – – – – – – – – 450 – – – – 450
Kanannykapatti – – – – – – – – – – – – – 354 – – 354
Marava Country – – – – – 252 – – – – – 1.136 2070 – 8.000 9.000 20.458
Kuvathur – – – – – – – – – – – – – – 404 – 404
Total 300 3.500 1.840 7.207 2.784 2.509 6.313 2.076 3.259 8.357 3.881 4.889 15.489 5.836 28.404 9.000 105.644
Sources: The figures given in the table are tabulated on the basis of number of baptism given in the missionary letters. See Jesuit Letters,
pp. 62, 100, 147, 180, 188, 276, 327, 346, 371; A. Lopez, The Annual Letters of 1644, pp. 30-2; Thekkedath, History of Christianity, pp.
225-6, 228, 246, 248-9
 Society, Culture and Conversion 367

While the dauntless efforts of the Jesuits with their catechists

and some zealous Christians are undoubtedly seen to be the
primary agent, we intend to look for some other factors that facili­
tated this remarkable number of conversions. In the following
pages an attempt is made to explain the various possible factors
responsible for the dramatic events. However, before doing that we
shall discuss the changing situation in the village society under the
impact of the new circumstances. This is seen to be most necessary
because the success or failure of missionary movement depends
on the kind of village sociocultural system in which the mission­
ary worked.

Revitalizing the Village Cosmology

During our period of study, on the one hand, the village society
was in the state of revitalizing its old form of belief and ritual
systems and, on the other, it was seeking towards the range of
the high-ranking universal gods. This change was caused mainly
by recurring wars, new armies, new types of weapons and war
machinery, famines, new kind of diseases, commercial integration
of the region with the far other worlds, etc. It should be noted that
the bounded or more nucleated village communities of south India
were thought of as a domain of order and civilization. The village
contained many dangers and beyond the locality was thought to
be the world of the supernatural beings. Beyond the village, in
the solitary bushes and forests, were the abodes of spirits, real life
predators, robbers, unsettled warriors and marauders, invading
armies, alien tribute gatherers, conquerors, etc., the source of
powerful and often actively malevolent outfit of ‘demonic’ deities.37
In the village and in the streets were the lurking spirits that could
possess anyone. The village people were in constant fear and any
misfortune that occured was attributed to the ‘demon’ or the
village deities.38 Since these deities controlled the specific reality
of everyday life such as diseases, health, crops, etc., it was through
their agency that these phenomena could be explained, predicted
and controlled. Since they were also generally malevolent and
destructive, constant appeasement was needed to keep them away
368 Jangkhomang Guite

from wreaking havoc in the locality, and if it did occur at all, they
needed to be pacified by all means. Thus, they were more clearly
defined by the village worshippers than the high universal gods
and most offerings and sacrifices were made to them.
For concerns that affected the entire village war, famine, epi­
demics and diseases these local deities, such as fierce ammans
(goddesses), peys, pattavans and male divinities that embodied
divine force at its most active were generally invoked by the village
ritual specialists.39 Each village had their own ritual specialist what
the missionaries, called variously as yogis, andis, Brahmins, etc.
Thus, the region tended to give the village a miniature ordered cos­
mos with its own gods, shrines and procession routes and a set of
recognized boundaries, which were preserved by the fierce super­
natural guardians, such as Aiyanar and Karuppan.40 Besides, there
were also shrines, which housed divinities who received worship
from entire localities. Each unit was territorially defined co­
terminus with the kin group boundary. Each of these household,
patrilineage and clan had its own kulateivam, usually a Goddess
who protected the ancestral domain and whose shrine would be a
place of power and pilgrimage for the group even if its members
had migrated far outside its original home.
But the new changing circumstances during the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries greatly altered the religious landscape of the
village society. The multi-dimensional integration of the village
societies with the larger social milieu must have had impact on the
cognitive realms of the village people as the confines of their world
became so enlarged that it could not have failed to have had reli­
gious implications. Just as the advent of firepower had undermined
the power of the age-old traditional weapons in the battlefield, the
disasters that were caused by the newcomers and the new mode of
governance and usages undermined the command and control by
those local deities and spirits. Two important changes can be seen
under the impact of the new circumstances. First, was the revital­
ization of the village Goddess tutelary called ammans. Stein’s study
on the temples of Tamil Nadu shows the rising prominence in the
popular worship of the ammans (goddesses) from 1300-1750.41
 Society, Culture and Conversion 369

This explains the rising attention given towards this tutelary by

the village people as their protector. These goddesses were gradu­
ally integrated in the high Hindu temples due to the integration
processes of the wet zone society with the upland dry zone areas
on the one hand and because of the patronage given to them by the
newly settled local warrior kings (poligars) and local elites known
as the ‘little kings’ of the realms.42 Second, now more and more
attention was also given to the higher gods of universal order. The
changing situation demanded a larger and more powerful divinity
that could explain, predict and control many new events.
The gaining attention of higher orders of gods can be seen
from the observation of some European visitors. Manucci said that
‘there is not an individual among them denies that there is a God;
still, they have so many different views in what they say of God
that they are incompetent to find the truth.… In addition to this
… they say, three hundred and thirty millions of gods.’43 Again in
1684, from the residence of Kottur, Fr John de Britto wrote that,
… almost all the gentiles in this Empire of Vijayanagar admit the existence
of one God, but being ignorant of the divine essence and its attributes,
they speak of a good deal of nonsense and contradict themselves in their
statement.… In addition to this Trinity, they say that there are 3,30,000
million gods, and the soul of man and the stars are also gods, and they
adore them as such.44

From what Manucci and John de Britto noted we may sketch

out the main features of the village cosmology into two-tier struc­
ture.45 The upper tier was the world of universal gods and their
consorts, who underpinned the universe and who, though benev­
olent, were vaguely understood and seldom approached because
of their remoteness from the everyday concern of the village com­
munities. These supreme gods constituted what Manucci called
the ‘Trinity’ of Brahma, Vishnu and Tutrin (Rudra) or Shiva (by
Britto). Their abodes were in the celestial world of five heavens.46
The lower tier cosmos constituted a host of the village deities and
spirits who were more sharply perceived and given greater atten­
tion precisely because they underpinned the immediate reality
370 Jangkhomang Guite

of the people. These deities probably constituted, what Manucci

says, of the ‘three hundred and thirty millions of gods’ such as the
ammans, pattavams, pey-picacus and other male divinities.
Then how did Christianity present itself amidst such a cosmol­
ogy? Or how did the local people perceive it? Understanding this
is crucial in explaining conversion to Christianity. It is seen that
in the perception of the local people the missionaries presented
Christianity to the local society in such a way that it was similar
to that of the Hindu world. In other words, the ability of Chris­
tianity to adapt itself with the local practices, on the one hand,
and the powers of delivering the local people from several old and
new problems were considered to be the main reason behind such
large number of conversions. This argument is given credence by
the fact that there were apparent similarities in the concept of one
supreme God, Trinity, hell and heaven, (higher cosmos) and cult,
saint and Goddess worship (lower cosmos), and the caste system.
No wonder for many of the local people Christianity is considered
to be sort of new sect of Hinduism. Before we look into the percep­
tions of the villagers it would be pertinent to see briefly the views
of local rulers on Christianity.

Kings, Rulers and Christianity

For the kings and rulers, Christianity was seen to be no less
spiritual and truthful than Hinduism. If we examine the incidents
of persecutions more deeply, they did not emanate generally from
the king’s court but rather from the rival religious temple priests.
And in most cases it was prosecuted locally. Some interesting cases
can be cited here. For instance, in 1667, when Thottiam Guru made
an accusation against Fr Emmanuel de Britto and asked for order
to persecute the Christians, the palayakkarar or poligar dismissed
the accusation and allowed the latter the liberty to preach his
religion. However, the said Guru continued to conspire against de
Britto and later led the people to persecute the Christians without
the orders of the rulers.47 Further, when Fr. John de Britto and his
five catechists were arrested by the soldiers of Maravas in 1686,
after several rounds of tortures and imprisonment, he was finally
 Society, Culture and Conversion 371

released when the king did not find any fault in his doctrine. The
king also withdrew his previous order to kill him.48
Again, in 1684, when the rebellion of the local peasants broke
out against the king of Mysore, many of them took advantage
by persecuting the Christians, burning their churches, plunder­
ing their houses, etc. When they seized the church in which Fr
Nogueira was residing, the captain of the area rescued the lat­
ter. When the rebels later again seized Karumathampatti village
where the Father and the captain were residing, the governor
sent Fr Perreira at the head of 200 Christian soldiers to crush the
rebels.49 From Nandavanam it was reported that the kallars gave
high regards to Christianity that ‘many of them have become so
domesticated that they do not differ from the Christians’, although
they did not convert for fear of leaving their professions of rob­
bing. They protected the Christians from the attacks of other tribes
and indeed ‘took up arms and gave battle’ several times to protect
Christians.50
But what was most curious of all was the demolition of one
village temple and in its place erection of a church in Uraiyur, near
Tiruchirappalli, in 1689. It was the spot where Fr De Costa had
once constructed his house and church but later a small temple
had been built upon it which ‘was held in great veneration’ by the
people. This was granted by the local captain, cousin of the rul­
ing Nayak, when Fr. De Mello sought his permission for the same.
After some resistance the temple priest was forced to vacate the
place.51 Besides, some missionary stations, like Kandalur, were
initially granted for the mission’s residence by the local rulers. In
fact, for the local rulers, mutual co-existence and respect amongst
all religions, appeared to be the stated policy. The above few cases
show the general perception of the local rulers about Christianity.

Christianity in the Perception of the Village People

God, Trinity, Hell and Heaven
The concept of one God and the Trinity in Christianity, if we believe
the account of Manucci and John de Britto, is similar to Hinduism.
Manucci called the ‘Trinity of Brahma, Vishnu and Rudra (or
372 Jangkhomang Guite

Shiva for de Britto)’.52 It can be said that Christian missionaries

brought closer to the village community this remotely or vaguely
known supreme gods of the Hindus in the form of the Christian
Biblical God. The missionary, wherever they went, preached
Christian beliefs and tenets very strongly such as the existence of
one supreme God, transcendental and all benevolent. For instance,
Xavier was said to have proclaimed the existence of one Supreme
God and that this God was the God to the poor and ‘simple people’
until he was ‘exhausted’.53 Apart from disseminating the presence
of Universal God among the innocent people by way of preaching,
dramas, pamphlets and discussion, these missionaries never failed
to say this wherever they went. In 1667, Fr Freye was also said to
have scolded one rich gentleman when the latter presented him a
lingam by saying that he ‘only worshipped the Lord of the Universe,
Creator of all things, and not stones or such other things’. He also
reported that his ‘way of speaking convinced him, and all those
who were with him’.54
In the same way, the presentation of the Bible as the ‘lost’ Veda
of the Hindu by Nobili also presented Christianity in a manner
which was acceptable and relevant to the Hindu masses. Nobili
told the learned men of Madurai that the true and original Veda,
which was lost, as was believed at that time, still existed in the form
of the Bible, which he called Sattia Veda (True Veda). He told them
that it had been completed and perfected by another Veda and he
had come all the way from Rome to preach the Sattia Veda and all
who accepted it will be saved.55 Similarly, in matters concerning
the ‘afterlife’, we also learn from the accounts of Manucci, which
closely proximate the Biblical Judgement Day.56 Xavier also told
his companions in Rome that the Tiruchendur Brahmins have
agreed with him when he talked about the Christian concept of
hell and paradise.57 For the missionaries all these became an easy
entry point to explain the mysteries of the Christian Trinity, the
Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit by drawing parallels from the
Hindu cosmology.
This proclamation of Christian mysteries coincide with the
existing process of giving increasing attention to the upper half of
 Society, Culture and Conversion 373

the two-tier cosmology and the gradual breakdown of the lower

tier cosmos. Then how did this become accepted? The diffusion of
one supreme God of Christianity was associated with his ability to
deliver people from fears of the malevolent deities, his identifica­
tion with new solutions to the old and new problems in the area
of physical afflictions, and his infinite power of indestructibility
inscribed in the Christian written text: the Bible. Such instances
are visible from the accounts of the missionaries. For instance, in
1544, Xavier wrote to his companions that when he revealed the
presence of one supreme God to ‘the poor, simple people, who are
devoted to them [deities] only through fear … many lose their
respect for the demon and become Christians because of what I
tell them’.58 This means that the revelation of the presence of the
powerful God among them released the people from the fears
of the local deities and spirits. In the same way when expected
revenge had not come against Xavier after he smashed the local
idols the fear of such images was released from their mind.59 Fur­
ther, when the woman of Kombuture gave safe delivery to a child
after he intervened which the local mantra could not cure, all the
people of the village converted to Christianity.60
On another occasion, at a place in Pannaikulam, a catechist
Mayappan had, by his intercession to the Christian God, released
a man from the control of the ‘demon’ so that ‘all the pagan Mara­
vars of that village are very much moved and inclined to become
Christians, for they have noticed the helplessness of the devil who
so easily deceives them’.61 Such instances are crucial in seeing how
the local deities or the lower tier cosmos were discredited one after
another by the invocation of the Christian universal God. By virtue
of its ability to a new solution Christianity was popularly known
in the locality as a religion that delivers people from fears of many
malevolent forces that had pervaded the village society. It should
be noted that as in the case of Europe in late antiquity deliverance
from the fearsome spirits and ‘demons’ came to be an important
factor for the spread of Christianity in Coromandel region. We
will see more on this in the course of our discussion.
374 Jangkhomang Guite

Ammans, Virgin, Holy Ashes and Civil Customs

Another peculiar familiarity between the two religions was in
the worship of goddesses. We have seen that goddess ammans
got prominence during this period. However, the importance of
this evidence for our investigation lies in the fact that the legends
and worship of Virgin Mary also became very popular among
Catholics of the region. This can be seen in two aspects: one, that
the popularity of Goddess worship among the local Hindus must
have also increased the popularity of Blessed Virgin worship in the
local church. On the other hand, the very practice of giving great
esteem to the Virgin in the Christian practice must have greatly
facilitated towards the progress of conversion. Many of the local
churches were dedicated to Mary, as the patron saint. Devotion to
Virgin Mary was practised especially in the region of Thanjavur
and Satyamangalam. In the Satyamangalam region, it was said that
‘not only the Christians persevere in their devotion and favour,
but even the pagans endeavour, on certain occasions to imitate
them’.62
In 1667, one interesting case came from the missionary report
of Thanjavur Residence. It was reported that conversion in that
residence amounted to 401 persons which ‘is ascribed by every­
body to the new church erected this year in honour of the most
Holy Virgin’. It appears that almost the whole village got converted
to Christianity. In that year there was a long drought and the rainy
season was almost over. People were in a state of confusion for fear
of the impending famine. But one fine day when the Christians
of that area, flanked by many others, took colourful procession
towards the new church that was to be consecrated to Virgin on
that day ‘suddenly the sky was covered with thick clouds, and
before the Holy Mass was over, rain fell in torrents’. The report
continued to state that ‘everybody witnessed this as a sign of divine
protection, and the hope of a plentiful harvest was revived in their
hearts.… This great blessing was looked upon as a new sign of pro­
tection of the Heavenly Queen’.63
Once the place of Virgin Mary was consolidated in this way
as a powerful divinity figure in the locality, she would always be
 Society, Culture and Conversion 375

called upon whenever such calamities occurred. In this case the

Virgin Mary became the god of rain for the local people, a similar
place usually assigned to the local tutelary. Although the two events
occurred accidentally in modern scientific sense, for the local
people who were deeply religious such a coincidence was taken
to be due to the intervention of ‘Blessed Virgin’. This is especially
expected of them because of the high adoration given to Goddess
worship in the area. Manucci had sarcastically put that the Hindu
looked on the Blessed Virgin as their Bhagavati and infant Jesus
as Ram. To him this was the reason why both the Christians and
Hindu attended ‘without distinction and without scruple, both the
feast of the Assumption of the Holy Virgin and that of Bhadraka,
which correspond during the same period’.64 He also said that the
‘nocturnal procession’ usually undertaken during this feast was
similar to the local practices of Goddess Bhagavati festival such
as the cross in the front covered with flowers, followed by the
Statue of Virgin surrounded by parasols, the fire-fighters and then
several Christians and Hindus.65 Besides, he said that contrary to
the Catholic practices the altars in the Jesuit churches were ‘quite
low, without crucifix or candlesticks, merely with a statue of the
Virgin’.66 What is important in such similar practices, as also noted
by Manucci, is the acceptability of Virgin Mary in the local soci­
ety. These similar facets became an easy entry point for the local
people towards Christianity. Her power of delivering people from
state of fears had given her a position of advantage over the local
goddesses. Then, for the local people conversion to Christianity
apparently meant a mere shifting of allegiance from Hindu God­
dess worship to the Blessed Virgin.
Manucci also talked about the use of ‘holy ashes’ by both Hin­
dus and Christians, which he called ‘anti-Christ’. It was actually
the mark of the sects in Hinduism. This ash was applied in the
body part in such a manner that different followers of the prevail­
ing sects could be identified readily by it. The practice was also
recognized in the Roman Catholic Church under the Jesuits. Such
ashes were bought from the market but had to be blessed by the
padre before being used, which was an ‘express precaution of for­
bidding the invocation’ of Hindu gods.67 The ‘holy ashes’ were used
376 Jangkhomang Guite

not only on their body but also during several occasions such as to
prevent the crops from pests.
Besides, most of the local burial and marriage customs were
incorporated into Christian practice with the usual pomp of night
procession, fireworks, dead man on the throne, betel for the dead,
sect marks, marriage under peepal tree planted in middle of the
lawn, circumambulation of the altars three times, etc.68 For our
analysis, such incorporation of local customs, no matter how
strongly it was condemned by its opponents, were rather credited
for the large number of conversions to Christianity.

Saints, Missionaries and Gurus

Another aspect of similarity between Hindu and Christianity was
the importance of cult and saint worship. Such a tradition was
already deeply entrenched since the coming of the Bhakti saints
in the eleventh century. By virtue of their extraordinary powers
they had attained cult status in the local religious pantheons. This
was also the case about many of the Christian missionaries in the
region. They were venerated not only by the local people but such
practices were also well entrenched in Christian traditions of the
time. In every church built by the Catholic missionary one patron
saint was venerated, and the image of that particular saint, made
of wood or stone, was usually placed in that church. It is true that
the missionaries did not see these things in the light of local Hindu
worship of images, but for the local people these statues were
actually perceived to be another kind of powerful image imbued
with divinity.
Around the first three Jesuit missionaries in south India St
Francis Xavier, Roberto de Nobili and St John de Britto a host
of legends and miraculous stories were created. Such stories and
legends were more closely related with the local folk heroes and
warrior saints and other cultic assemblages.69 St Xavier and St
Ignatius were worshipped in the local community as the saints of
fertility, health for the child, and other favours. The missionaries
also encouraged the invocation of their names in certain cases. For
instance, when a pariah couple took recourse to Fr Bathasar de
 Society, Culture and Conversion 377

Costa for not having any child, the latter encouraged them to pray
to Saint Francis Xavier and assured them that he would console
them and grant them a child.70 Surprisingly, the woman gave birth
to a child soon after that. The name of Xavier was especially popu­
lar in the region of Tiruchirapalli and Kandalur. Fr Freye reported
that the people of this region showed such respect and honour to
St Xavier that one could not see what more they could do to please
him and ‘if in their afflictions and troubles they turn to none but
that saint, who hears their prayers and grant them signal favours’.
He continued to write that Xavier was ‘particularly propitious to
those who are childless. Several couples obtained children through
his intersession to the great astonishment of all, either because
both father and mother were advanced in age or because they were
looked upon as barren’.71 No wonder, by 1678, Fr Ignatius da Costa
reported that ‘devotion to St. Francis Xavier is general, and the
favours he obtains for this mission are continuous, especially in
this residence (Kandalur) where the church (is dedicated) to his
name’.72
A church dedicated to his name became a centre of pilgrim­
age not only for Christians but also for local Hindus. In 1678, Fr
Freye reported that Kandalur had the finest church in the Mission,
attended by large crowds of worshippers. He also wrote that to this
church came all the Christians of all places.73 Likewise, Kavana­
karai, in the province of Satyamangalam grew into a big village
by 1678 ‘because of large number of Christians who crowded
there, and the convenience of the place for the exercise of all our
ministries’. Thousands of devotees from various parts of the mis­
sion used to throng to the place especially during festive sessions.
Here festivals were celebrated with ‘great display among a large
concourse of Christians and even of pagans who were anxious to
witness those tragicomic plays which the Fathers composed on the
lives of saints, in order to rouse the devotion of all’.74 When they
assemble for festivals, it was reported, ‘you would take them for an
army’.75 The church here was dedicated to Our Blessed Virgin to
which both the Christians and the Hindus came with great devo­
tion.
Similarly, Roberto de Nobili became a local guru and was
378 Jangkhomang Guite

venerated after his death as a man of learning and sanctity.76 Like­

wise, John de Britto, who was killed in 1693, was perceived as one
of the local hero martyr saints who possess both political and mili­
tary powers as those of the local poligars. During his lifetime, he
was associated with the mission amongst the martial warrior clans
of Ramnad and his legend was associated with elaborate sufferings
and powers of healing and the mystic tradition of blood and sacri­
fice.77 Although it was not the intention of the missionaries to have
the people identify the Christian saints with the image of local dei­
ties, the encouragement to invoke the saints for certain favours did
actually deify them. Bayly called this the ‘cult worship tradition’ of
the local people that had entered the Christian pantheon.78 But it
should be added here that such practices did not enter the Chris­
tian way just only because of the dynamic local tradition but also
because such a practice was also already in vogue in Christianity,
albeit in different forms. As argued, this very familiarity provided
an easy entry point for the local people to accept Christianity.
Besides, the missionaries were associated with various heal­
ing powers during their lifetime. Many people, both Christian
converts and the local Hindus, were said to have thronged their
residences with their various problems. For instance, at a place
called Satyamangalam, when Fr Arcolini could heal a ‘Brahmin’
from his infirmities, ‘the news of such a wonderful change spread
immediately through out Sathiyamangalam’ so that ‘crowds of
people rich and poor, high and low, came to the Father’s house
with tales of their infirmities’.79 In another case, when Fr Freye
was forbidden to enter Vettavalam in Gingee kingdom he fixed
his abode in the neighbouring rocky mountain. He reported that
‘as soon as the pagans of Vettavalam and the whole district heard’
of his arrival, ‘they came on so steadily, and in such large num­
bers, that during the last 15 days I stayed there, I was surrounded
from dawn to dusk by a large number of gentiles except for a few
hours’. He continued to write that ‘the affability shown to me by
the common people, the respect with which they would kiss my
feet, as those of a man who professed to lead a penitential life, and
ask my blessing as from a spiritual guru was something incred­
ible’. This account is interesting due to the fact that the Christian
 Society, Culture and Conversion 379

missionaries were not only highly esteemed by the Christians but

also by others. It was exactly how the local people used to show
themselves to anyone who led a ‘penitential life’. In fact, such a
moment inaugurated the integration of the missionaries among
the pantheons of local saints and cults. Seeing all this, the Father
taught them Christian religion as much as he could tell them ‘leav­
ing the hearts of several inflamed with the desire of becoming
Christians’. He even converted seven of them during his stay.80 This
shows that the association of missionaries with powerful healing
powers provided the way to associate with the people to whom he
could preach the gospel.
The association of power divinities to the missionaries was
so deeply entrenched in the locality that anything associated with
them became suffused with divine powers. One interesting aspect
of such belief came at the death of Fr Francis Perez at Nagapat­
tinam in 1583, that as soon he died the owner of the house,
… saw 30 scissors busy cropping his head to secure his hairs by way of
relics, and that when they had all been plucked out he had been carried
to the grave with a head perfectly bald. Some even pulled out the hairs of
his beard; others cut his nails; others again plundered him of his clothes
with such eagerness that whoever returned from that funeral after having
secured something deemed himself most fortunate.81

This account is not a rare event in the life of the missionaries.

Similar instances also came at the death of Fr Antonio de Proenza
on 14 December 1666 in which it was reported that the Christians
‘set about cutting bits of his clothes, and even his hair, which in
their devotion they meant to preserve as precious relics’.82 At his
death ‘everyone bewailed him with tears, sobs and groans, as if
he had been his own father, and indeed so he was by his love, his
conversation, his kind deeds’ and ‘many not satisfied with shed­
ding abundant tears added more precious token of their gratitude
such as fasting, alms and various other meritorious works’.83 Even
their graveyards and other physical symbols, associated with their
lifetime were considered holy and having some divine powers.
Not only that, Christianity represented itself to the village
communities in such a way that signs or symbols of Christianity
380 Jangkhomang Guite

the cross, relics of pious Christians, the statue were seen to be

possessed of divine powers. Such practices were also in close
conformity with the local village traditions. Some instances need
elaboration here. In one of the letters dated 14 July 1667, Fr Freye
wrote to his superior that in one village when a woman was ‘pos­
sessed by the devil’ she was cured by a mere sign of the cross which
her husband made on her mouth.84 Similarly, catechist Rayappan,
in the Residence of Korangapattu, had also cured a girl possessed
by the ‘devil’ after she drank the water in which he dipped the relic
of the apostle, St Thomas.85 Many such instances were reported in
the missionary letters where the Christian relics were used to solve
problems. Indeed, the belief explained the phenomenon and the
ritual confirmed the belief.
It was in the later half of sixteenth century that such a belief
had attained maturity on the Fishery Coast. For instance, accord­
ing to the annual report of 1582, ‘The churches and crosses are
held in great esteem, not only by the Christians, but also by the
pagans, who came from the interior to worship them, and bring
great presents. Some compose in their own language various kinds
of verses in praise of the most Holy Cross.’86 Whatever may be the
case, it still holds that the apparent similarities between the beliefs
on such relics and cult traditions, as noted above, were one of the
important factors at work for the hasty acceptance of Christianity
in the Coromandel region.

Caste, Pariahs and Conversions

‘Caste’, as a discursive theme in explaining conversion, is seen here
as contributing towards conversions rather than hindering it. In
fact, most of the converts in the Madurai Mission were mainly
composed of the ‘low caste’ and Dalits. But to interpret the caste
system or for that matter liberation from it or the kind of social
uplift as the main cause of conversion is likely to be misleading
here. This is because the church itself practised the caste system to a
great extent as a strategy generally known as ‘top-down’ approach.
It did not want to interrupt the caste system as it considered it as a
‘social’ and ‘not religious’ practice. Nor was the kind of economic
 Society, Culture and Conversion 381

impetus or ‘rice Christians’ tenable as the Jesuits had neither the

resources nor the kind of avenues to uplift the economic status of
the ‘low caste’ people.
Since the time of Robert de Nobili, a category of missionar­
ies the sannyasis, garbed as ‘Roman Brahmins’ worked among the
dominant caste Hindus. By 1640, another group of missionaries
called the Pandaraswamis worked among the ‘low caste’ and dalits.
Likewise, separate churches were built for the ‘low’ and ‘high’ caste
besides incorporating the various religious practices of the local
people. In 1684, Fr Jerome Tellez reported that he built a church in
the woods of Kooraipatti ‘with a door opening towards the dens­
est part of the forest, so that the pariahs who are there can hear
mass, and myself attend to them’ as there was not a single church
throughout his area for the pariahs and other ‘low castes’ and they
were never admitted into the village and churches where the old
padres were residing. This was done ‘to satisfy everybody without
giving the pagans occasion to blaspheme.’87 Thus pariahs remained
pariahs even after conversion.
A few more instances of strict observance of the caste sys­
tem by Christians can also be cited. For instance, the Residence
of Kandalur was mainly created for the use of the ‘low caste’
Christians in 1648 ‘to allow the Father residing at Tiruchirappalli
to administer more easily to the Christian pariahs who could
not be admitted into the town of Tiruchirappalli on account of
their caste’. In Tiruchirappalli, the missionary worked amongst
the ‘low caste’ people only at night and only when they were ill
and while others were ‘fast asleep’ stayed the whole night at their
houses ‘hearing their confessions in the most remote and secret
places’. As for the other ‘low caste’ they had to go to Kandalur.88
By 1667, it was reported that ‘the low caste Christians who attend
the church of Kandalur is very great, for this place being isolated
is very convenient to administer the Christians of that class’.89 In
1677, it became ‘the best and most convenient’ station, and was
‘used for all castes’.90 Similarly, in the Residence of Satyamangalam
it was reported that the ‘high caste’ ‘have no interaction with the
low caste Christians, whom in their needs, and when they have
to receive the sacraments, are attended by the Pandaram Fathers
382 Jangkhomang Guite

who are the nearest of them’.91 In 1678, Fr John de Britto also built
‘a madam (platform) in the woods of Sirukandambanur which is
about twelve leagues south-east of Thattuvancherri’ for the ‘low
caste’ and later provided sacraments to ‘numerous and excellent
Christians’.92
It is clear from the above accounts that the caste system was
strictly practised among the Christians. For the missionaries, there
was no high or low caste but they had to adhere to such practices
strictly in order not to alienate the local people. Every effort was
made not to mix themselves up among all castes, on the one hand,
and not to mix the people of the ‘low’ and ‘high’ castes. This was
especially because all Europeans were generally known as parangis
and were considered to be outcaste by the local people due to their
association with the pariahs. Thus, separate churches, mostly in
an isolated place, were built for the pariahs and other outcastes.
Therefore, it is enough to state here that the caste liberation and
social upliftment theory in relation to conversions is untenable.
Then how can one explain the role of caste in the process of con­
version to Christianity? It is argued here that the practice of caste
system in Christianity itself is seen to be the cause of conversion
for people from both the dominant and oppressed castes.
For the dominant caste Hindus, becoming Christian did not
affect their caste standing in the society. For instance, during the
weaver caste conference of 1667 in Satyamangalam, it was dis­
cussed in great detail whether conversion to Christianity led to
the loss of one’s caste privileges. When all the caste notables who
were present in the conference were told that there were many
Christians belonging to honourable castes, and even to the caste
of Brahmins, ‘it was solemnly decided that to profess the Christian
faith was no disgrace of any caste, and, therefore, weavers could
freely embrace it without fear of any interference’.93 Fr Freye wrote
that ‘in consequence of this, some weavers asked for baptism, and
today the members of this caste, both Christians and Hindus live
in perfect harmony; which is one efficacious means of promoting
the spread of our holy religion’.94 This is exactly how de Nobili had
visualized it when he first came to Madurai Mission.
There were several advantages to becoming a Christian for
 Society, Culture and Conversion 383

‘low caste’ Hindus, although the caste system in Christianity was

not that friendly. First, the erstwhile outcastes could get the com­
munion of his fellow groups which gave them more social security
as they helped each other in times of need. Kandalur grew into a
big village of the ‘low castes’ as well as a pilgrimage centre to which
several of these caste groups came from different places. In 1667,
Fr Freye wrote that there were numerous ‘low caste’ Christians in
this place who were so fervent and whose piety ‘manifests itself in
their great charity for their neighbour’ and ‘they love each other
like brothers and help one another in all their needs’.95 Again, in
1677, when there was continuous war in the Thanjavur kingdom
many Christians emigrated to the West, in the region of Satya­
mangalam, and founded a new village for themselves and built a
church in it ‘without allowing any pagan to help them, or even
to live in that village’.96 Interestingly, the name of that village was
called Saveriyarpalayam, meaning the village of St Francis Xavier.
Another interesting case also came up in 1682, at Mayilagam vil­
lage near the bank of Kollidam. It was a Christian village of castes
of ‘hunters’ and ‘river watchmen’ who took up arms to defend
themselves against Kallar attacks for not paying tribute to them.
They made a ‘fortress made of earth’ around their villages and the
guard posts were named after Christian saints. As many as 50 to
60 ‘Christian soldiers’ guarded the village day and night until the
attackers went away.97 Likewise, they helped each other in times of
famine, epidemic, etc.
Besides, Christianity offered to the people of ‘low caste’
and Dalits the privileges of eternal life after death whereas they
deserved only hell in local Hindu belief of the time.98 This was
especially true for the pariahs, Pillars, Achivarathars and Sakki­
lyars who were alleged to be ‘infamous and cannot reside within
villages or touch those of other castes, not even their garments or
their vessels, or bring them water, or serve in their houses, or enter
into the temples of their gods’.99 Christianity presented to these
people the company of the missionaries, the gospel and the church
to attend the divine services, the privileges to recite the Holy Scrip­
ture, and, most importantly, it assured them of eternal life after
death, ‘a thing very glorious to them, no doubt, and which has
384 Jangkhomang Guite

never been seen till now in these kingdoms’.100 What the Hindus
deprived them were now offered generously by Christianity. Such
things became a new ‘additional distinction’ for them that would
give them self-esteem and moral thrust. Therefore, the forms of
Christian brotherhood, as well as the presentation of Christianity
as a religion that could provide some sort of self-confidence and
moral thrust in the world and eternal life after death, were regarded
to be the main factors for the conversion of the oppressed caste
people to Christianity. Hence, Christianity found wide acceptance
among these underprivileged people.

Health, Diseases and Medicines

Christianity was also associated with new powerful techniques of
healing physical pain or diseases. This was the use of medicines
in the process of conversions. Hospitals were established at
Punnaikayal, Tuticorin, Manappad, Vaippar, Virapandianpatnam,
Mylapore and Madurai.101 They were flooded with many local sick
people besides the Portuguese themselves. Generally, the Jesuits
were in charge of these hospitals ‘to which the sick come from
all parts of the country’ and received ‘alms’ from them ‘for their
support’.102 Hospitals became a pivotal point of social interaction
from all communities. Not only did the effective use of medicines
in these places work wonders for the people, but the very new
inventions in the region also brought about some psychological
effects in them so that it became a healing place for their various
illnesses. The admiration for such new things greatly worked
in favour of the missionaries. Hospitals were the places where
the seven spiritual works of mercy were undertaken converting
sinners, instructing the ignorant, counselling the distressed,
comforting the sorrowing, bearing the ills patiently, forgiving
wrongs, and praying for the sick and the dead. These wonders
were manifested in their generous donation towards the upkeep
of the hospitals in which they ‘use every means to provide for the
support and comfort’.103
The wonder works of medicine did not end in the hospital
alone. The Jesuits carried with them certain medicines for the
 Society, Culture and Conversion 385

sick and needy. For instance, in 1667 it was known that when Fr
Emmanuel Rodriguez was captured by the palayakkarar or poligar’s
soldier they found a certain kind of medicines in his bag.104 These
consisted of certain dried roots and various other antidotes.105
Again in 1682, we see Fr John de Britto awarding antidotes to two
people who gave him and his companion fire and food and ‘a few
medicines’ to one gentleman who helped them cross the canal.106
This shows that the missionaries always carried with them some
medicine wherever they went. In such an inhospitable climate
and when modern scientific medicines were still rare, the occa­
sional use of such medicines, which were generally imbued with
divine powers, became another wonder for the local people. The
existence of a good number of hospitals, a few passing references
to medicines carried by the missionaries and the few instances of
their use are enough evidence to show that medicine was one part
of the charisma of missionaries.
As much as the hospitals became the place of healing for phys­
ical pains, the churches and the residences of the mission became
also the home of both physical and mental healing for the local
people. People generally resorted to temples or churches whenever
they were afflicted with diseases. As such illness was believed to be
caused by the ‘devils’. Fr Freye had also noticed this when he wrote:
As these people are usually convinced that all incurable diseases, and
others which they do not yield at once to remedies are caused by the
devil, they come in large numbers to this church with the conviction that
by hearing catechism and receiving baptism, they will be cured of their
illnesses … [which] sometimes works in them great wonders, by giving
them the health they so earnestly desire.107

Whenever such people came to the church, it seems likely that they
were first given some remedies, probably some medicines, which
the missionaries always kept with them. This can be seen from
the fact that a ‘seriously ill’ child was once brought to Fr Freye by
their parents who insisted that if their son was cured they and their
relatives would embrace Christianity. He was immediately given
‘some remedies’ and was later ‘completely cured’ after baptism.108
Fr Freye continued to write that ‘it is by such means that God
386 Jangkhomang Guite

brings a large number of pagans belonging to this residence within

the fold of His church’.109 No wonder, by 1684 Fr Luiz de Mello also
reported that ‘those marvellous cures from the devil’s obsession,
by hearing catechism or receiving baptism are so common in this
mission, that to record all the incidents of that kind would be a
tiresome repetition of facts’. He mentioned that ‘it is a commonly
received opinion among the pagans of this Vijayanagar empire
that whosoever wishes to be free from the devil has but to become
a Christian’.110 Therefore, once the association of Christianity and
healing became sufficiently complete in the minds of the people,
conversion in the context of healing could and did take place
without the use of medicine at all. Thus, the healing touch of
medicine, which was usually associated with divine intervention,
had, in the long run, greatly facilitated the process of conversion.

Prints, Pamphlets and the Holy Texts

Another important aspect of the Jesuit mission in the Coromandel
region was the spread of Christianity by the printed word. The
beginning of such was, of course, made by Francis Xavier, during
his stay on the Fishery Coast in the form of catechism written on
palm leaves in local language, Tamil.111 This is also true of all the
succeeding Jesuits working in the region. During his three months
stay on the Fishery Coast, Xavier was able to translate the most
necessary section of the small catechism the sign of the Cross,
the Creed, the Commandments, the Our Father, Hail Mary, Salve
Regina and the Confiteor.112 In addition to these, various sermons
and prayers were also translated into the local language. He left
behind in each village a copy of his catechism written on palm
leaves and told those who knew to copy it, to learn them by heart
and to recite them each day.113 He further appointed catechists in
each village to continue these teachings.
An attempt was also made by de Nobili to bridge the gaps
between the Hindu and Christian religious terminology, and to
find the Tamil expressions of the Bhakti traditions that could be
used in Christian worship. But it was Father C.J. Beschi (1680­
1747), himself an eminent linguist, who initiated the tradition of
 Society, Culture and Conversion 387

Tamil devotional literature.114 The Jesuit missionaries took great

pains to learn the local language and translated the Holy Scriptures
into them.115 Countless pamphlets and booklets, containing leg­
ends, historiographies and devotional songs and booklets in Tamil
were issued by the Madurai mission in the later seventeenth and
early eighteenth centuries. These printed works were consciously
presented in a form, which resembled the local tradition of epics,
myths and legends.116
The introduction of religious text to all the worshippers, espe­
cially to ‘low caste’ people, was something new in the region. It is
to be noted that the local people in the Coromandel region highly
valued any written text. But the Hindu texts and canons, which
were written in Sanskrit, were not accessible to the common man.
It was the privileged right of the Temple brahmins. Besides, per­
sons belonging to the oppressed caste were completely deprived of
reading and reciting the holy texts of the Hindu canon. This facili­
tated the progress of Christianity in that the deprived groups were
now allowed access to the holy texts of the Christian religion. The
effects were especially forceful when the scriptures were translated
into the local languages and script.
The fact that the ‘low caste’ people got the privilege to learn
and recite the religious canons in their own language is enough
to explain the intellectual and psychological effects it could bring
on them. The tenets of Christian doctrine and the other Chris­
tian literature of Tamil characters were available in printed form.
Fr De Souza had informed us that Fr De Faria not only engraved
but cast the Tamil type ‘with which were printed this year (1578)
the Flos Sanctorum (lives of the saints), the Christian doctrine, a
copious confessionary (or prayer book), and other books in which
the missionaries learned how to read and write’.117 He goes on to
write that ‘these countries marvelled at the new invention, and
pagans as well as Christians tried to obtain these printing books
and prized them highly’.118 Not only the Christians but people of
other religious traditions also purchased the printed Christian
doctrines. This explains how the local people of the Coromandel
valued written texts in any form. The ‘marvel’ for those books does
not necessarily signify their curiosity over the Christian doctrine
388 Jangkhomang Guite

but rather manifests their changing state of mind. However, once

they read those texts on the Christian doctrine, those books acted
as a medium of disseminating the Christian faith to the people.
It thus happened that once those books were made available in
the locality ‘God’ walked among the local people even without the
missionaries. This is especially true to the oppressed caste people
who could now read and recite the ‘power filled doctrine’ which
would be ‘a thing glorious to them and which has never been seen
till now in these kingdoms’. Thus it is held that the culture of dis­
semination of literature among the people had greatly facilitated
the progress of Christianity in the region.

Interlinking Famines, Epidemics and Conversions

As we have seen in the previous section, the later half of
seventeenth century witnessed three major famines in 1660-2,
1675-9, and 1686-9 and a dreaded flood and epidemics in 1677.
The following pages sketch some correlations between the events
of conversions and such calamities and seek to answer how they
contributed towards conversions. Such correlations can be most
visible during the devastating wars, famine, flood and epidemics
of 1675-8. We have regular accounts of annual conversions from
1674-83.119 It was seen that there was a continuous growth of
conversions in the kingdom of Madurai where famine hit the
hardest. The number of conversions during three years (1674-6)
reached 6,303.120 This was especially significant in the Residences
of Vadugapatti and Kandalur (or Tiruchirappalli) which touched
the figure of around 3,730.121 Even in Mullipadi Residence, we
have around 207 conversions that rose to 247 in 1677 and 297 in
1678. Again the outbreak of flood followed by epidemics during
the month of December in 1677 and early 1678 were followed
by the rise in conversions in many places. In the Residence of
Nandavanam, there were 504 conversions. The accounts of the
Residences of Kavanakarai and Ellamangalam were not reported
due to the death of the two missionaries working there. We also
find a similar rise in the number of conversions in the Residences
of Koranapattu and Kattur, which had recorded 335 and 1280
 Society, Culture and Conversion 389

converts respectively. The whole of Madurai Mission recorded

11,648 converts from 1674-8, the period of large-scale devastation
caused by wars, famines and epidemics. The report of 1679-81 of
the Jesuit missionaries recorded as many as 8,357 converts during
the three years, mostly from the affected areas. Similar accounts of
a spectacular rise in the number of conversions can also be seen
during the famine of 1686-9.122
Therefore, in the foregoing accounts, one can make a corre­
lation between conversions and the incidence of famines, flood
and epidemics. Then, how can we explain this? As we said earlier,
the new changing circumstances brought about a crisis of confi­
dence in the village society. The people resorted to a more reliable
category of divine powers for help to resolve their anxieties. This
was especially hastened during natural calamities, such as famine
and epidemic, that created a kind of mental rush hour for victims.
People took hasty decisions under such sudden calamities in order
to overcome their miseries. This usually took place in two forms
by seeking a new form of solution in preference to the old one
especially when the old orders are found to be helpless, which is
the reason why Christianity was resorted as the new solution, and
by seeking to return, on the part of Christian converts, to their old
order, when Christianity could not help. The crisis of confidence
in human beings caused a kind of to-and-fro movement of people
from one religion to the other. Therefore, it is seen that famine
and epidemics made for the hasty movement of the local people
towards Christianity.
The tendency to move over to another dispensation was fur­
ther reinforced by the successful display of the new solution by
the missionaries. For instance, after the great flood of 1677, crops
were destroyed by an infestation of caterpillars in the regions of
Thattuvacharri and Kodangipatti. Some went to Fr Joao de Britto
for the remedy, who ‘gave them some blessed ashes in order that in
the name of the Almighty and with great faith they might sprinkle
them on the crops’. Surprisingly, after they sprinkled them, ‘all the
caterpillars died and the crops were very abundant’.123 In another
case, Fr de Britto also wrote that ‘the same thing happened to the
pagan Reddi, to whom your Reverence gave holy water and blessed
390 Jangkhomang Guite

ashes for the same purpose’. He also said that ‘all the caterpillars
were destroyed in that field which yielded an abundant crop while
the contrary was the case in the other fields which were utterly rav­
aged by the caterpillars’.124 Once the applications of such remedies
worked successfully it inaugurated the presence of the Christian
god among the locality as the new ‘protector’.
The missionaries also made several physical arrangements
to solve the problems of the local people, such as hygienic food,
water and healthy settlement and use of some medicines. For
instance, when the great flood of 1677 brought violent epidemics
in the region of Kavanakarai, Fr Manuel Correa went there and
besides attending to the many sick, he immediately undertook to
get a well dug up for clean water and cleaned up the villages, even
most probably the dirty houses of the local people.125 It seems that
he also stopped any public meetings in the village as he went to
Ellamangalam to celebrate the feast there for he did not see ‘any
possibility of having it’ in Kavarakarai.126 Such physical measures,
no doubt, served immensely towards the control of contagious
diseases so that Fr Correa later found Kavanakarai as being safe
from the diseases while there were several deaths in the neigh­
bouring villages who ‘were all pagans’.127 Jesuits by their European
experiences must have been quite aware of such measures.
Not only that, the protection of Christians from diseases due to
such physical measures also appeared before the local people due
to the protection given by the Christian god. For instance, in 1677,
we learned that during the plague epidemic in Uthamapalayam
and its neighbourhood so many people died in the Madurai region
that the lord of the land threw the cadavers in the neighbouring
mountains. But to the surprise of all ‘not one of the Christians of
this locality fell a prey to any sickness, their flourishing state of
health being a cause of endless wonder to the pagan’.128 Whatever
may be the cause of their preservation, the local people, especially
the poor and helpless, were now convinced that the god of those
Christians was the only god who could save his devotees from
such plague. This belief was reinforced by the proclamation of the
missionaries who said that such preservation was due to the pro­
tection of their ‘all powerful God’.
 Society, Culture and Conversion 391

Besides, the care given by the missionaries towards His devo­

tees also worked towards conversions of many helpless. Unlike the
Christian communities in the region the other poor were com­
pletely deprived of any assistance from either the rulers of the land
or their neighbours ‘for, if in the days of plenty people show them­
selves generous, in time of famine they close their doors on the
hungry who have no other alternative but to die of starvation and
misery’.129 It was obvious then that the poor would be the greatest
hit by any calamity. Seeing the Christians being taken care of by
the missionaries in times of difficulty the poor, hapless persons
thought conversion was the best way to overcome their anxiety.
There were many circumstances when those acts of mercy or
the works of charity among the needy greatly worked in favour of
the missionaries. Many people converted to Christianity from the
expectation of such favours from the Christians. But such accounts
came mainly in the coastal areas. For instance, in 1583 it was
reported ‘six hundred pagans, who, owing to want and famine, had
retired to the Island of Manar, have been baptized’. A great number
for the same motive sold themselves to the Portuguese and to their
Christian neighbours in the town of St Thomas and ‘3,000 of them
became Christians’.130 We are also told that during the famine of
1626 about 4,000 people who came from the hinterland turned
towards Christianity in the Fishery Coast.131 Way back in 1542 we
also learn that due to famine that had infested the whole country­
side many migrated to the city of Mylapore and 1,800 of them were
then converted to Christianity.132 In fact, the mass conversions of
the Paravars, Karaiyars and Mukkuvars in the coastal areas were
caused by such circumstances. The details of the circumstances
leading to their conversions fairly indicate the urgency of preserv­
ing their very life-giving occupation, pearl fishing, that was under
serious threat from their neighbouring Kayalar Muslims.133 For the
sake of a livelihood, the Paravars accepted Christianity in order to
avail the protection of the Portuguese naval forces. But when the
Paravars actually solved their jati crisis by becoming Christians
and availed Portuguese protection the trend was already set for the
other groups like the Karaiyars134 and the Mukkuvars135 who were
also inflicted with crises under the changed environment.
392 Jangkhomang Guite

However, many Christians returned to Hinduism, especially

when they felt that the Christian god could not help them. We also
have several individual cases of relapse. Besides, group retrench­
ment also occurred on account of the persecution of Christians
in Thanjavur kingdom around 1701. Manucci wrote that to gain
exemption from persecution many Christians, ‘at one stroke …
returned all of a sudden to their former vomit, and asserted they
are Hindus, denying they had ever been anything else’. He said
that there were ‘as many as five thousand’ among the pariahs who
returned to their former religion, Hinduism. He also expressed
his fear that all the Christian community might return to Hindu­
ism if the persecution did not stop.136 Thus, we can see that people
tended to move from one religion to another whenever there was
crisis in their present religion.
There was an apparent correlation between large-scale con­
version movements and a crisis of confidence in life. While wars,
famine, flood and epidemics facilitated the process of conversions,
it was basically the work of charity and care taken by the mission­
aries and the apparent protection of Christians by their god during
such calamities that led many poor people towards Christianity.
In the same way when Christianity could not protect them from
persecution these people did not hesitate in going back to their
former religion. The calamities and other forms of physical afflic­
tions created what Dick Kooiman called ‘rush hour’ in already
existing religious boundary traffic between the two religions as
we have seen two-way movements during such times.137 Changing
of one’s religion became a social therapy for the grievance-ridden
mass. The suddenness of calamities, which made things quite
hasty and created the loss of confidence in what one had, became
the hallmark of conversion movements in the religious landscape
of Tamil Nadu.

Conclusion
To conclude this paper, it can be said that conversions in the
Coromandel region during the later half of the seventeenth century
 Society, Culture and Conversion 393

can be located mainly within the dynamic socio-religious culture

of the Tamils, in the context of the changing political, economic
and social circumstances. The apparent similarities and the
familiarities of certain ideas and practices between Hinduism and
Christianity were seen to be most important cause of conversion.
Besides, the physical and mental hardships of the people under
continuous crises caused by wars, famines, flood and epidemics
also greatly hastened the process of conversion, as people usually
resorted to another religion as social therapy. This brought about
two-way movement between the existing religious boundaries.
This paper also took into account other factors, such as the social
liberation theory, the economic motive theory and the political
patronage or force conversion theory. However, it is found that
these theories are not tenable in the case of the Madurai mission
during the period of our study. The question of liberation from the
rigid caste system did not arise in the common sense of the local
people as it was also practised in the Christian church. Rather, ‘low
caste’ people came towards Christianity as it could provide them
other privileges and positions such as Christian brotherhood,
church to attend religious services, to be able to hear, read and
recite the Holy Scriptures and, above all, eternal life after death.
Ultimately, it can be said that the dynamic socio-religious culture
of Tamil Nadu provided for the dramatic rise of conversions due
to the fast changing circumstances. The Jesuits and, for that matter,
the Portuguese Estado had neither the power to use forces nor the
resources to control the socio-religious and political situation on
the Coromandel coast, which is rightly termed as the ‘Shadow
Empire’ of Goa in the Bay of Bengal by Winius.138

Notes
1. This paper first appeared in Indian Church History Review, vol. XLII,
no. 2, December 2008, pp. 135-67.
2. K.A. Shastri, ed., Advanced History of India, Bombay, Allied
Publishers, 1971, p. 428; J. Thekkedath, History of Christianity in
India, vol. 2, Church History Association of India, Bangalore, 1988,
p. 227.
394 Jangkhomang Guite

3. Ibid., p. 152.
4. Phillips Baldaeus, A Description of the East India Coast of Malabar
and Coromandel and also the Isle of Ceylon with their Adjacent
Kingdom and Provinces, AES, New Delhi, 2000, p. 651.
5. Thekkedath, op. cit., p. 227.
6. S.J. Stephen, trans., Letters of the Portuguese Jesuits from Tamil
Countryside, 1666-1688, IIES Pondicherry, 2001, p. 65, Fr Freye to Fr
Oliva, 8 May 1677.
7. Ibid., pp. 65-6, Fr Freye to Fr Oliva, 8 May 1677.
8. Ibid., p. 65, Fr Freye to Fr Oliva, 8 May 1677.
9. Ibid., p. 104, Fr Freye to Fr Oliva, 10 July 1678.
10. Ibid., p. 125, Fr Freye to Fr Oliva, 10 July 1678.
11. Ibid., p. 104, Fr Freye to Fr Oliva, 10 July 1678.
12. Ibid., p. 105, Fr Freye to Fr Oliva, 10 July 1678.
13. Ibid., Fr Freye to Fr Oliva, 10 July 1678, p. 106.
14. Ibid., p. 66, Fr Freye to Fr Oliva, 8 May 1677.
15. Ibid., p. 79, Fr Freye to Fr Oliva, 8 May 1677.
16. Ibid., pp. 106-7, Fr Freye to Fr Oliva, 10 July 1678.
17. Ibid., pp. 130-1, Fr Freye to Fr Oliva, 10 July 1678.
18. Ibid., p. 137, Fr Freye to Fr Oliva, 10 July 1678.
19. Ibid., p. 152, Fr Freye to Fr Oliva, 12 July 1679.
20. Ibid., p. 237, Fr Freye to Fr Noyelle, 14 May 1683.
21. Ibid., p. 284, Fr Britto to Fr Noyelle, 9 May 1684.
22. Ibid., p. 186, Fr Freye to Fr Oliva, 25 January 1682.
23. Ibid., p. 284, Fr Britto to Fr Noyelle, 9 May 1684.
24. Ibid., p. 361, Fr Luiz de Mello to Fr Thyrsus Gonsalves, 30 May 1689.
25. Thekkedath, op. cit., p. 152.
26. Ibid., p. 152.
27. Stephen, op. cit., p. 353, Fr Mello to Fr Gonsalves, 30 May 1689.
28. Ibid., p. 357, Fr Mello to Fr Gonsalves, 30 May 1689.
29. Ibid., p. 357, Fr Mello to Fr Gonsalves, 30 May 1689.
30. Ibid., pp. 134-5.
31. A. Lopez, The Annual Letters of 1644, the Jesuit Malabar Province
(tr. L. Besse, 1907), in Madura Varia, Vidyayoti Library, Delhi,
pp. 29-32.
32. Stephen, op. cit., p. 100. The total number of baptisms by this time
had already crossed 60,000.
33. Stephen, op. cit., p. 188.
34. Thekkedath, op. cit., p. 236.
35. The figures given in the table are tabulated on the basis of the number
 Society, Culture and Conversion 395

of baptisms given in the missionary letters. See Stephen, op. cit.,

pp. 62, 100, 147, 180, 188, 276, 327, 346, 371; Lopez, op. cit., pp. 30-2;
Thekkedath, op. cit., pp. 225-6, 228, 246, 248-9.
36. Stephen, op. cit., p. 37
37. Ibid., p. 98, Fr Freye to Fr Oliva, 8 May 1677.
38. J.C. Heesterman, The Inner Conflict of Tradition: Essay in Indian
Ritual, Kingship and Society, Oxford University Press, Delhi, 1985,
pp. 6, 118-27; Brenda E.F. Beck, ‘Symbolic Merger of Body, Space
and Cosmos in Hindu Tamil Nadu’, Comparative Indian Sociology,
1976, pp. 213-43.
39. Such a situation can be clearly seen from the account of the
missionaries. For example, if somebody got ill, the devil’s hand was
blamed or if some diseases occur in the village it was usually ascribed
to the curse of an angry deity.
40. Susan Bayly, Saints, Goddesses and Kings: The Muslims and Christians
in South Indian Society, 1700-1900, Cambridge University Press,
New Delhi, 1992, 1st edn. 1989.
41. Bayly, op. cit., pp. 34-5.
42. Burton Stein, Peasant State and Society in Medieval South India,
Oxford University Press, Delhi, 1985, pp. 456-65. Stein has a fine
table showing the various temples of Tamil Nadu by deity, mandalam
and district from the period between 1300 and 1750. This table was
based on the authentic 1961 Census of India conducted in the state
of Madras, viz., Census of India 1961, vol. 9, Madras State, pt. XI-D:
Temples of Madras State, 7 volumes. See also his article, ‘Temples in
Tamil Country, 1300-1750 AD’, IESHR, 14.1 (1977), pp. 11-45.
43. H. Bugge, Mission and Tamil Society, Curzon Press, Richmond, 1994,
p. 20; Shulman, David, ‘South Indian Bandits and Kings’, Indian
Economic and Social History Review, IESHR, 1980, pp. 283-306.
44. Niccolao Manucci, Storia do Mogor or Mugul India, Low Price
Publication, New Delhi, 1996, 1st edn. 1907-8, pp. 3-4.
45. Stephen, op. cit., pp. 278-9, Fr Britto to Fr Noyalle, 9 May 1684.
46. Tribal cosmology of two-tiered structure was employed to explain
the process of conversions by Eaton, Richard M., ‘Conversion to
Christianity Among the Nagas, 1876–1971’, IESHR, 21.1 (1984), pp.
1-52; Horton, Robert, ‘On Rationality of Conversion’, Africa, 1971
and Oommen, George, ‘Re-reading tribal Conversion Movement:
The Case of the Malayarayans of Kerala, 1848-1900’, Religion and
Society, 44 (1997), pp. 66-82.
47. Manucci, op. cit., pp. 21-3.
396 Jangkhomang Guite

48. Stephen, op. cit., pp. 30-3.

49. Ibid., pp. 341-5.
50. Ibid., pp. 330-3.
51. Ibid., p. 77.
52. Ibid., p. 362.
53. Manucci, op. cit., pp. 6-21.
54. J. Costelloe, The Letters and Instructions of Francis Xavier, Anand:
Gujarat Sahitya Prakash, 1993, p. 70, Xavier to his companions in
Rome, 15 January 1544.
55. Stephen, op. cit., p. 53.
56. Thekkedath, op. cit., p. 215 where he has cited J. Castete, L’Ancienne
du Madure, p. 138.
57. Manucci, op. cit., p. 24.
58. Costelloe, op. cit., p. 67, Xavier to his companions in Rome, 15
January 1544.
59. Ibid., p. 70, Xavier to his companions in Rome, 15 January 1544.
60. Ibid., p. 66.
61. Ibid., pp. 61-2, 28 October 1542; see also D Schurhammer, Francis
Xavier: His Life and His Time, vol. 2, India (1541-45), Jesuit Historical
Institute, Rome, 1977, p. 298.
62. Schurhammer, op. cit., p. 57.
63. Stephen, op. cit., p. 38.
64. Ibid., pp. 6-7, Fr. Freye to Fr. Oliva, 14 July 1667.
65. Manucci, op. cit., pp. 326-39.
66. Ibid., pp. 326-7.
67. Ibid., p. 335.
68. Ibid., p. 328.
69. Ibid., pp. 333-5.
70. Bayly, op. cit., pp. 329-30.
71. Stephen, op. cit., p. 23.
72. Ibid., pp. 22-3.
73. Ibid., p. 122.
74. Ibid., p. 120.
75. Ibid., pp. 136-7.
76. Ibid., p. 92.
77. Bugge, op. cit., p. 46
78. Bayly, op. cit., pp. 398-400; Bugge, op. cit., p. 46
79. For details of Bayly argument see Ibid., pp. 379-419.
80. Ibid., p. 39.
81. Ibid., pp. 69-70.
 Society, Culture and Conversion 397

82. H. Hosten, The Works of Rev. H. Hosten, vol. 21, p. 127, Jesuit Letters
of 1583.
83. Stephen, op. cit., pp. 26-7; Fr Freye to Fr Oliva, 14 July 1667
84. Stephen, op. cit., p. 26.
85. Ibid., p. 28, Fr Freye to Fr Oliva, 14 July 1667.
86. Ibid., p. 157, Fr Freye to Fr Oliva, 12 July 1679.
87. Hosten, op. cit., p. 122, Jesuit Annual Letters of 1582.
88. Stephen, op. cit., p. 288.
89. Ibid., pp. 18-21.
90. Ibid., p. 18.
91. Ibid., pp. 81-2.
92. Ibid., p. 37.
93. Ibid., p. 160.
94. Ibid., pp. 42-3, Fr Freye to Fr Oliva, 14 July 1667.
95. Ibid., p. 43.
96. Ibid., p. 20.
97. Ibid., p. 94.
98. Ibid., p. 220.
99. Manucci, op. cit., pp. 24-5.
100. Stephen, op. cit., p. 281, Fr Britto to Fr Noyelle, 9 May 1684.
101. Lopez, Andrew, The Annual Letters of 1644, p. 30.
102. Thekkedath, op. cit., pp. 263-4; Stephen, op. cit., p. 312.
103. Hosten, op. cit., p. 123, Jesuit annual letter of 1582.
104. Ibid., p. 133, the annual letters of 1586-7.
105. Stephen, op. cit., p. 47, Fr. Freye to Fr. Oliva, 14 July 1667.
106. Ibid.
107. Ibid., pp. 202-3.
108. Ibid., pp. 324-5.
109. Ibid.
110. Ibid., p. 325.
111. Ibid., p. 348.
112. Costelloe, op. cit., pp. 64-5.
113. Schurhammer, op. cit., p. 308; Costelloe, op. cit., p. 65, Xavier to his
companions in Rome, 15 January, 1544.
114. Costelloe, op. cit., p. 336.
115. Bugge, op. cit., p. 45.
116. Those Jesuits involved in such tasks were Frs. Henriques, Faria,
Nobili, Freye, Beschi, etc.
117. Bugge, op. cit., p. 46.
118. Rev. C.G. Rodeles, ‘Earliest Jesuit Printing in India’ (tr. L.Cardon &
398 Jangkhomang Guite

H. Hosten), Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal, n.s. 23 (1927),

p. 164.
119. Thekeddeth, op. cit., pp. 164-5.
120. Stephen, op. cit., pp. 64-328, Jesuit’s Madurai Missions Letters of
1677, 1678, 1679, 1682, 1683 and 1684.
121. Ibid., p. 100: Fr. Andres Freyre, 1667, 1677.
122. Ibid., pp. 81-9, 120-33.
123. These figures from different mission centres are computed from
the letters of the Jesuit missionaries in the areas as was adapted in
Stephens, op. cit.
124. Ibid., p. 110, Fr Freye to Fr Oliva, 10 July 1678.
125. Ibid., p. 110.
126. Ibid., p. 138, 3 March 1678.
127. Ibid.
128. Ibid., p. 138, Fr Correa to Fr Amadio, 3 March 1678.
129. Ibid., pp. 130-1, Fr Freye to Fr Oliva, 10 July 1678.
130. Ibid., p. 151, Fr Freye to Fr Oliva, 12 July 1679.
131. Hosten, op. cit., vol. 21, p. 127.
132. Thekkedath, op. cit., II, p. 179; where he cited L. Besse, La Mission,
pp. 440-1.
133. A.M. Mundadan, History of Christianity in India, vol. 1, Bangalore:
Church History Association of India, 1989, p. 427, where he cited
Correa, Lindas Da India, iv, p. 131.
134. For the details of Paravars’ conversions, See Schurhammer, ‘Letters
of Joao da Cruz’, pp. 58-9; See also from the same author, Francis
Xavier, op. cit., pp. 258-67; and Costelloe, op. cit., pp. 60-3, Xavier
Letters to Ignatius, 28 October, 1542; Baldaeus, A Description,
p. 645.
135. On the Conversions of Karaiyars see Schurhammer, op. cit., pp. 294,
347-54; Costelloe, op. cit.
136. On Mukkuvars see Costelloe, op. cit., pp. 104-5 and to Mansilhas,
18 December 1544, p. 117 and to his companions, 27 January 1545
137. Manucci, op. cit., p. 314.
138. Dick Kooiman, ‘Mass Movements, Famine and Epidemics: A Study
in Interrelationship’, Modern Asian Studies, 25.2 (1991), pp. 281­
301.
 CHAPTER 15

Introduction of New Literature under the Aegis

of Christian Missions in Mizoram
J.V. HLUNA

The focus of this paper will be on the contributions of the Welsh

mission with special attention to its impact on the emergence and
development of Mizo literature. Certain omissions will, no doubt,
be made, as we shall be dealing with a broad field of interest. At the
same time, other relevant matters in conjunction with our main
subject shall also be touched upon. In this context, one cannot
avoid introducing the discourse, right from developments prior
to the emergence of the missionaries, and the contributions of our
pioneer missionaries. Of these, we shall look briefly at the works of
T.H. Lewin and missionaries like the Revd. William Williams, F.W.
Savidge and J.H. Lorrain.

Works before the Arrival of the Missionaries

In 1869, a renowned book relating to the history and dialect
of the Mizo people was published. This book, The Hill Tracts
of Chittangong and the Dwellers Therein, With Comparative
Vocabularies of the Hill Dialects, was written by Thangliana (Lt Col
Thomas Herbert Lewin/Tom Lewin), who had been appointed as
the hill tribes superintendent (later deputy commissioner) in 1866
by the Crown. Others books by Lewin, which were subsequently
published, were Wild Races of South Eastern India (1870) and Hill
Proverbs of the Inhabitants of the Chillagong Hill Tracts (1873). In
1872, Lewin moved his residential bungalow, market and hospital
from Rangamati to Tlabung, and in 1873, Rothangpuia’s subjects
400 J.V. Hluna

built a cottage for him at a pleasant site on the Sirte Hills. This
cottage was apparently nicknamed Uncle Tom’s Cabin by his close
friends. Hence, at his leisure, he spent much time studying and
preparing a dictionary of the Mizo language and grammar.1
His great interest in the language resulted in the publication of
Progressive Colloquial Exercises in the Lushai Dialect of the Dzo of
Kuki Language with Vocabularies and Popular Tales in 1874. This
120-page volume contained a Mizo-English Dictionary with 1,256
words and an English-Mizo Dictionary with 1,105 words. He also
included three popular folktales—Chemtatrawta, Lalruanga and
Kungawrhi—all written in Mizo language. Besides these, he also
authored in English A Fly on the Wheel or How I Help to Govern
India, published in 1912. The works of Thangliana thus herald the
foundation of Mizo literature. It is noteworthy that a quarter of a
century, before the Mizo alphabet was created, he had already used
the Hunterian system in his writings.
Apart from the works of Lewin, other books of note on similar
subjects published during the time were—A Grammar of Lushai
Language (1884), by Brojo Nath Saha and Rangkol-Kuki-Lushai
Grammar (1885) by C.A. Soppit. These books served well as a
guide to the Mizo language and as part of the pioneering literature
in the language. Other books on Mizo history, with no particu­
lar focus on the language, include The Lushais 1878-1889 by H.R.
Browne, Handbook of the Lushai Country (1889) by A.O. Cham­
bers, and Chin-Lushai Land (1893) by A.S. Reid. These volumes,
written both in English and Mizo, laid the foundation for the birth
of Mizo literature and these government officials deserved credit
for their invaluable contributions.2

First Visitors
The first visitor to Mizoram with the mission of Gospel Outreach
was a Welsh missionary in Khasi Hills—Rev. William Williams.
In February 1891, he left Shella for Shillong, from where he and
his three companions made their way to Mizoram on 15 February
1891. They first encountered a group of young Mizo lads at
Changsil at the coast of the Tlawng river on 15 March 1891 and
followed them to their village. The Mizo people had never seen
 Introduction of New Literature 401

a matchbox, so whenever Williams and his companions struck a

match, they would gather round the light in complete amazement.
Seeing their wonder, Williams found this an ideal opportunity to
share Bible pictures with them. These pictures made the people so
happy they would all laugh aloud with abandon. Some even tried
talking to the pictures! Williams also tried to teach the children to
sing but found that no one dared to open their mouths. However,
as they were about to go on their way to Aizawl, he heard voices
attempting to sing the very songs he had taught. Williams and
his companions reached the Mizos and distributed pictures of
Jesus among them. He earnestly hunted for Mizo youths he could
take with him to Khasi Hills where they would be educated, but
found none willing. They were fearful of being taken away for
good, as they had never seen the return of their chiefs who were
taken away as political prisoners. At the time of Williams’ visit,
tensions were high over British invasions, so certain restrictions
were imposed upon their stay in Mizoram and they left Mizoram
on 17 April 1891. After reaching the Khasi Hills, he sent a report
on Mizoram to the missions’ secretary in Wales, after which the
general assembly decided upon founding a mission in Mizoram.3

Arthington Mission
Three years after the first visit of Revd. William Willams, Rev.
F.W. Savidge (who came to be known as Sap Upa) and Rev. J.H.
Lorrain (known to the Mizos as Pu Buanga) arrived at Aizawl, on
11 January 1894. They first pitched their tents on the hill that now
houses the Mizo High School, and they camped there for three
years. During these years, they were mainly engaged in the study
of the Mizo language and the compilation of books. Pu Buanga was
quite skilled in such matters and in these three years, the body of
his work included—Mizo A Aw B (Mizo Alphabet), Thu-Inchhang
Bu (Responsive Reading Book), Hymn Book and a Dictionary.
He also had the Gospels of Luke and John and the Book of Acts
translated into Mizo.
In his work, he had the help of three natives, namely—Pu
Suaka (chief of Durtlang), Pu Thangphunga (chief of Chaltlang)
and Pu Khamliana (chief of Lungleng). At this time, Pu Khamliana
402 J.V. Hluna

could read and write, thus making him the first literate Mizo. An
interesting incident of the time is that during the translations Pu
Suaka and Pu Thangphunga could not agree over the question of
who was greater between Pathian and Khuavang. Such was their
disagreement that Pu Buanga finally decided to use Jehovah for
God in the Mizo translations.
The original Mizo alphabet as compiled by Pu Buanga ran like
this—AW A B C D E F G (ek) NG (eng) H I J (chei) K L M N O
P R S T T(thaw) U V Z CH. The alphabet the Mizos now have is
the revised version developed from this. Successfully creating an
alphabet for a language they had just learnt was a commendable
achievement indeed.
The two missionaries gave the Mizos their first hymn, ‘Jisu­
vana a om a …’, which was fittingly put down at number one in
the earlier Mizo Christian Hymnal. At the eastern end of the Mizo
High School field (near the present chief minister secretariat), they
erected a place of worship where they would gather singing songs
to the accompaniment of a mouth organ. This was a new phenom­
enon for the Mizos and an incident is reported of the time when a
man looked in and asked, ‘where is the beer cask?’ because singing
in fellowship was unheard of without beer being served.
Near their campsite and this church building was a bawlhmun,
a site for the practice of animistic rites. People often came here
with their sacrificial offerings and the missionaries would tell them
that there was a way of healing besides these offerings. Though
the people did not pay much heed to them, they did find that it
was an impressing new thoughts on the minds of the people. The
first church building in Mizoram was thus erected at a bawlhmun.4
Since the pioneer missionaries devoted much of their time in lay­
ing foundations in the forms of producing worthwhile books, they
had no time to travel around and evangelize. We, therefore, have
no records of converts in their time.

Welsh Mission
The general assembly of the Welsh Church in 1892 decided
upon sending missionaries to Mizoram. Hearing this, the two
 Introduction of New Literature 403

missionaries urged them to act upon this decision and send

missionaries while they were still in Mizoram. Rev. David Evan
Jones then landed in Aizawl on 31 August 1897 and he shared four
months (September-December) with his predecessors. During
this time, Rev. D.E. Jones learnt 90 words of Mizo every day and
was much profited by the knowledge gathered by the pioneers.
The church at Khasi Hills also did a commendable job in sending
Raibajur to aid Rev. D.E. Jones in his work.
While Rev. D.E. Jones and his Khasi brethren were busy
evangelizing over the length and breadth of Mizoram, another
missionary, Rev. Edwin Rowlands, also arrived at Aizawl on
31 December 1898. Soon they were both given Mizo names—
Revd. D.E. Jones became Zosaphluia, and Revd. Edwin Rowlands
was named Zosapthara.

Welsh Missionaries
A total of 35 missionaries were sent to Mizoram, out of which 14
were medical missionaries, while 21 were church-based, being
pastors and teachers. Zosaphuia and Zosapthara were truly the
pillars of the church in Mizoram, and their contributions were
immense, both physically and spiritually. Zosaphluia was in
Mizoram for 30 years, between 1897 and 1926, while Zosapthara
stayed only for 10 years between 1898 and 1908. However, there is
no doubt that his efforts had a great impact on the development,
which covered the Mizo people in varied ways. The pair of them
covered the northern and southern hills of Mizoram with great
zeal. To them goes the credit for laying the foundations of the
gospel in Mizoram, introduction and development of formal
education, music and literature to a large extent.
The two pastors immediately set upon continuing the work of
translating the Bible, which Pu Buanga and Sap Upa had begun.
They translated the books of Matthew, Mark, Ephesiand, Colossian,
Philippians, The Acts, Philemon, Galatians, Hebrews, Corinthians
and Revelations and had them published in succession. They also
reworked on some of the earlier translations. They also prepared
institutional textbooks for general education—arithmetical texts,
404 J.V. Hluna

graded readers (Zirtan Bu, Zirtirh Bu thar, Thu-Ro Bu, Bu Lai I &
II, Hma Bu, Elementary Studies in English, On Health Education,
etc.). When they learnt that all the Mizo tribes could understand
the Lusei dialect, they forewent the trouble of learning minor dia­
lects and produced all their books in the Lusei tongue.
Zosapthara, after using the Mizo alphabet by Sap Upa and
Pu Buanga, felt the need to revise it and did so. The alphabet so
revised is the one that is in use to this day. When Sap Upa and Pu
Buanga came back to Lunglei in 1903, he explained the revisions
he had made and they found it to be completely satisfactory.
As was the case with prose, their contribution towards the
development of poetry and songs was equally laudable. Zosapthara
produced more than 100 songs in Mizo, amongst which were a few
non-gospel songs—‘Ka Nu’, ‘Mizo-Lawm the u’, ‘Thil Nawitete’,‘Bei
Nawnrawh’, ‘Bawih Chhuah Hla’. These poems and songs remained
a part of the education curriculum for a long time; though they
appear simple and straightforward, they are real gems when one
looks at them in context of the life and times in which they were
composed.
Let us take some time to look closely at some of the lyrics
here: ‘Ka Nu’ (Mother) was inspired by what he saw of the status
of women in Mizo society. Zosapthara wrote the following lines to
educate the people of the value of a mother and thereby remedy
their low perception of women:
Ka nausenin tunge mi kawl?
Ka nu, ka nu duh tak chu.
Tawng thei lovin tunge mi pawl?
Ka nu, ka nu duh tak chu.
Ka dam lo va, a tlaivar a,
Ka tap a, min chawi-mu thin.
Hah takin, chak lo chung pawhin,
Ka nu, ka nu duh tak chu.
(Who cared for me, a tender babe?
Mother, my precious mother.
Who spoke to me in my silence?
Mother, my precious mother.
When I was sick, she stayed up nights,
 Introduction of New Literature 405

When I cried, she’d cuddle me to sleep.

With tired arms, weak though she was,
Mother, my precious mother.)

Such a song could not but speak to the hearts of the people.
Also, Zosapthara was deeply troubled by the apparent lack of
interest in education. Especially among the sons of Mizo chiefs
who were given special education, he found many who dropped
out, unwilling to put in the required effort. For such, he wrote the
following words of encouragement in ‘Bei Nawnrawh’:
I pual har hle mah langin,
Bei la, bei nawn rawh.
Hun hian a hlawhtlintir thin,
Bei la, bei nawn rawh.
mi tih ngai kha engah nge
Nang I tih ve theih loh le?
Hei hi pawm tlat zel ang che.
Bei la bei nawn rawh.
(If you should find your path so tough
Try, try again;
Time will bring with it success,
Try, try again.
If others have and others can,
Why should you not be able to?
Hold on strongly only to this,
Try. Try again.)

Of the hymns he composed in Mizo, 83 were previously

included in the Mizo Christian hymnal, now 78 of them are there.
This still accounts for the highest number from a single person’s
work. Zosaphluia’s work ranks second in number, 40 of his hymns
were previously included; now it has been reduced to 35. These
songs by the missionaries obviously have discrepancies in language;
however, they are invaluable to Mizo literature. They introduced
rhyme schemes, paved the way for the use of tonic sol-fa, and cre­
ated accepted patterns of composition and poetic diction. Mizo
was a language they learnt late in life over a short period, but they
were adept at its use, and our elders did write in imitation of their
406 J.V. Hluna

style. So impressed was Pu Buanga with Zosapthara’s skills that he

remarked, ‘Sapthara was highly skilled in translating songs, so we
usually left better ones for him to translate. At times, his transla­
tions exceeded the originals in their aesthetic quality.…’5
The oldest among Mizo periodicals, and still with the larg­
est circulation, Kristian Tlangau, was launched in October 1911.
From its inception, Zosapthara served as the editor and continued
to do so to the end of his stay in Mizoram. This periodical broad­
ened the view of the people and greatly aided the general progress
of the society.
In all this time, the two missionaries continued traveling all
over Mizoram spreading the gospel. They also taught the people
the hazard of liquor, smoke and tobacco and educated them on
matters of hygiene, manners and etiquette. They always restricted
the free intermingling of the sexes. To bring his point home,
Zosaphluia often remarked, ‘If a man continues to hold burning
embers, will he not be burnt?’6
In 1899, Zosaphluia visited Lunglei, Punglei, Pukpui and
Sethlun and heard about Darphawka. On this visit, Thankunga
(son-in-law of Darphawka) and his son were converted and they
became the first converts in the southern region of Mizoram.7 On
the second Lunglei visit in 1902, Thankunga, Tlawmi, Lengkaia
and Parima were baptized at Sethlun and they became the first to
be baptized in the southern region.8
The Mizo had never had a burial ground for the dead. From
the time the missionaries set up a cemetery for Christians, the
idea of burying the dead in a cemetery took ground among all the
Mizos. The Mizos never had names for days of the week either.
Zosaphluia created the names that is continued to be practised
even now on 5 August 1904.9 The foundations they laid spiritually
and physically, and in literature, are too many and too varied to be
able to capture them in detail.
Pi Zawni (Mrs Katherine Jones), wife of Zosaphluia, also
made creditable contributions of her own. She introduced the
special service for children and composed the popular children’s
hymn, Jerusalem nute’n an fate Isuahnena an hruailaiin. She also
sent two Mizo ladies—Pawngi and Nu-i—for training in nursing­
 Introduction of New Literature 407

midwifery. They became the first nurses among the Mizos and
rendered an invaluable service to the people. She began the Pres­
byterian Church Girls’ School and served the women by teaching
them about hygiene, childcare, health, etc. She skilfully cared for
many and counselled them on matters they could not share with
others. Also, she personally sponsored and cared for 12 orphans.
Many of the missionaries in Mizoram made worthwhile con­
tributions to literature but we cannot hope to study them all in
great detail. The following is only a highlight of the contributions
made by a handful of them.
Rev. Robert Evans (Pu Dangawka, 1907-8): During his year’s
sojourn in Mizoram from the Khasi Hills, he produced the Sol-fa
Zirna Bu (Guide to Sol-fa), with the able help of a Khasi bachelor,
U Omia Mohan Roy, who was adept in the Mizo dialect. He is
specially remembered for the part he played in the coming of the
first great wave of revival. He was the chairman at the 1906 Mai­
rang assembly where 10 delegates would be sent from Mizoram.
Fearing that these delegates would not partake of the revival spirit
because of the language gap, he suggested the congregation to
hold a mass prayer for these Mizo delegates. It was only from that
moment that those Mizo delegates felt a change and were touched
by the wave of revival.
Dr Peter Fraser (1908-12): is credited with abolishing the
animistic practice of offering sacrifices to spirits as a cure from
illnesses. It was due to his tireless efforts that the 50 per cent infant
mortality rate among the Mizos was greatly reduced. He established
five foster homes for the destitute where 70 people—old men and
women and the disabled—were housed. This number increased to
more than a 100 after the great famine of 1911. He also set up a
boarding house for orphans where many received their education.
It was Dr Fraser who introduced printing technology in
Mizoram when he brought a hand press, which was christened the
Aijil Kristian Press. Here, he printed a brochure called ‘Kross Thu’
(The Message of the Cross), and freely distributed them to all the
patients he attended. Many used these brochures to teach them­
selves to read and write. The first issues of Kristian Tlangau were
also produced from this press.
408 J.V. Hluna

Dr Fraser practiced in his life the message of Luke 4:18-19:

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me because he hath anointed me to preach
gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach
deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at
liberty them that are bruised, to preach the acceptable year of the Lord.

He was troubled by the continued existence of bawis (slaves)

in Mizoram after slavery had been abolished in the rest of the Brit­
ish Empire. The price of buying freedom for a bawi was Rs. 40
and he made the ransom for 40 bawis from his personal account.
He could not agree with the superintendent H.W.G. Cole over the
issue of the bawis and there was constant tension between them,
leading to the departure of both from Mizoram. Later, the doctor
moved the British Privy Council on the issue where his cause was
adjudged justified, spelling the end of the bawi system in Mizoram.
Inspired by this liberation, Pu Thanga emotionally penned the fol­
lowing lines for a Mizo Christian hymn:
Aw Lalpa, Chungnungber – kanfakhle a che,
PathianNunglehEngkimtithei I ni e,
Hnehchhahte, bawih, riangvaite, misualteThian,
Faharhte, retheite Lal, Pa lehPathian…
(We praise thee our Lord in the highest,
Thou all-powerful and Living God,
Friend to the helpless, slaves and sinners,
Lord of orphans, the downtrodden and poor…)
Rev. Frederick Joseph Sandy (Pu Di-a, 1914-26) will always be
remembered as a pioneer who set up the first library in Mizoram,
and the first to send Mizo girls for further education in high
schools. He set up a library at the Boys’ Middle School and obtained
stipends for girls to pursue their education at the high school level.
He made a concentrated effort to learn the Mizo language, even­
tually producing the Mizo Tawng Grammar Bu (Book on Mizo
Grammar). He also authored the HlaLawrkhawm Bu (compilation
of Mizo songs) in 1917-18. With the aid of Pasena and Rozika, he
published Aesop’s Fables in Mizo (1817), and authored The Lushai
Verb and Lushai Double Adverbs. He also published Legends of Old
 Introduction of New Literature 409

Lushai in English. At the 1920 Serkawn Convention, Pu Dia pro­

posed the writing of Mizo names as a single word, and the use of
‘s’ instead of ‘sh’ which was agreed upon. These factors alone speak
for the immense contributions made by Rev. Sandy in the field of
Mizo Literature.
Rev. Enoch Lews Mendus (Pu Mena—a transliterated naming,
1922-44) impressed upon his students the need for and respect­
ability of manual labour. He and his students worked heartily
at the school gardens (now Kawltheihuan, Mission Veng) and
at Chite, where they practiced terrace farming. To him goes the
credit of giving Mizoram her first playground, when the hill that
now houses the Contact Sport Centre at Mission Vengthlang was
levelled under his supervision. He applied for, and was granted the
Dawrpui Veng Church site at Aizawl, which at the time was used
as a winery. The building was constructed under his supervision,
and he gathered the raw materials for the building from all avail­
able sources. The most impressive church building of the time was
thus opened and dedicated in 1931.
He supervised the translation of the Book of Old Testament
Prophets from the Bible in Mizo and the Commentary on Amos
he produced was the first ever Bible commentary in Mizo. He
established the Teachers’ Training School in 1927, where many
from the Cachar Hill Tribes and the Zoram Baptist church also
came for training. This school produced many teachers who later
proved to be invaluable pillars for the Church. Interestingly, it was
also Pu Mena who introduced basketball and volleyball to the
Mizo people. The Diary of a Jungle Missionary, a book he pub­
lished at Liverpool in 1956, and the comments he made therein
deserve special mention here. In this volume, he recounts the
deep jungles of Mizoram and his own experience there, how he
travelled through these forests, sometimes even spending nights
in them. On zu, the local rice beer, he says:
… the indigenous leaders of the Church on our Field insist even more
strongly than the missionaries on the necessity for all Church members
being strict total abstainers. One reason for this is that … this drinking
custom is so closely linked with other customs which belong to the old
pagan life … the idea of drinking in moderation is as impracticable as it
410 J.V. Hluna

is dangerous in a community which has been so accustomed excessive

drinking.

On revival movement in Mizoram, he writes:

When I was asked to take one of the services (at the Presbytery) myself I
took the opportunity of pointing out the dangers of the extreme form of
revivalism and of discouraging the uncontrolled zeal connected with it.
This did not prevent an old lady, however, from coming right up to the
pulpit during the service, panting and shaking my hands over the edge of
the pulpit, with an explosive ‘Halleluiah’ retort!

On grace, he holds the attitude that ‘if a boy has failed to pass
an examination … the parent may actually come to interview the
particular missionary who is inspector of schools.… Would the
Inspector kindly “forgive” and pass him? …The parent is probably
aware of the emphasis which we missionaries placed on “grace” in
our preaching of the gospel.’
On the attitude of the Mizos, he believes that ‘The spirit of
friendliness however is by no means confined to the Christian sec­
tion of the community. it is shown many non-Christians as well …
I have not seen here any sign of Anti-British feeling … suggested
factor is the natural kindness of the hillman.…’
Alice Catherine Mostyn Lewis (Pi Zomawii 1922-5) only
spent a few years in Mizoram but made notable contributions
within this short time. Being the daughter of a British Member of
Parliament and Cabinet Minister, she could finance the levelling of
the site for the P.C. Girls’ School. She also constructed a school at
Kulikawn where she invited girls to join. She added a boarding and
sponsored her students as well. Nuteii, the first female matriculate
and Dr. C.L. Kimi were both products of Pi Zomawii. She also
sponsored a Mizo young lad, Ch. Pasena’s education at Goldsmith
College, London University.
Katie Hughes (Pi Zaii, 1924-66) was a qualified musician
with a degree as examiner of Tonic Sol-fa. With Muka, she co­
authored the helpful Sol-fa Zirna Bu (Guide to Sol-fa). Under her
able guidance, many appeared and cleared the junior, elementary,
intermediate and matriculation exams in Sol-fa. Of her skills in
teaching, it was remarked, ‘Under her tutelage, a complete fresher
 Introduction of New Literature 411

could learn to read the Holy Bible in six months.’ She set up a good
Mizo choir, which ministered at the 1922 Sylhet Assembly. In
1933, she also took the choir on a 16—city tour, as far as Lahore in
Pakistan. These visits greatly enhanced the knowledge of the choir
members and also gave an identity to the Mizo in other places of
the country.
Katie Hughes was a graduate from Westhill College, Birming­
ham, a reputed Sunday School Training College. The Graded
Sunday School system she began and the 3-years syllabus for Sun­
day School she authored around 1935 have been the foundations
for the well-established Sunday system that is in practice to this
day. She also wrote a book titled Naupangleh Sakhuna (Children
and Religion).
Rev. Lewis Evans (Pu Niara, 1929-36) was christened Pu Niara
by the Mizos by virtue of his being a qualified engineer. He is cred­
ited with the building of the Presbyterian Hospital, the main Synod
Bungalow and the engineering of the Dawrpui Church. He is spe­
cially remembered for the historical role as the Founder President
of the Young Mizo Association. With the abolition of zawlbuk
(young men’s dormitory), he perceived the need for an alternative
forum to work along the same line. He, along with David Edwards
(Zorema Pa) and a few Mizo friends seriously discussed the for­
mation of such a forum early in 1935. They decided upon the
setting up of an organization along the lines of the YoungWelsh
Association, for which ZoremaPa suggested the name, Young
Lushai Association. The establishment of the association took
place at a special gathering at the Nepali School, Sikulpuikawn on
15 June 1935. A formal lighting of candles (Bishop’s Candlestick)
by a few educated Mizo lads signified the birth of this new associa­
tion, which continued to be significant in the life of Mizos.
Rev. Basil Edward Jones (Pu Zawna, 1941-53) was a scholar
with a BA (Hons), BD, PhD degree and a Teachers’ Training Cer­
tificate from Birmingham University. He specialized in Hebrew
and Greek and therefore, fittingly led the team of Bible transla­
tors. Taking the translation of the Old Testament Prophets further,
he and his team consisting of Rev. E.L. Mendus and some local
educated and pastors like Pastor Chhuahkhama, Pastor Liangkhai,
412 J.V. Hluna

Pastor Zairema and Muka completed the translation of the entire

Old Testament in Mizo. Rev. Basil Jones is believed to have been
the most adept in the Mizo language among our missionaries. This
Bible translation also continues to be a guiding post for the correct
use of the language. Pu Zawna is remembered for the creation of
the first high school in Mizoram. By the time he came to Mizoram,
several middle schools were already running and he perceived a
great need for the establishment of an institution for further educa­
tion. In his capacity as senior missionary, he opened a high school
in 1944 where Rev. J.M Llyod served as the first headmaster.
Rev. John Meirion Lloyd (Pu Lloyd-a, 1944-64) was also a
scholar with BA (Hons.), BD, Dip. Ed., M.Th degree. He reached
Mizoram the year the high school was opened and immediately
served as the first headmaster, continuing in the post for five years.
So, it is safe to say that the new high school building at Thingpui
Huan Tlang (MacDonald Hill) opened in 1948 was constructed
under him. In the same year, the first batch of matriculates faced
examination. These were a total of 17 candidates—16 boys and 11
girls, and a pass percentage of 68. One of the candidates, one girl,
Zokhumi (wife of J. Lalsangzuala), even achieved a first division.
The pupils who studied under Rev. Lloyd all became persons of
repute, pioneers and leaders in their varied fields.
When the Aijal College was established in 1958, missionaries
from the different Missions working in Aizawl served as lecturers.
Revd. J.M. Lloyd was one of them, and he became the principal
after Brother Godfrey. He also headed the academic affairs of the
Church, and often participated in meetings in different parts of
India. At these meetings and conferences, he befriended many
British and American citizens who generously donated books for
the Aijal College Library.
In 1951, the church assembly resolved to re-open the Theo­
logical School that had been closed in 1937. Pu Lloyd-a became
the first principal after the opening and he served in this capac­
ity till his return to Wales in 1964. It was during his tenure that
the school was upgraded to a college. The translation of the Bible,
which had been completed under Rev. Basil Jones, was revised in
collaboration with the leaders of the Baptist Church. After this
 Introduction of New Literature 413

revision, the Holy Bible in Mizo was published and released by the
synod moderator, Rev. J.M. Lloyd on 9 September 1959.
Rev. J.M. Lloyd showed his enterprise in obtaining the copy­
rights for hymns that had been in translation in Mizo. Some among
them were even bought. With the help of Muka, Upa Chawnzika
and Upa Rokunga, the first topic Sol-fa edition of the Mizo Chris­
tian Hymnal was published in 1955. Rev. Llyod was the editor of
Kristian Tlangau for a number of years. He also has several books
in Mizo to his credit. The body of his entire work, including books
in English, number 12. These books have proved extremely useful
to scholars and general readers:
1. A tisa put lai Ni
2. A Chatuan Remruat
3. Asia ram Kohhran Pasarihte
4. On Every High Hills (English)
5. Kristian Chhungkua
6. Matthaia Hrilhfiahna Kolossa Hrilhfiahna
7. Kolosa Hrilhfiahna
8. Jeremia Hrilhfiahna
9. Philippi Hrilhfiahna
10. Philemona Hrilhfiahna
11. History of the Church in Mizoram (English and Welsh)
12. Nine Missionaries (English and Welsh)
Mrs Llyod was a Briton, exceedingly good at typing. She
opened a typing school for the youth and many who studied
under her easily found jobs because of their skill. Her typing skills
and speed at the art was remarked upon with amazement, ‘Even
a woodpecker would feel inferior!’ She aided her husband in his
work and typed all his manuscripts.
Miss Gwen Rees Roberts (Pi Teii, 1944-68) is known for her
work at P.C. Girls’ School. Her contribution to literature is also
praiseworthy. She was particular about books for the school cur­
riculum and as such, many of the books she wrote were used in
schools all over Mizoram. These books include Hriselna Bu I, II &
III (Health Education) for primary schools, Science Bu fore Class
III to VI. Mizo Naupang, a periodical for children she published
414 J.V. Hluna

and circulated for many years, was greatly loved. Her book in
Mizo, Lalpa Zawnchhuah Ramis appreciated for its aesthetic and
educational values.
Pi Teii (Miss Gwen Rees Roberts) served as a voluntary teacher
at Mizo High School between January and December 1947, teach­
ing geography and biology. As was done by other missionaries, she
also served as a lecturer with no remuneration at Aijal College in
its initial stage teaching geography.
Rev. Alwyn Roberts (Pu Robert-a, 1960-7) was a highly
educated scholar with an M.A. L.L.B. degree from Cambridge
University. He was the first principal of Aijal College and the col­
lege’s renowned library was his handiwork. During his tenure, the
library grew to the strength of 23,000 books and several volumes of
valuable periodicals, geographical and historical maps and charts.
He came to Aizawl as the speaker for the 35th Aizawl Theological
College Day in 2000. Visiting his former College, now Pachhunga
University College, on 15 November 2000, he addressed the fac­
ulty and students of the college. Speaking about the great fire that
had destroyed the college Library in November 1981, he said, ‘It
is no doubt a great loss. But as long as man, the writer of books is
alive, better and more useful books will continue to be produced.
I am greatly thrilled to find that the library has been rebuilt and
well-stocked.’ Under him, many students gained excellence in edu­
cation. When insurgency broke out on 1 March 1966, Rev. Roberts
proved to be a saviour to the masses upon whom the armed forces
indiscriminately practised great atrocities. The love and courage
he showed at such times of tribulations will never be forgotten.
Dr Gwyneth Parul Roberts (Pi Puii, 1938-61) is reputed for
her invaluable service at the Presbyterian Hospital, Durtlang. She
was the first trained doctor to serve there after Rev. Dr John Wil­
liams (Pu Daka, 1928-36). The Nursing School at Durtlang was
recognized as soon as the Assam government opened nursing
school registrations. Pi Puii, having a BSc and an MMCH degrees,
prepared texts covering the school syllabus. As a result of Pi Puii’s
efforts, the first x-ray machine and power generator in Mizoram
were installed at the Durtlang Hospital. She left the hospital quite
well-established by the time she left Mizoram in 1961. At this time,
 Introduction of New Literature 415

the hospital had 120 beds, a well-run dispensary and laboratory,

50 nurse trainees and eight nurses.

Conclusion
We have had a brief look at the contributions made by our mission­
aries in Mizo sociocultural education. They created the alphabet,
opened schools and wrote texts for study; they wrote and trans­
lated songs, and gave the Bible in Mizo language. To them goes the
credit for establishing the foundations of Mizo literature. Learning
the language from scratch, they obviously had their shortcom­
ings. However, language and literature are far from static. They are
dynamic, growing and changing over the years in every culture,
and it is always up to later scholars to determine the yardsticks for
standardization no matter how humble the beginnings may have
been. It is in the light of the facilities, manpower and resources
available to the missionaries that we learn to better appreciate their
contributions to the birth and emergence of a distinct Mizo litera­
ture.

Notes
1. C. Vanlallawma, Mizo Hnam Puipate, Lengchhawn Press, 1994, p. 7.
2. Laltluangliana Khiangte, Thuhlaril, 1997, pp. 95-6.
3. J.V. Hluna, Mizoram Hmar Bial Missionary te Chanchin, 2003,
pp. 6-11.
4. Rev. Saiaithanga, Mizo KohhranChanchin, 1976, pp. 8-10
5. Vanlallawma, Zosaptharaleh a Hlate: Mizo Hlaleh a Phuahtute,
Hrangbana College, 1999, p. 11.
6. Hluna, op. cit., p. 44.
7. Ibid., p. 38.
8. Ibid., p. 39.
9. Loc. cit.
 CHAPTER 16

Evangelization among the Bodos

LUKE DAIMARY

According to Christian theology, Jesus commanded his disciples

‘Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name
of the father and of the son and of the Holy Spirit.’1 The disciples
in obedience to His command went and preached the message of
Jesus wherever they could. The Christian missionaries who have
committed themselves to His service, in obedience to the same
command of Jesus, go to every nook and corner of the world and
preach to all nations and tribes. India received the message of
Jesus as early as the fourth century ad when St Thomas arrived
in south India and preached among the inhabitants there. The
tomb of St Thomas bears testimony to this fact. In Assam, the
Christian missionaries are said to have visited the province early
in ad 1626 when Stephen Carcella and John Cabral, the two Jesuit
missionaries, halted at Gauhati on their way to Tibet and China.
After more than a century, again in 1790, we come across some
Roman Catholic Christians of Portuguese origin who settled
at Bondashil in Cachar district.2 But there were no missionary
activities from that settlement.
Concrete missionary activities in Assam did not take place
before the passing of the Charter Act of 1813, which among many
provisions included one to permit the Christian missionaries to
come to India. It was for the first time in Assam that in 1829 the
English Baptist Mission under James Rei established an English
Mission Centre at Gauhati.3 But no success was heard of that
mission. After a decade in 1943. the American Baptist Mission
founded its headquarters at Gauhati and the mission ordained
418 Luke Daimary

Cyrus Barker as a Pastor in 1845. He had a vision to evangelize the

natives. With this objective in mind, he opened a boarding school
at Gauhati wherein he admitted a number of students from differ­
ent ethnic communities including the Bodos. In 1846 a 12-year-old
Bodo boy, named Aphinta Kachari, from the village, Jhargaon, of
Kamrup district, was admitted to the boarding school. Three years
later, i.e. in 1849, Aphinta Kachari was baptized at Gauhati Baptist
Church4 and he became the first Bodo Christian. Thus it was under
Rev. Cyrus Barker that early attempts were made to evangelize
the Bodos. It is learnt that Cyrus Barker stayed at Tezpur for two
months touring the Bodo villages. In 1844, Rev. Nathan Brown
and Nithilevi Farwell, together with Miles Bronson, a missionary
stationed at Nowgaon, toured the northern part of Darrang dis­
trict, making Udalguri their temporary centre. In the writings of
Bronson, it is mentioned about the Christian missionaries’ preach­
ing at the Bhutia fete organized at Udalguri,5 the present district
headquarters of the Udalguri district. Like elsewhere in Assam,
the missionaries, with much labour and sacrifice, succeeded to
win over some Bodos to Christianity. But the activities of the mis­
sionaries in the Darrang district came to a halt for some years, for
reasons best known to them. This situation compelled the Assam
Baptist Conference held on 13 October 1851, to adopt a resolution,
which noted, ‘The mission was unanimous in the opinion that no
time should be lost in the occupying of these two missions.…’6 The
two missions referred to were the two sub-divisions of Mangaldai
in Darrang district and Golaghat sub-division in Sibsagar district.
But the resolutions they adopted could not be implemented.
In 1840 James Gordon, together with Charles Bruss, estab­
lished a mission centre at Tezpur, but around 1850 the work of
evangelization among the Bodos was handed over to the Anglican
Church.7 The Anglican Church from 1862 onwards launched a
vigorous missionary work under the banner of Society of Propaga­
tion of Gospel (SPG). The SPG took over the charge of the Tezpur
Mission Centre, which was later commissioned for evangelization
among the Bodos. In 1864, C.H. Hesselmeyer worked as the tea
garden chaplain. And to assist him Rev. Sydney Endle was sent to
Tezpur. In 1869, Rev. Hesselmeyer passed away.
 Evangelization among the Bodos 419

After the death of Rev. Hesselmeyer, Rev. Sydney Endle was

entrusted with the mission work among the Bodos, in addition
to being the chaplain of the British officials in the tea gardens. In
Darrang district, it was due to Rev. Sydney Endle that much suc­
cess could be had among the Bodos. He established the first Bodo
church at Bengbari in 1885.8 He visited different Bodo villages,
walking for days together. He realized that if he wanted to win
over the Bodo souls he required to preach sermons in the Bodo
language. Therefore, he mastered the Bodo language in speech and
writing. Wherever he came across Bodos in groups, he preached
with the Bible in his hand. The fruit of such untiring labour was
the gradual acceptance of Christian faith in the villages such as
Sengahali, Sengkhar, Kuberali, Panimudi, Lising, Niz-Ghagra,
Dimarugaon and some villages around Udalguri. Even near Man­
galdai, a few villages like Chapai, Kalaigaon, Garubandha, etc.,
had the impact of Christian preaching.9 Rev. Endle was so good
natured, humorous, kind hearted, humble and understanding that
all young and old liked him and called him ‘Gamini Bwrai’, mean­
ing the old man of the village.
Rev. Sydney Endle passed away in 1907. After his death the
mission activities among the Bodos were entrusted with a native
missionary named Rev. Binod Kumar Sarwan. But Rev. Sarwan
failed to maintain the momentum left behind by Rev. Endle. He
lacked commitment to the Bodo evangelization. There were hardly
any visits of the missionary to the Bodo villages. Gradually, the
Christians of Dimarugaon and other villages lost connection with
the SPG mission. In the absence of guidance and directions from
the SPG mission, new converts faced problems in church activities
and found it difficult to hold on to the faith. Under this situation,
Sisuram Saikia, who was a teacher in the school established by
the SPG mission, together with Alfred, a Christian from Chapai
village near Mangaldai, contacted the American Baptist mission­
aries based at Gauhati in 1913. The American Baptist missionaries
accepted the proposal and agreed to nurture the new converts of
Dimarugaon after obtaining the necessary permission from the
SPG mission authority. With this agreement, the SPG missionary
activities in the Dimarugaon (Later Doamokha) came to an end
420 Luke Daimary

on 25 December 1913, and saw the beginning of the mission of the

American Baptist Mission with the celebration of the first Christ­
mas on the same day and in the same place.10
Rev. George Richard Kampher, complying with the invita­
tion of Sisuram Saikia and Alfred, came down to Dimarugaon on
27 January 1914, and baptized 21 people. It may be mentioned that
all the SPG Christians were rebaptized by Rev. Kampher. As there
was no church building, the church services were held in the house
of Simion Bhut Pandit till the December of 1914. Later a church
building was constructed at Borigaon, an immediate neighbouring
village, in which the Christians of the Dimarugaon were amalgam­
ated. In the same year a church was also established at Kolbari.
The name of this village was changed from Kolbari to Edenbari
after conversion. After Edenbari it was at Belguri where a church
was built. Thus the American Baptist Mission established itself
permanently among the Bodos of Darrang district. The progress
of the church was reported in the conference of the Assam Baptist
Mission held in 1917. It reported that in Darrang district, in the
beginning of 1914, the Christian community consisted of only two
churches, an evangelist and 296 baptized members. But the church
expanded gradually and it called for the formation of Mangaldai
Baptist Conference. Accordingly, it was formed in 1915. Its first
ever annual conference was held at Borigaon in Mangaldai sub­
division of the district. Sisuram Saikia and Serelouis Bhobora were
elected the president and secretary, respectively.
The early converts were very zealous and they preached gospel
messages wherever they went even at the pain of persecution. The
more persecution they underwent, the greater was the expansion
of the church. This necessitated a local pastor as the American
missionaries stationed at Gauhati met with difficulties visiting the
villages frequently and as and when required. On 20 April 1924,
Rothai Daimary was ordained a pastor. After the ordination the
new pastor was rechristened Romanus Daimary.
The village of Dimarugaon (Doamokha) witnessed another
development after the ordination of Rothai Daimary. Being
denied pastorship, Sisuram Saikia felt humiliated and distanced
himself from all church activities. He kept a low profile for some
 Evangelization among the Bodos 421

time. While in this state one day, he came in contact with an

adivasi Catholic Christian called Daud, and expressed his will­
ingness to meet the Catholic missionaries at Gauhati. Sisuram
Saikia, together with Daud, went and met the Catholic priests at
Gauhati. The response was positive and fast. In 1928, a Catholic
priest, Fr Piasekki, visited Sisuram Saikia’s village, Dimarugaon,
and baptized him and his followers, according to Roman Catho­
lic rites. The occasion became the first-ever Catholic function in
Darrang district and led to the establishment of the first Catholic
church in the district. Sisuram Saikia built a small church in his
own courtyard and kept alive his Catholic faith. In 1932, another
priest, Fr Anthony Alessey, visited Dimarugaon and baptized
Sisuram Saikia’s children, Samual Saikia and Nishi Saikia, together
with several others. The Catholic missionaries in the later period
lost touch with the new converts who became guideless and this
situation led the Catholics back to the Baptist fold. Some who did
not join the Baptist church returned to their traditional religion.
Sisuram Saikia passed away in 1965.11
In western Assam, particularly in the district of erstwhile Goal-
para, evangelical work among the Bodos started under the Santal
Mission of Northern Churches (Lutheran). The mission estab­
lished a centre at Grahampur in 1881, some 40 km away from the
then Goalpara district headquarters, Dhubri. The mission centre
was within the Santal Colony where Santal emigrants from Bihar
were settled. The mission also established centres at Haripata and
Joema. The neighbouring Bodos who came to settle inside the San­
tal Colony gave an opportunity to the missionaries to extend their
activities to the Bodos as well. Rev. H.P. Boerson from England
and Lars O. Skrepshrud from Norway were the pioneers of evan­
gelization among the Bodos in this region. Tekhlo Basumatary
was the first to be converted to Christianity. He was baptized on
7 January 1887. After Tekhlo Basumatary, Dorkanto, Sitaram and
Dabaru were also baptized. The first Bodo church in this region
was established at Rajadabri, north of Gosaigaon Hat Railway
Station by Rev. Skrefshrud. Ratia Basumatary, son of Tekhlo
Basumatary, became the first Bodo pastor after he was ordained
on 5 January 1911. Dabaru Boro was also ordained a pastor on
422 Luke Daimary

6 December 1914. Johannes Gausdal and Anderson Winding, both

from Norway, arrived in India in November 1915 and Decem­
ber 1916, respectively. They looked after the Bodo congregation
besides working among the Santals. The mission among the Bodos
expanded and by 1922 the Christian faith spread to villages such
as Rajadabri, Nangdarbari, Gaurang, Dumbajhar, Kolabari, etc.
The fast expansion of their mission among the Bodos convinced
the Mission Home Board of the need for a separate mission cen­
tre, exclusively for the Bodos. Accordingly, the Mission Home
Board directed Rev. and Mrs Aksel Kristiansen from Denmark
to set up a separate mission station for the Bodos. Thus, in 1917,
it established the Gaurang mission station at Gaurang, a place 10
km away from Kokrajhar town.12 By 1930, two more Bodo pastors
were consecrated. They were Bahadur Boro and Alicharan Boro.
They helped Rev. Kristiansen in establishing Lutheran churches at
far off places like Udalguri and its adjacent villages such as No. 2
Shantipur, Goraimari, etc. The Santal mission also opened centres
at Bongaigaon in 1938. Rev. and Mrs Malme were entrusted with
the administration. In 1951, a third mission centre was established
at Patkijuli. From this centre, missionary activities were extended
to Darrang district. The Santal mission later changed its name to
the Northern Evangelical Lutheran Church. But to suit the Bodo
congregation the prefix, ‘Bodo’, was added and it came to be called
as Bodo Northern Evangelical Lutheran Church.13 It may be noted
here that the Santal mission confined its activities to the northern
part of the North Eastern Frontier Railway Lines. The adjoining
areas of the southern part of the North Eastern Frontier Railway
Lines were the mission fields of the American Baptist Mission with
its headquarters at Goalpara town. It concentrated its activities
among the Garos of the Garo Hills while extending its work also
among the Bodos in the plains. In 1877-8, the American Baptist
Mission shifted its headquarters to Tura, the headquarters of Garo
Hills district. The mission among the Bodos did not yield much
fruit. As per the records, only two Bodo families were converted
during the tenureship of Rev. M.E. Stephenson (1894-1909). The
first Bodo convert of this area could not be documented. However,
the names of Buha Basumatary and Dangkhao Basumatary of
 Evangelization among the Bodos 423

Fundibari figure as early converts. The American Baptist Mission

no longer confined itself to the southern area of the NFR Lines. It
expanded its activities to the northern part of NFR Lines as well.
By 1940 there were converts in and around Sidli, a place north of
Bongaigaon town. In 1965, the American Baptist Mission handed
over the Bodo mission to the Australian Baptist Missionary Soci­
ety. This society established its first centre at Tukrajhar. By this
time the government policies were against the foreign missionar­
ies. The situation came to such a pass that this Australian society,
too, had to hand over the mission to the local management. After
its takeover, the local management changed the name of the soci­
ety to the Goalpara Baptist Church Union with its headquarters at
Tukrajhar.14
The Bodos of North Bengal witnessed the light of Christianity
under the Anglican Church, which is also known as the Scottish
Presbyterian Church. This church later rechristened itself as the
Church of North India, or CNI. This church worked under the
Darjeeling Diocese of the Anglican Church among the Nepalese
of Darjeeling and Kalimpong areas and it gradually extended its
mission in the plain areas among the Bodos of Jalpaiguri district
with a mission centre at Mahakalguri near Alipurduar. The influ­
ence of this church spread among the Bodos through the efforts of
two brothers, viz., Ronglar Narzinari and Rev. Jitnal Narzinari.15
There were mission centres of the Lutheran and Catholic churches,
too, which worked among the tea garden labourers in the district.
These denominations also expanded their works among the Bodos
and formed congregations at different Bodo areas in north Bengal.
The Catholic church came to the Bodos relatively late in the
day. It was not before 1928 that Fr Piaseski, known as the ‘Lion
of the Brahmaputra Valley’, visited Dimarugaon village in Dar­
rang district and baptized a few Bodos, including Sisuram Saikia.
Sisuram Saikia invited him to the village. After this, nothing was
heard of the Catholic mission in Darrang district. But in Goalpara
district in the 1930s, a certain Philip Phulsing of Nangdorbari vil­
lage, with a few followers, parted ways from the Lutheran Church
and invited the Catholic missionaries to visit them. Accordingly,
Fr Scuderi visited the village and accepted four families into the
424 Luke Daimary

Catholic fold. This happened to be the first entry of Catholic faith

among the Bodos in Goalpara district.
In 1934, with the initiative of Phulsingh, a young man, named
Gendra Champramari from Bengal, was taken to Gauhati and bap­
tized. Later, he was sent to Tezpur for evangelical training. Gendra
Champramary became a trained catechist and with his assistance
Fr Orestes Marengo took to intense evangelization among the
Bodos in Goalpara district. Their efforts bore fruit and many Bodos
of Kagrabari, Digoldong, Ranisundri, etc., who were Baptists by
denomination, made overtures to the Catholic fold. They won over
new converts in the villages of Bilaspur, Dandupur, Bogriguti, etc.
Fr Orestes Marengo was the key person behind Catholic success
among the Bodos. He mastered the Bodo language, and composed
and printed the Catholic prayer and catechism books. Such works
strengthened the foundation of the Catholic practice of its fold.
In 1936, Fr Orestes Marengo was replaced by Fr Bonomi. In the
same year, a new mission station was started at Barpeta and placed
under the charge of Fr Zazon. Fr Zazon also learned the Bodo lan­
guage and became proficient in a short span of time. He revised
the prayer and catechism books published by Fr Marengo. In 1953,
Fr Remus Morra was appointed rector of Barpeta mission. He gave
importance to education for evangelization. He started a school
in the Barpeta mission where he admitted several Bodo boys and
girls and prepared them for future leadership. In 1956, Fr Joseph
Zubizarret joined the Barpeta mission. He intended to open a
mission centre, exclusively for the Bodos. As planned, he opened
a parish at Bengtol in 1967, exclusively for the Bodos. In 1972,
the Bengtol parish was bifurcated and another mission centre was
established at Soraibil, a place 25 km north of Gosaigaon town.
The Catholic missionary activities expanded and many Bodos of
the area embraced the faith.
Around this time, the Bodo Catholic Christians in Darrang
district were looked after from Gauhati and then from Barpeta.
In 1951, Fr Guido Colussi opened a new mission station at Tangla
but it was not for the Bodos separately. Keeping the Bodo evan­
gelization in view, in 1956, Fr George Venturoli started another
mission centre at Udalguri for the Bodos.16 With these new cen­
 Evangelization among the Bodos 425

tres, the Bodo Catholics in Darrang district were looked after

locally and sufficient attention was given to their spiritual needs.
The years that followed saw many more Bodos coming over to the
Catholic church either from the Protestant churches or from other
religions. Today, Bodo Catholic congregations are found in every
Bodo-dominated area of Assam.
With the advent of the British, and more particularly after the
passing of the Charter Act of 1813, missionary activities in Assam
took on greater momentum. Different Christian denominations
found Assam to be virgin land for evangelization. But so far as
the Bodos were concerned nothing spectacular was done and
achieved. Though the missionaries came in contact with the Bodos
in the early nineteenth century there were no desired results. A
number of factors can be attributed to such a dismal result.
To begin with, there was no mission directly commissioned
for the Bodos. The American Baptist Mission, which established
its headquarters at Gauhati in 1943, worked among the Assamese
people. It also worked among the Garo Hills with its headquar­
ters at Tura. It was only in 1956 that an independent Bodo Baptist
mission was established at Tukrajhar by the Australian Baptist
mission. The Anglican Church, too, had its initial objective to
work among the Bhutanese in Bhutan and the tea garden com­
munities working in the gardens located at the Bhutan foothills.
When they completely failed among the Bhutanese they found
the Bodos as an alternative. But even after the initial success in
their mission they did not establish any mission exclusively for
the Bodos until the arrival of Rev. Sydney Endle in 1864. In north
Bengal, too, the Scottish mission initially had their vision among
the Nepalese of Darjeeling and Kalimpong of present Jalpaiguri
district. The mission among the Bodos of Bengal came up only
as extension evangelization. The Santal Mission of the Northern
Churches worked among the Santal emigrants from Bihar. Though
there were some Bodo converts from the neighbouring villages of
the Santal Colony no separate mission was established until 1927.
That year, a mission was established at Gaurang, some 10 km
away from Kokrajhar town. The fund and resources allotted for
the Bodo mission was meagre in amount. Similarly, the Catholic
426 Luke Daimary

Church established its headquarters at Gauhati and Barpeta but

up until 1967 no separate mission, exclusively for the Bodos, was
set up. It is obvious from the above that evangelization among the
Bodos had never been the first strategy of any Christian mission
society in Assam.17
Second, the intense missionary activities in Assam coincided
with the Swaraj movement in India. The movement infused among
the natives a sense of hatred towards Christianity. It projected
Christianity as a foreign religion. Besides, the non-Christian
religious leaders had also injected in the minds of the Bodos that
Christianity destroyed their culture. There were also opposition
from the Saranias and the Brahma cult of the Bodos. The Brahma
cult started a parallel religious movement. These developments
stood as obstacles in the growth and expansion of Christianity
among the Bodos.
And, in the end, lack of quality literature also slowed down the
expansion of Christianity among the Bodos. Literature is one of
the most effective means of evangelization. But the Bodo language
suffered from poor resources. It was further handicapped by the
absence of a script. The missionaries adopted the Roman script for
the Bodo language. But this made for unsatisfactory representa­
tion of ideas and concepts. It ultimately retarded the growth of
Christianity among the Bodos.

Contribution
Christian evangelization among the Bodos was nothing
extraordinary. It failed to produce expected results. However, its
contribution to the Bodo society cannot be underestimated. The
Christian missionaries realized that education was the key to
progress and to develop the Bodo society the missionaries opened
schools wherever they established centres. The SPG mission
opened schools at several places. It constructed a hostel at Tezpur
for the Bodo students for pursuing further studies. One of the
products of this hostel was James Suni (Musahary) from Lising
Panimudi, who became the first medical doctor from the Bodo
community in Darrang district. Similarly, other denominations,
such as the Santal Mission of Northern Churches, the Baptists and
 Evangelization among the Bodos 427

the Catholics also opened schools and produced good results. This
added to the progress of education among the Bodos.
In the field of literature, too, the Christian missionaries con­
tributed immensely. They laid the foundations of Christian Bodo
literature. The centre produced several literary works. The mis­
sionaries also translated and wrote Bodo primers to teach Bodo
children in their mother tongue. Rev. Sydney Endle, while work­
ing among the Bodos of Darrang district, translated the New
Testament and other prayer books into Bodo language. He also
wrote several papers on Bodo folklore. His well-known manual,
An Outline of Grammar of the Kachari Language, in which he
presented the Bodo words of the Sanjari (Darrangia) dialect, and
his monograph, The Kachari, published in 1911 from London, are
outstanding.
Lars Skrefsrud’s A Short Grammer of the Bodo Language with
an attached Bodo vocabulary of about 2,000 words of Goalparia
dialect, the translation of Martin Luther’s Small Catechism, Sunday
Gospel Periscope, Bible Story and four primers used for classes
A, B, I and II and Johannes Gausdal’s publication of the Bodo
Devotional Hymn Book containing 56 hymns in Bodo language
are no less a contribution to the body of Bodo literature. Aksel
Kristiansen’s translation of the New Testament, a reading book,
Bible Story and Church Rituals enriched Bodo literature. Assisted
by Maguram Musahary and later by his son, Saisingra Musahary,
Haakon Halvorsrud translated the voluminous Old Testament
of 1,190 pages into Bodo language. It was published in 1981, by
the Bible Society of India. He also enlarged the Church Hymnal,
which contained 353 Bodo hymns. The Bodo Christian Literature
Board published it in 1954. He also brought out the Boro Gram­
mar and Boro Dictionary, which were published in 1959 and 1968,
respectively. All these works speak volumes of the contributions of
the Christian missionaries to the development of Bodo literature.

Conclusion
In conclusion, it may be noted that the advent of Christianity and
its growth among the Bodos was nothing spectacular in scale but it
ushered in the path to progress not only in Bodo society but also in
428 Luke Daimary

all other societies with which it came in contact. The establishment

of mission centres and the opening of schools in the urban and
rural areas hastened the pace of development. The church insists
that development should not start with goods but with people who
recognize their responsibility towards society. Therefore, mission
schools were the centres of nurture for children where the values
of punctuality, discipline, work culture, etc., were inculcated by
them. They are taught to consciously search for truth, to examine
things critically and not to accept ideas blindly. The products of
Christian educational institutions have proved themselves to be
good human beings in society, if not better. This falls in line with
the need of society. Thus Christian evangelization among the
Bodos may not have achieved its desired results but contributed
tremendously to the society at large. Therefore, the coming of
Christianity to India, to Assam and to the Bodo society was a boon
and not a bane.

Notes
1. Kottupallil, ‘A Historical Survey of Catholic in the North-East India’,
Centenary of Catholic Church in North East India, a Souvenir,
Shillong Archbishop’s House, 1990, p. 7.
2. Pratul Kumar Bhobora, ‘Darrang Zillar Boro Kachari Sokolar Majot
Christio Dharmar Agaman’, Hathorkhi IPIL, Souvenir Jesu Krist
Jayanti, Sacred Heart Church, Udalguri, 2000, p. 55.
3. F.S. Down, Mighty Works of God: A Brief History of the Council of
Baptist Churches in North East India (1836-1950), 1st edn, Christian
Literature Centre, Panbazar, Gauhati, Assam, 1911, pp. 84-90.
4. Bhobora, loc. cit.
5. Ibid., p. 56.
6. Ibid.
7. Down, Christianity in North East India, ISPCK, Panbazar, Gauhati,
Assam, 1983, pp. 113.
8. Bhobora, op. cit., p. 57.
9. Ibid., pp. 58-60.
10. Ibid., pp. 61-2.
11. Robinson Musahary, ‘Origin and Growth of Christianity among
the Bodos of Assam’, in Proceedings of North East India History
Association, Seventh Session, Pasighat, 1986, pp. 274-5.
 Evangelization among the Bodos 429

12. Ibid.
13. Ibid.
14. Ibid., pp. 275-6.
15. Fr Pallamtattel, unpublished papers, Sacred Heart Theological
College, Shillong.
16. Musahary, loc. cit.
17. Bhobora, op. cit., p. 56.
 CHAPTER 17

Cultural Hegemony, First World War and

the German Salvatorians in North-East India
(1890-1915 ce)
MEETA DEKA

First World War, which came in the wake of a growing Indian

nationalism, proved to be a threat to British cultural hegemony in
India with disastrous consequences for the German Salvatorians
in Assam, who were by then practically monopolizing the process
of proselytization in the north-eastern region of India. The history
of international relations between 1890 ce and 1914 ce was
dominated by the spectacular emergence of a powerful German
Empire as the strongest military, industrial and technological
power on the European continent. This, among other factors,
was bound to affect the position of Great Britain, and tilt the
new balance of power in favour of Germany. The technological
and economic progress of Europe in general made rapid strides
which led to new international problems and developments, such
as movements for national expansion or for colonial development.
The opening up of new areas of the world for development by
Europeans, particularly by the British and Germans, led to an
increase of international rivalry, even in the field of religion, and
this was partly the outcome of domestic politics, ‘seeking in foreign
adventures a release from their tensions within their own society’.1
Thus it were such desires as national greatness or national self-
determination as well as overseas expansion that contributed to
the outbreak of the war of 1914 ce, which, while bringing in large
transformation in Europe and the world at large, also manifested
German-British rivalry in the sphere of religion in India.
432 Meeta Deka

In general, First World War had a varied and tremendous

impact on most foreign missions of the world for, to quote James
L. Barton:

… nearly every country in which foreign missionaries and their institu­

tions are located is under the flag of one of the belligerent powers, and
much mission territory is actually within the zone of war or of active
military preparations. Within the war zone are the mission fields of the
Balkan Peninsula, … the Turkish Empire, Syria, Arabia, Egypt, Persia, …
the … German colonies in Africa, and the islands of the Pacific held by
Germany at the outbreak of the war, while North Africa, Ceylon, India,
Burmah, Siam, British South Africa, and Portuguese East and West
Africa are upon the borderland of war or of direct preparation for war.2

Some such impact, as Barton states, was incidental only to be

revived when the war ceased, while others were of a more seri­
ous and fundamental nature. Barton believes that compared to all
other foreign missions, the German missions probably suffered
the most in terms of a loss of manpower as young Germans had
to join the army and those past military age could not join the
mission from a territory that was at war with Germany. The effect,
therefore, of the war upon the manpower and support of German
missions had been adverse.3 The German Salvatorians engaged in
the Assam mission from 1889 ce to 1915 ce met with an even
more precarious fate as they had no links with the German state,
and were interned as prisoners of war in India.
Interestingly, in the history of Christian missions in north-east
India, the focus had always been inter alia on the American Baptist
missionaries, the Welsh Presbyterian missionaries and the Sale­
sians of Don Bosco; the contribution of the German Salvatorians
has often been sidelined or mentioned only in passing. Lalsang­
kima Pachuauto discussed the Christian churches in the region
with emphasis on the contributions of the indigenous Christians.
His reference to the Salvatorians was contained in a sentence only:
‘In 1889 … [the mission work] was reassigned to the German Soci­
ety of Catholic Education, popularly known as Salvatorians, who
began “Catholic missionary work proper” in the region.’4 David
Syiemlieh made only a brief reference in his presidential address at
 Cultural Hegemony, First World War 433

the Indian History Congress.5 Elsewhere, this author had written

on the contributions of the Salvatorians to the establishment of
Christianity and education in the region.6 This paper briefly traces
their achievements and analyses the impact of politics on religion,
which is clearly represented in the case of the German Salvatorians
in north-east India, who were ousted from the field of proselytiza­
tion, as a natural corollary to British imperialist policy during the
First World War.
The British as, what Antonio Gramsci calls, ‘the capital entre­
preneur’ or the ‘dominant fundamental group’ which represents
‘a higher level of social elaboration’, ‘creates together with itself,
organically, one or more strata of intellectuals which give it
homogeneity and an awareness of its own function not only in
the economic but also in the social and political fields’7; and the
emergence of the Christian missionaries in general and the Ger­
man Salvatorians, in particular, as ‘the organisers of a new culture’,
within a complex superstructure aiming at cultural hegemony, is a
case in point. In fact he states:
The most typical of these categories of intellectuals is that of the ecclesiat­
ics, who for a long time … held a monopoly of a number of important
services: religious ideology, that is the philosophy and science of the age,
together with schools, education, morality, justice, charity, goodworks,
etc. … and [who shared ]the use of state privileges connected with
property.8
The German Salvatorian missionaries form one such cat­
egory of intellectuals who came to the north-east in 1889 ce
but were forced to leave in the wake of the war in 1915 ce. They
originally belonged to a young religious society known as ‘The
Catholic Teaching Society’, founded in Rome, with the aim to
spread Catholic doctrine at home and abroad. However, this was
often misinterpreted as a society of teachers and scholars who
were interested in Catholic learning only, and so in 1904 ce, the
name was changed to ‘Society of the Divine Saviour’. Its Latin form
is Societas Divini Salvatories (SDS) and its members are popularly
known as ‘Salvatorians’. 9 Christophorus, later Christopher, Becker
reiterated thus: ‘Whenever the Apostolic or Catholic Teaching
434 Meeta Deka

Society is mentioned, it speaks of the Salvatorians, describing the

same religious order.’10 It were these missionaries, from the dio­
cese of Freiburg, who offered to undertake what was known as the
Assam Mission for Evangelization in the region as ‘deputies’ or
‘functionaries’ of the dominant fundamental group, when others
refrained, through major hurdles, such as topography, distance,
isolation, lack of funds and personnel, natural calamities, climate,
wild animals, diseases and even death. In 1892 ce, the apostolic
delegate of India, Ladislaus Zalecki, wrote: ‘The Assam mission
is the most difficult one in India, not only regarding the mission
work itself, but also the conditions of life for the missionaries which
require from them no small spirit of sacrifice and self-denial.’11
It is important to understand that the relationship between
this group of ecclesiatical intellectuals and the world of production
is not as direct as it is with the British as the dominant group , but
is, as Gramsci states, ‘in varying degress, “mediated” by the whole
fabric of society and by the complex of superstructures, of which
the intellectuals are, precisely, the “functionaries”’.12 The degree
of ‘organic quality’ and connection of these intellectuals with the
dominant group, the British, and a gradation of their functions
will have to be understood within two superstructural levels,
namely, civil society and the political society, the state.13 Cultural
hegemony was subtle but by the mid-nineteenth century ce,
‘Christianity was for most Englishmen increasingly a mark of their
own difference from, and superiority to, their Indian subjects’, and
the government displayed lavish expenses on ecclesiatical estab­
lishments like station churches, etc., which really had little to do
with conversion,14 as conversion was not an easy process in India
though the hills of the northeast offered a fertile ground. To quote
K.N. Panikkar:
… the changes in the cultural domain, although linked to the political
and economic interests of colonialism, were molecular in nature and
hence relatively less apparent.… These changes had multiple souces of
inspiration, ranging from direct intervention by the colonial state to the
activities of voluntary agencies. Their modes of intervention were also
varied, appropriation and hegemonization being the most important of
them.15
 Cultural Hegemony, First World War 435

Within a short span of 25 years, the Salvatorians made

important changes in the field of religion, education and mis­
sionary activities by carrying out the work of conversion in the
Brahmaputra and Surma Valley and extensively among the ethnic
communities of the region, and thereby provided the foundations
to the establishment of the Salesians of Don Bosco.
Much of this contribution is retrieved from the narrative of
Christophorus (Christopher) Edmund Becker, the first prefect
apostolic of Assam (1906-21 ce), of his experiences in Im Strom­
tal des Brahmaputra in 600 pages, translated by George Stadler
and Sebastian Karotemprel in 1978 ce in the volume History of
the Catholic Missions in Northeast India, though a literal transla­
tion would have been: ‘In the Brahmaputra Delta’. The Prefecture
Apostolic of Assam was to be carved out of the dioceses of Dacca
and Krishnangar. In 1874 ce, Assam was taken away from Bengal
and made a chief commissioner’s province under direct control
of the Governor-General in Council.16 It is probable that, as a
corollary to this political development, the decision to create the
Prefecture Apostolic of Assam was made in 1887-9 ce by merging
the two dioceses. Becker writes: ‘… the ecclesiastical boundaries
of the newly created Prefecture Apostolic coincided, therefore,
with the political boundaries and facilitated the commencement
of the mission work’, with Otto Hopfenmueller as the first Mission
Superior.17 Hopfenmüller joined the Catholic Teaching Society in
Rome on 13 September 1887 ce.18 His early years were a resistance
against Otto Von Bismarck, the Kulturkampf, the policy of the
Liberals in Germany, in support of the Catholic Church as pub­
lisher and editor of Bamberger Volksblatt, for which he had to face
imprisonment in Nuremberg, Bamberg and other places. When he
was released finally in 1877 ce, he returned to his post as chaplain
of St Martin.19
A society for sisters in Rome was founded by John Baptist Jor­
dan with Hopfenmüller’s niece, Scholastica, as one of its members.
She accompanied her uncle to India and was among the first sisters
of the young society sent for the Assam mission. As Mother Supe­
rior, she experienced the difficult beginnings and harsh years of
ordeal and encouraged the other sisters, who left their imprint on
436 Meeta Deka

the missionary work. She was successful in converting the Khasi

people for on her arrival no Catholics existed in the Khasi, Jain­
tia and Garo Hills. In 1915 ce, Becker writes, ‘the British tore her
away from her children, poor and ill, because she was a German,
and she was forcibly returned to her Fatherland. Never again was
she able to return to the place where her uncle’s mortal remains
were buried.’20
In 1890 ce, two priests and two brothers embarked on their
voyage and the time of transit was utilized for learning English
from an Irish Officer on board. From Bombay (Mumbai) they con­
tinued their journey to Calcutta (Kolkata) by train and reached
Gauhati (Guwahati) by steamer via Dhubri.21 What is interesting
is that the journey to Shillong was by means of a two-wheeled
three-seater bullock cart which entails that each of the four mem­
bers, in turn, would have to walk and follow the cart two hours
on foot to cut down expenses! Shillong was chosen as the centre
of the Assam mission being the capital of Assam, which at that
time was an extensive area, covering practically the whole of the
north-eastern region except for Tripura and Manipur, based on
a preliminary survey that the indigenous hill people were more
eager to accept Christianity than those in the plains.22 Hopfenm­
ueller lost no time in learning the Khasi language as the key to
the process of evangelism and in this they were benefitted by the
translated works of the Welsh methodists, who were there half a
century earlier.23 He directed all efforts towards establishing the
mission station and translated prayers, the catechism, Bible his­
tory, Old Testament, Life of Jesus and of the Blessed Virgin Mary.
However, he succumbed to meningitis, followed by a sunstroke,
and died the same year at the age of 47, while Marianus Schumm
fell victim to dysentery and died soon after. Angelus Münzloher
took over charge of the mission.24
In spite of this and other such major hurdles, the Salvatorians
were able to establish a network of religious organizations with
mission centres, outposts reaching out to very distant villages.25
When the Salvatorians took over charge from the Italian Milan
priests the only two establishments were a chapel at Gauhati built
by Broy and a ramshackle mission house at Shillong with no
 Cultural Hegemony, First World War 437

conversion done at the local level; the 350 Catholics in Assam were
either foreigners or immigrants.26 In 1891 ce, when Angelus Mün­
zloher managed to purchase land adjacent to the Khasi village of
Laitumkhrah, a long low hill, covered with pine trees, for Rs. 5,000
from the English general, Hopkinson, who left for England. In this
way, the issue of finding property for the Catholic mission in Shil­
long was effectively solved. It was here that the Catholic Church
was founded, later to become the Shillong Cathedral.27 Becker
stated: ‘By this timely acquisition of land, the administrator of the
Assam mission laid the necessary function for later developments
and expansion of its principal mission station, Shillong, with all its
manifold activities.’28
The strongest obstacle that the Salvatorian faced was the oppo­
sition from the Welsh Methodists who had come in 1841 ce, and
established regular schools and were determined to dessiminate
propaganda against the Salvatorians through their daily newspa­
per. Thus in 1907 ce, the small printing press was transferred from
Laitkynsew to Shillong, new printing machines were acquired
and the press enlarged for the benefit of the whole mission, for
the mission publications were directly meant to counter Method­
ist propaganda and for religious instruction. When the Society
had to leave its mission in 1915 ce, there were 5,176 baptized
and 1,700 catechumen29 Khasis.30 So they were quite successful in
evangelization of the region. The Salvatorians set about to stop the
superstitious ‘pagan’ practices in the villages as also other customs.
They, however, strongly believed that school and works of char­
ity were other means of introducing Christianity in the Khasi and
Jaintia Hills.31
The British government had not opened any schools in the
Khasi Hills; it established the Pine Mount School, a primary
school for European children, at Shillong run by the Protestant
Mission. Establishment of schools was a monopoly of the Meth­
odists who were given grants by the government and hence they
regarded the Salvatorians as the new rivals. The Mission Superior
finally succeeded to obtain a monthly grant-in-aid towards the
maintenance of eight Catholic schools. In 1908 ce, St Anthony’s
School was established as a Catholic Middle English School in
438 Meeta Deka

Shillong to meet the need for better teachers and catechists for the
mission and an orphange was attached to it. In 1910 ce, the Sisters
of Divine Saviour opened a school for domestic science and the
first primary school for girls was established in 1913 ce. They also
introduced the idea of middle schools as intermediate between the
primary and high schools. This category of ecclesiatical intellectu­
als, exercising cultural hegemony at a lower level, states thus on the
introduction of middle schools:
Not only was the instruction here on a higher level than in the primary
school, but the children were also taught English. This was very useful to
many Khasis. They could be employed as an ayah or a tailor in an English
family. A boy could get employment in government service even if it was
only as an office peon or as composer in the government press or in the
land survey department [Emphasis mine].32

And what is of interest, to quote Becker, is:

The Catholic mission did not want to increase the number of the edu­
cated unemployed in India and thus create more dissatisfied people with
little chance of employment. The economic underdevelopment called for
another type of education. Side by side with primary education, training
in agriculture and instruction in various handicrafts had to be given.
In 1901 ce, a trade school was envisaged and it was established
in 1907 when a Catholic tea planter donated Rs. 5,000 towards its
end, in memory of his deceased wife. They also took over the seri­
culture farm from the government and used the help of the orphan
boys.33 The contradictory and very strategized functioning of this
group of intellectuals echoes the British imperialist ideology, albeit
at a lower level.
In the very first year of the Catholic Mission, Hopfenmueller
repeatedly made proposals, as ‘the Europeans in Shillong desired’,
for an educational institution with a boarding school for girls.
Interestingly, archival records show the sanction of an expenditure
of Rs. 1,300 for the purchase of furniture and apparatus for the
Shillong European and Eurasian school and a payment in advance,
from the allotment of Rs. 35,000, to the suppliers had been ordered
as early as 1903-05 ce.34 Another record shows an expenditure of
Rs. 232 sanctioned for the European Girls’ School in Shillong for
 Cultural Hegemony, First World War 439

the construction of ‘a four-seated latrine’, and Rs. 3,500 for a hostel,

kitchen and resident masters’ quarters.35 Thus the establishment of
such a school was much underway before the Prefect Apostolic,
Becker, contacted the ‘Loreto Sisters’, who already had seven large
schools in India, in 1908 ce. Borgia Irwin and Annunziata came to
Shillong and found the place very favourable and also remarked:
‘We were treated with exquisite hospitality by the German salvato­
rian sisters.…We felt as if we were in a corner of Germany, hearing
German spoken everywhere around us.’ The prefect apostolic
donated six acres of land and a sum of Rs. 20,000 for the establish­
ment of the same.
Following the visit of Charles Bayly, governor of the province of
East Bengal and Assam, Loreto Convent, was officially recognized
as an English Higher Secondary School, and henceforth regularly
received grants-in-aid. It started with 23 day scholars and three
boarders on 8 May 1909. Besides European and Anglo-Indian
girls, boys upto 10 years of age were also admitted. The University
of Cambridge in England recognized it as a centre for its examina­
tions in Assam, which started from 1913 onwards. Next the prefect
apostolic convinced the Irish Christian Brothers at Calcutta to
start a similar school for boys and in May 1913 Fabian Kennealy
came to Shillong to take stock of the situation. Becker offered very
generous financial assistance and let the Christian Brothers also
take the services of Placidus Meier, who had a degree in Natural
Science from Liverpool, as teacher of physics and mathematics.
The institute was named St Edmund’s College, after Edmund Igna­
tius Rice, the founder of the Congregation of Christian Brothers
and also the baptismal name of the prefect apostolic. The school
was formally inaugurated in 1916.36
Besides, the Salvatorians in all, established 12 elementary
schools under the government including a higher elementary
school with a boarding house at Haflong, a Middle English School
and 37 primary schools for the local people in Shillong with 356
boys and 312 girls. These schools, in general, followed the syllabi
laid down by the government and complemented by regular reli­
gious instruction.37 What is remarkable in the given statistics is
the male-female ratio being almost equal compared to other parts
440 Meeta Deka

of India.38 The gendered division of trade skills are apparent with

the Salvatorian Sisters establishing two home science schools to
impart practical instruction, where various household skills such
as cooking, washing, ironing, stitiching, knitting and crochet
were taught to girls. For the training of the boys, there was an
agricultural school, a handicrafts school with various trades, like
carpentry, making of silk thread and gardening. As regards charity
work they conducted five orphanages, two dispensaries, schemes
for the construction of a big hospital, a leper asylum were under­
way.39 The Salvatorians thus made extensive efforts to promote
‘cultural hegemony’ embedded with strict patriarchal values at the
local level within the larger colonial scheme. To quote Antonio
Gramsci:
Thus there are historically formed specialised categories for the exercise
of the intellectual function … they undergo more extensive and complex
elaboration in connection with the dominant group.… Parallel with the
attempt to deepen and broaden the ‘intellectuality’ of each individual,
there has also been an attempt to multiply and narrow the various spe­
cialisations. This can be seen from educational institutions at all levels,
up to and including the organisms that exist to promote so-called ‘high­
culture’ in all fields of science and technology.40
First World War changed the scene almost abruptly for the
German Salvatorians. A political war that had cultural implica­
tions manifested in the ‘War Speeches of the Prime Minister of
Great Britain’. In the speech delivered in Edinburgh on 18 Septem­
ber 1914 ce, the prime minister stated:
… we and our allies are withstanding a power whose aim is nothing less
than the domination of Europe. It is indeed the avowed belief of the lead­
ers of German thought, I will not say of the German people …, that such
a domination, carrying with it the supremacy of what they call German
culture and the German spirit, is the best thing that could happen to the
world.

Again, he acknowledged the contributions of German culture:

Mankind owes much to Germany, a very great debt for the contributions
she has made to philosophy, to science, and to the arts, but that which
 Cultural Hegemony, First World War 441

is specifically German in the movement of the world in the last 30 years

has been, on the intellectual side.… We were believed by these cultivated
observers to be the decadent descendants of a people who, by a combina­
tion of luck and fraud had managed to obtain dominion over a vast …
surface … of the globe. This fortuitous aggregation which goes by the
name of the British Empire was supposed to be so insecurely founded,
and so loosely knit together, that, at the touch of serious menace from
without, it would fall to pieces and tumble to the ground.41

This illustrates the fear of a counter-cultural hegemony as in

the same speech, he also states, ‘… it is from that power that the
claim proceeds to impose its culture, its spirit—which means its
domination—upon the rest of Europe’.42 Thus in Assam the war
created chaos and confusion among the German Salvatorians who
were now being harassed in more ways than one. They had to reg­
ister at the office of the deputy commissioner and sign documents
that they would do nothing to damage the interests of the British
government. All arms had to be surrendered, while no missionary
was allowed to leave his/her residence without permission of mili­
tary and civil authorities.The mission headquarters were under
strict police vigilance and employees and servants were offered
rewards for report of any conversation among the missionaries
related to war. Initially the missionaries of Assam were not interned
in the prison camps at Ahmednagar but with the sinking of the
Lusitania, the British government promulgated an order by which
all German nationals including all missionaries below 45 years of
age were to be interned. This was unexpected as it was contrary to
the assurances of the government. Only Protus Reichman who was
above 45 years was retained, sent to a civilian camp at Jowai in the
Khasi Hills, later taken to Ahmednagar and from there to Yercaud
in south India. The Salvatorian Sisters were allowed to stay back
but after afew months they, too, met the same fate. No substitutes
were sent except for the temporary appointment of Paul Lefebvre
to take charge of the Assam Mission, and very soon the mission
press, various workshops and dentist dispensaries were closed
down.43
During the war years, rumours of widespread ‘German espio­
nage and phantom Zeppelin airships hovering above the English
442 Meeta Deka

coastline’ as also those of the ‘Angels of Mon’, etc., were circulated

by newspapers44 and by word of mouth all over Europe. Rumours,
particularly during war crisis play ‘the role of the trigger and mobi­
lizer’ and hence ‘a powerful instrument for … transmission’.45 The
British became suspicious of every German move, and rumoured
that the German missionaries, ‘had wireless sets in the belfry of
the church with which they communicated with the “Emden” and
other German ships in the Indian Ocean … that they had a large
arms depot’ in order to instigate the local people against the Brit­
ish on the Germans reaching India. The only arms the mission had
was a broken hunting gun and two revolvers which were handed
over to the authorities in the early stages of the war. Another
rumour that was floated was that Germany required the services
of the Prefect Apostolic and so an airship had been sent to take
him away. This rumour alarmed even the British superintendent of
Police who denied belief in the rumour, and yet wanted an assur­
ance that the prefect apostolic was still in Shillong and would not
leave the country without the consent of the government.46 Several
strict notifications and orders were enforced which directed ‘every
person of German, Austrian or Bulgarian nationality … shall on
arrival in Bengal from any port or place not in British India’, report
himself to the Commissioner of Police in Calcutta and to the Mag­
istrate of the district one may visit.47 Curiously enough, religious
associations were termed as a ‘Company’ within the definition
contained in the Enemy Trading Act. An excerpt from the legisla­
tion:
Whereas certain hostile foreigners were on the 3rd of August, 1914, mem­
bers of the religious association in Assan named Sisters of the Divine
Saviour … the Governor General in Council is pleased to declare that the
powers conferred by section 7 of the said Act shall extend to the prop­
erty, movable and immovable, of the said religious association [emphasis
mine].48

The missionaries departed on 9 July 1915 ce, with police, and

later military escort with loaded guns and bayonets. They reached
Ahmednagar and were interned in Camp A,49 often described as
a ‘criminal colony’, which had the largest number of prisoners,
 Cultural Hegemony, First World War 443

800 in all, and was in a deplorable condition. Becker states that

it was ‘intolerable for people used to intellectual pursuits and
work’.50 Camp B was for the well-to-do persons. Camp A was
guarded by a double row of barbed wire; the outer fence was 3 m
high and the inner one was lower and inbetween the two, British
guards with bayonets paroled the area.51 Becker wrote on 28 July
1915 ce, requesting a transfer to the civil camp that ‘according to
German law Catholic priests are free from military servive … we
have worked for years in close cooperation with the Government
of Assam and our services have been gratefully and repeatedly
acknowledged … the kind of treatment given to us at Ahmednagar
in no way corresponds to the assurances given by the Government
of Assam’.52 After several pleas the missionaries were allowed to
leave in March 1916 ce for Germany and Austria in a small mer­
chant ship Golconda as ‘unwanted foreigners’. Interestingly, the
name, Golconda, was obliterated with paint in Bombay so as to
conceal its identity as carrying German prisoners, to avoid attack
by German submarines. They reached London on 16 May 1916 ce,
where a British delegation took away the passports of the prisoners
and they were once again imprisoned in the Exhibition buildings
of Woodgreen. The prefect apostolic of Assam wrote to the Cardi­
nal Bourne of Westminster that they were interned in a camp, to
make efforts to send them back to Germany but instead they were
transferred to the prison camp of Stratford, to the east of London.
From there, they were put on a dutch steamer in groups of 40 at a
time and sent back to Germany.53
Most of the missionaries suffered from mental depression,
termed as ‘barbed wire sickness’, and Becker, Pro-Prefect Rudolf
Fontaine, Marcellinus Molz, Placidus Meier, Herbertz Winkler and
Gratian Klimke, who were very active missionaries, were expelled
while others volunteered as military chaplains for Germany. Five
mission brothers, Symphorian Haas, Juniper Zehradnik and
Crispinian, Protus Reichman, Rufinus Mageira, were interned at
Ahmednagar and reached Germany only in January 1920 ce. Con­
sequent to an order on August, and subsequently, in November
1915 ce, the Salvatorian sisters were asked to leave for Germany
inboard the Golconda and on reaching Germany dedicated
444 Meeta Deka

themselves to the care of the sick and the wounded in hospitals

during the remaining war years. The Mission Superior Scholastica
Hopfenmüller, Ursula Meier, Ignatia Greiner, Gabriela Bohnheim,
Eustachia Bauer, Gebharda Dietmann, Innocentia Stahl, Priscilla
Stadler, Bethilda Fotschki and Theobalda Schroder were expelled
from Assam. On the question of the return of the German mis­
sionaries after the war, F.C. Kelly, the founder president of the
Catholic Church Extension Society, took up their cause but British
officials were no longer willing to return to the earlier status quo
although no German missionary committed any offence against
the interests of the British government, based in particular on ‘the
fear of all that was German, a kind of phobia…’ .54
The war thus ushered new equations in the domain of cultural
hegemony in India where the rivalry among the various strata of
ecclesiastical intellectuals became apparent. Cardinal Bourne, in
a speech at the Catholic Congress at Liverpool in August 1920 ce
defended British policy towards the German missionaries. This
was counter-attacked at the Catholic Congress held at Wurzburg in
September the same year where the German Salvatorians expressed
distrust in the Catholic Congress and stated that this ultimately
led to ‘a complete “Anglicization” of the German missions’. In July
1921 ce, the then Secretary of the Propaganda, Laurenti entrusted
the Assam mission to the Salesians of Don Bosco and the German
Salvatorians had finally to renounce their claim to rejoin the mis­
sion work in Assam.55 In 1922 ce, a German publication stated
that the Vatican paper, L’Osservatore Romano, published a detailed
account of the Assam mission and was silent on the contributions
of the Salvatorian missionaries. To quote: ‘Everything is praised:
the zeal of the Christians, their perseverance, their loyalty, their
knowledge of the faith, their schools, etc., but not a single word
about those to whose sweat and toils they are all due!’.56 It made no
mention of the Salvatorians and this clearly reveals the rivalry even
among the categories in the category of ecclesiatics. It took a hun­
dred and twenty five years for the generalate to acknowledge their
contributions by declaring 2015 ce as the ‘Salvatorian Missionary
Year’. On this occasion and in support of the initiative, the historic
dates of the mission were put on record. The year 2000 ce records
 Cultural Hegemony, First World War 445

the return of the mission to Shillong, while 2001 ce marked the

reburial of Otto Hopfenmüller next to Shillong Cathedral.57
The various categories of intellectuals that emerged alongside
the historical process of colonialism, represents, as Gramsci states,
‘an historical continuity uninterrupted even by the most compli­
cated and radical changes in political and social forms’.58 This is
true in so far as the Christian missions in general are concerned
but the narratives of the German Salvatorians were somewhat
submerged and even effaced from the history of the Catholic mis­
sions in India. These historically formed specialized categories of
intellectuals as ‘functionaries’ or ‘deputies’ play into the colonial
scheme of cultural hegemony, a byproduct of the expanding and
volatile British-German international rivalry, and while Christian
missions in general represent that ‘historical continuity’ despite
the war crisis, the German Salvatorians may appear to have lost
the race even as their imprint on the history of the north-east
remains indelible as ever.

Notes
1. James Joll, Europe Since 1870: An International History, Penguin,
1990, p. 25.
2. James L. Barton, ‘The Effect of the War on Protestant Missions’,
in The Harvard Theological Review, vol. 12, no. 1 (January 1919),
Cambridge University Press on behalf of the Harvard Divinity
School, pp. 1-35.
3. Ibid., p. 5.
4. David R. Syiemlieh, ‘Colonial Encounter and Christian Missions in
North East India’, Proceedings of the Indian History Congress, vol. 73
(2012), pp. 509-27, Indian History Congress, pp. 514-15.
5. Lalsangkima Pachuau, ‘Church-Mission Dynamics in Northeast
India’, International Bulletin of Missionary Research, vol. 27, no. 4,
October 2003., https://journals.sagepub.com › doi › abs, accessed on
28 August 2019, p. 158.
6. David R. Syiemlieh, ‘Colonial Encounter and Christian Missions in
North East India’, Proceedings of the Indian History Congress, vol. 73
(2012), pp. 509-27, Indian History Congress, pp. 514-15.
7. Meeta Deka, ‘The German Salvatorian Missionaries in the Northeast
446 Meeta Deka

(1890-1915)’, The Journal of The Assam Research Society, Dr Pramod

Chandra Bhattacharya Felicitation Volume, vol. XXXIX, nos. 1 & 2,
2004-6, Kamarupa Anusandhana Samiti (Assam Research Society),
Guwahati, Assam, 2007, pp. 64-8.
8. Antonio Gramsci, Selections from the Prison Notebooks of Antonio
Gramsci, ed. and tr. Quintin Hoare and Geoffrey Nowell Smith,
1996, reprinted 2014, Orient Blackswan, New Delhi, p. 5.
9. Ibid., p. 7.
10. Christophorus Becker, History of the Catholic Missions in Northeast
India, tr. and ed. G. Stadler and S. Karotemprel, Vendrame
Missiological Insitute, Shillong, 1980, p. 3.
11. Becker, ‘Farewell to the Parish at Seußling’, in Father Otto
Hopfenmüller of the Society of the Divine Saviour: A German Pioneer
in an Indian Mission, originally titled P. Otto Hopfenmüller Aus
der Gesellschaft des Göttlichen Heilandes: Ein Deutscher Pionier
einer Indischen Mission, first published in the series, Pioniere der
Weltmission, no. 4, by P.J. Louis, Xaverius Publishing House A.G.,
Aachen, Germany, and Immensee Publishing House, Switzerland,
1923, translated and published by Society of the Divine Saviour
Salvatorians, Bangalore, India, Matha Prints, 2008, p. 157.
12. Deka, op. cit., p. 64; also Translator’s Preface in ibid., p. x.
13. Gramsci, op. cit., p. 12.
14. Loc. cit.
15. Thomas R. Metcalf, Ideologies of the Raj, Cambridge University
Press, 1998, reprinted 2013, p. 48.
16. K.N. Panikkar, Colonialism, Culture and Resistance, Oxford
University Press, 2007, reprinted 2011, p. 19.
17. H.K. Barpujari, S.K. Barpujari, and A.C. Bhuyan (eds), Political
History of Assam, vol. I, Publication Board, Government of Assam,
1999, p. 176.
18. Becker, op. cit., p. 5.
19. Becker, op. cit., p. 98.
20. Ibid., pp. 98-9, 118.
21. Ibid., p. 156.
22. Becker, ‘Off to India’, Father Otto Hopfenmüller, op. cit., 2008,
pp. 184-94.
23. Becker, Ibid., pp. 7-13; also Becker, ‘In the Desired Land’, Father Otto
Hopfenmüller, op. cit., pp. 195-202.
24. Becker, ‘Missionary to the Pagans’, in Father Otto Hopfenmüller,
op. cit., p. 214.
 Cultural Hegemony, First World War 447

25. Becker, History of the Catholic Missions in Northeast India, op. cit.,
pp. 26-7.
26. Annual Report of the Assam Mission, Becker, History of the Catholic
Missions in Northeast India, op. cit., p. 338.
27. Ibid.
28. Becker, ‘First Construction Worries’, in Father Otto Hopfenmüller,
op. cit., p. 227.
29. Becker, History of the Catholic Missions in Northeast India, op. cit.,
1980, p. 158.
30. Persons undergoing instruction in preparation for Christian baptism
or confirmation.
31. Cuijpers, Piet, Important Topics on the Salvatorian Missionary Year
2015, https://sds.org › files › Important-Topics › Important-Topics-
EN, accessed on 27 August 2019.
32. Paul B. Steffen, Dimensions of Indian Civilization – Outsiders part
in It, Christopher Becker SDS and John B. Hoffmann SJ and their
Contribution to Promote Tribal Communities in India, 2016, pp. 49­
71, Becker, History of the Catholic Missions in Northeast India,
op. cit., pp. 255-65.
33. Ibid., p. 268.
34. Home Department of the Government of India, Assam Secretariat
Proceedings, Home A for March 1905, Shillong, The Assam
Secretariat Printing Office; Serial No. of Proceedings, pp. 243-5,
dated 25 February 1905, and October 1903.
35. Proceedings of the Chief Commissioner of Assam in the Departments
Under the Control of the Home Department of the Government of
India for the month of August 1905, Shillong, The Eastern Bengal
and Assam Secretariat Printing Office; Serial nos. 527-32; Nos. 880­
9.
36. Becker, History of the Catholic Missions in Northeast India, op. cit.,
pp. 272-90.
37. Ibid., p. 340.
38. Deka, op. cit., p. 67.
39. Ibid., p. 341.
40. Gramsci, op. cit., p. 10.
41. ‘A Speech in Edinburgh’, 18 September 1914, The War: Its Causes
and Its Message; Speeches Delivered by the Prime Minister, August-
October 1914, Methuen & Co., London, 1914, pp. 22-3.
42. Ibid., p. 24.
448 Meeta Deka

43. Becker, History of the Catholic Missions in Northeast India, op. cit.,
pp. 342-5.
44. David Clarke, ‘Rumours of Angels: A Legend of the First World
War’, in Folklore, vol. 113, no. 2, Taylor & Francis, 2002, pp. 151-73;
https://www.jstor.org/stable/1260673; accessed on 21 August 2019,
07:09 UTC.
45. Ranajit Guha, Elementary Aspects of Peasant Insurgency in Colonial
India, Oxford University Press, New Delhi, 1983, p. 256.
46. Becker, History of the Catholic Missions in Northeast India, op. cit.,
pp. 343-4.
47. Notifications and Orders, Relating to the War, in Force in Bengal,
Government of Bengal, Legislative Department, Calcutta, Bengal
Secretariat Book Depot, 1916.
48. Legislation and Orders relating to the War, Legislative Department,
Government of India, Department of Commerce and Industry,
No. 9222, dated 7 September 1918, Calcutta, Superintendent
Government Printing India, 1919.
49. Christina Lubinski, Valeria Giacomin and Klara Schnitzer,
Countering Political Risk in Colonial India: German Multinationals
and the Challenge of Internment (1914-1947), Harvard Business
School General Management Unit Working Paper No. 18-090,
2018, pp. 7-11; https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_
id=3133242, accessed on 27 August 2019.
50. Becker, History of the Catholic Missions in Northeast India, op. cit.,
p. 353.
51. Ibid., p. 349.
52. Ibid., pp. 361-2.
53. Ibid., pp. 367-75.
54. Ibid., pp. 376-82.
55. Ibid., pp. 384-91.
56. Allegemeine Rundschau: Wochenschriftfuer Politik and Kultur
(German), 25 March 1922; cited in Becker, Father Otto Hopfenmüller,
op. cit., p. 398.
57. Cuijpers, op. cit.
58. Gramsci, op. cit., p. 12.
 CHAPTER 18

Christianity vs Indigeneity
Colonial State, Mission and Laipianism in Chin Hills

PUM KHAN PAU

Colonialism and the Christian missions are two distinct

institutionalized entities that often move alongside to any new
venture but are opposed to each other fundamentally.1 While the
primary objective of the former was predominantly economic and
its practice was conditioned by economic laws,2 the latter mainly
aimed at transforming the sociocultural and religious lives of
the people through and by means of Christianity. Generally, the
relations between Christian missions and colonialism had not
always been ‘cordial’ in all cases; it apparently depends more often
on the local situation. For instance, missionaries were at first
prohibited to start evangelical activities in India owing to Indian
religious sensibilities. But in the latter part of the nineteenth
century doors were opened for the missionaries who began to
interact, if not collaborate, with colonial rulers in different forms
and at many levels. Such mutual connection was believed to be
dependent on the particular mission and issues involved as well
as the nature of the colonial situation.3 Recent studies thus aptly
state that ‘missionaries followed hard on the heels of soldiers and
administrators’,4 and in most cases ‘if the missions did not precede
the colonial movement, they did follow in the heels of colonial
powers’.5 Although the two entities differ in their objective and
methods they have one thing in common: they are unwelcomed
in a strange land and they encountered opposition from the
indigenous people and traditions.
Following the routes taken by colonial soldiers, Christian
450 Pum Khan Pau

missionaries ventured into the Chin Hills, along the Indo-Myanmar

border, in the late nineteenth century. As colonial soldiers faced
strong resistance from the local people, so also did the Christian
missions encounter an indigenous movement, called Laipianism,
and were stiffly contested by local traditions. To critically assess
the problems and prospects of Christian missions and Laipianism,
which brought significant changes in the socio-religious life of the
Zo people, is the main objective of this investigation. The main
focus of this work is on the Chin Hills with particular reference
to the colonial period. Falling in line with other Zo scholars6 this
paper employs the term Zo as synonymous to the so-called Chin,
Kuki and Lushai (Mizo) of the India-Burma borderlands.

Introducing the Locale: Expansion of Colonialism

In the late nineteenth century, there was a marked shift in British
mercantile opinion, which had far-reaching impact, especially
in Asia and Africa. During this period, there was a ‘feeling of
uncertainty, even of insecurity’ among the British mercantile group
because of the increasing problems faced by British merchants in
and out of Europe.7 Interestingly, it shook the entire commercial
policy of Europe thereby raising the question of the ‘hitherto
neglected’ areas, that is, Asia and Africa, to be considered for
new markets.8 This development strongly encouraged the British
mercantile community in Rangoon who strongly urged the British
administration to protect their trade from any aggression and also
to annex Upper Burma during this period.9 It was followed by a
proposal to open up a ‘highway to China’ that would pass through
Upper Burma. W.G. Hynes thus rightly noticed that there was ‘a
kind of direct influence of the mercantile mind on official policy’
and, as far as Anglo-Burmese relations is concerned, that policy
culminated into the Third Anglo-Burmese War (1885-6). The war
finally completed annexation of Burma.
The strategic importance of Upper Burma to serve the pur­
pose of British colonial interest could not be fully realized so long
as there remained unadministered hill tracts, commonly known
as the Chin-Lushai Hills, which often became the sources of
 Christianity vs Indigeneity 451

disturbances along the Indo-Myanmar border. The British India

government thus proposed a policy to cut through these hill tracts:
In the open season of 1887-8, a project for opening up the
Chin country from the Bengal boundary in the west to the frontier
of Burma proper on the east was started in India, prematurely so
far as we were concerned. It was proposed that roads should be
made through the hills, communication established, and the hill
people subjugated. The phrase ‘from the Salween to the sea’ was
invented and had some effect.10
Though it took some years to fulfil this proposition it was pri­
marily this idea, albeit there being other factors that contributed to
it, which impelled the British to send series of military expeditions
to the Chin-Lushai hills in the late 1880s and annexed it to their
possession.11
The Chin-Lushai hills, which stretches from 92° and 95ʹ lon­
gitude (east) to 20° and 25ʹ latitude north of Equator,12 was, after
annexation, divided into three administrative units: Chin Hills,
South Lushai Hills and North Lushai Hills. The management of
these divisions fell, partly to Burma, partly to Bengal and partly
to Assam. In 1892, the earliest attempt was made to amalgamate
these divided hill tracts to form a single administrative unit under
the aegis of the lieutenant governor of Bengal at Calcutta, which
ended abruptly without any substantial results because of what has
been considered ‘the rivalries amongst the colonial administra­
tors’.13 Another attempt, in 1898, succeeded to combine the two
Lushai Hills districts into one under the chief commissioner of
Assam; the Chin Hills, however, remained with Burma. On the
basis of this arrangement a formal demarcation was carried out
dividing the Chin-Lushai Hills in the middle according to the
Government of India Act, 1935. The post-colonial repercussion of
colonial legacy was immeasurably far-reaching and the prospects
of re-unification of these hill tracts were thus acutely bleak.
The Chin Hills, now Chin State of Myanmar, was predomi­
nantly inhabited by a congeries of tribes who were generally
referred to as Chin by colonial writers but locally called themselves
otherwise. The term, ‘Chin’, is an appellation generally used today
to denote the various tribes and sub-tribes inhabiting these hills. A
452 Pum Khan Pau

variation of it is said to be used in a thirteenth-century inscription

of the old Pagan Kingdom, that the people living on the mountains
in the west are ascribed as ‘Khyan’.14 It was Father Sangermano,
however, who is believed to be the earliest, in 1873, to refer to these
tribes: ‘To the east of Chien mountains between 20o 30ʹ and 21o
30ʹ north latitude, is a petty nation called Jo. They are supposed to
have been Chien, who in progress of time have become Burmese,
speaking their language, although very corruptly, and adopting all
their customs.’15 The venerable missionary was in all probability
referring to those living in the plain adjoining the Chin hills, called
later by colonial writers as ‘tame’ Chins. By the 1880s the term,
spelt as ‘Chin’, was in official use.
Attempts then began to trace the root of the term. Bertram
Carey and Henry Tuck who played a significant role in the subju­
gation and pacification of these tribes say that Chin is a Burmese
corruption of the Chinese ‘Jin’ or ‘Yen’, meaning man.16 To Profes­
sor Gordon Luce who had done considerable work on the history
of Burma, it is derived from the old Burmese word ‘Khyan’ mean­
ing ‘ally or comrade’.17 A Burmese scholar, on the other hand,
suggests that Chin is a corruption of the old Burmese word ‘Khin’
or ‘Khyen’ meaning brother.18 Taw Sein Ko, a Burmese lecturer at
Cambridge University is of the view that in common with many
tribal designations in Asia both Chin and Kachin (earlier spelt as
Kakhyen) signify ‘man par excellence’.19 It should be noted that
‘Hky’ or ‘Kh’ is pronounced as ‘Ch’ in Burmese.20
The people call themselves not by the ‘Chin’ appellation but
use the term ‘Zo’. This too is said to be in use from early times.21
Captain Thomas Herbert Lewin, who was superintendent in the
Chittagong Hill Tracts, was in 1874 one of the first to refer to the
Chin-Lushai people as such:
The ‘Dzo’ tribes inhabit the hilly country to the east of the
Chittagong district in lower Bengal; their habitat may be roughly
stated as comprised within the parallels of latitude 22o 45ʹN and
25o 20ʹN, and between the meridians of longitude 92o 30ʹ and 93o
45ʹ.
Under the term ‘Dzo’ are included all the hill tribes of this
region, who wear their hair in a knot resting on the nape of the
 Christianity vs Indigeneity 453

neck. The tribes further south and east, of whom little is as yet
known, are distinguished under the generic title of ‘Poi’; these
wear the hair knotted upon the temple.
The ‘Dzo’ state that the poi language is entirely distinct from
theirs, and that they have no common medium of intercommuni­
cation. I am myself disposed to think that the two languages must
have some affinity, but I have as yet no certain information on this
point.22
Robert Blair McCabe, who was political officer of the North
Lushai Hills in the early 1890s, also uses the term to describe the
Lushai.23 On the basis of linguistic affinity G.A. Grierson placed
the Zo people in the Kuki-Chin group of the Tibeto-Burman fam­
ily. He, however, correctly states that the people do not themselves
recognize the name Chin, but call themselves Yo or Zo in the
north, Lai in the centre, and Sho in the south, besides many other
tribal names.24 The Chin or Zo has thus many variations, such as
Zo, Zhou, Sho, Asho, Hiou, Cho, Dzo, Yo, Jo, Yaw and the like.

Zo Traditions: Beliefs and Practices

Historically, the Zo people had been isolated from a more
advanced civilization until the British conquered their land. Being
in isolation for quite a long period of time they had cultivated a
unique and uncorrupted society and culture of their own. Their
social, economic and religious life was closely intertwined.
Therefore, the study of one, perhaps the religious beliefs and
practices, would suffice to reflect all the other aspects.
Traditionally, Zo people were what earlier anthropologists
termed animists. They believed in numerous deities, which they
thought were capable of helping or harming man’s interest. This
they divided into two, viz., inn dawi (household spirit) and gam
dawi (country spirit). They offered sacrifices to the spirits that are
capable of helping man, whereas those that are harming them are
propitiated and appeased. Each and every ill fortune was, there­
fore, attributed to evil spirits who had been angered in some way
known or unknown and for that sacrifice was offered. ‘These spir­
its’, wrote Cin Do Kham, ‘were believed to inhabit different parts
454 Pum Khan Pau

of human dwellings, springs, treks, rocks, rivers, mountains and so

on.’ He further says:
If any misfortune such as illness, ominous dreams, etc. occurred, the
affected person offered to the appropriate spirits sacrifices of animals
ranging from a chicken to a mithun or a buffalo.… If sacrifice made to a
particular spirit proved to be ineffective then one spirit after another was
tried until the whole series of 68 spirits had been offered sacrifice to. In
this way a sick person often became impoverished for life.25

Summing up the essence of Zo religious practices, a recent Zo

scholar observed: ‘The Zo religion has its ultimate objectives the
physical well being of the spirit of man, the material happiness and
prosperity of man on earth and the longevity of the span of life
here and now.’26
However, while believing in numerous deities, some also
believed in one Supreme Being. According to Vumson: ‘Zo believe
in a supreme God or pathian. God is good. He gives health, rich­
ness, children and other human wishes. God is never cruel and
hurts people. Therefore, Zo people never sacrifice or offer anything
to appease God.’27 The Zo cosmology may thus be characterized as
a ‘two-tiered scheme’28—microcosmic and macrocosmic. Thomas
Herbert Lewin’s record of a Khyeng’s belief as related to him thus
makes interesting reading:
We have two-gods: Patyen; he is the greatest; it was he made the world.
He lives in the west, and takes charge of the sun at night. Our other god
is named Khozing; he is the patron of our tribe, and we are specially loved
by him. The tiger is Khozing’s house-dog, and he will not hurt us, because
we are the children of his master.29

Lewin was, of course, writing of the Zo tribes in the Chittagong

Hill Tracts. In reality there were divergent beliefs among the dif­
ferent Zo tribes. The Sihzang believed that there was no Supreme
Being and the world is but filled with evil spirits. These spirits must
be propitiated or bribed to refrain from doing the particular harm
of which each is capable. The Hakas or Laimi and other southern­
ers, however, strongly believed that there was a God, called by them
as the Khozing. Though Khozing, they believed, was not capable
of showering blessings on them, he was able to trouble them in
 Christianity vs Indigeneity 455

various ways; hence sacrifices were made to propitiate him. They

also believed in the existence of the spirit of the village, the spirit of
the family, or clan all of which were prone to do damage and inflict
suffering.30 Sing Khaw Khai, however, contested this:
The Chin traditional term Khuazing exists as against Khuavak (the light).
The word zing is literally ‘dark’ in English. So Khuazing will mean the
Khua filled with darkness in the sense of the matter. Darkness means
the absence of light or the state of being invisible. In that case ‘darkness’
appears the ‘invisible’ image. Hence Khuazing symbolises the ‘Invisible’.
In Tedim, this idea is represented by their term Muh mawhte, that means
divine beings. So it may mean divine beings. (The Tedim believe that if
the ‘Invisible’ is seen, the one who sees it would die. So it may be said that
the Khuazing is the divine which controls the Khua, the innate world.31

About the ‘Khyen’ tribe, Lieutenant T.A. Trant, one of the ear­
liest writers on these tribes, noted, ‘Only one trace still exists of
supreme authority, and is in the person of the Passine (Pasian in
Tedim), or head of their rude religion. They have no idea of the
Supreme Being, nor have they any tradition respecting the cre­
ation: they are the children of the mountains, and nature alone has
any claim on their feelings.’32 Though it appears that there were
divergent views on the representation of Zo cosmology, it is to
be generally accepted that Pasian represents God and Khuazing
may be identified with demons or evil spirits. While the Pasian or
Supreme Being need not be appeased with sacrifices, the Khuazing
or Evil Spirit, which could cause trouble, required to be propitiated
with a lot of sacrifices.
The sacrificial and propitiatory rites of the Zos may be gen­
erally divided into three categories: personal rite, household rite
and communal rite. While the first two rites were sponsored by
the individual household and managed by the head of the house,
the last category resources were funded by the village, as a whole,
and management was conducted by the village priest.33 One of the
most important household rites was that of ancestor worship or
Pu-sha biakna among the Tedim Zo people. Pu-sha was the chief
god of all the household gods. When the clan priest conducted the
worship, the names of the pedigrees of successive generations were
recounted.34 Ancestor sacrifice was another rite of the household.
456 Pum Khan Pau

It involved animal offerings, like pigs or mithuns, and often times

cereal and intoxicating drinks were offered. The priests concern
performed all the types of rites. There were the clan priests, house­
hold priests and village priests.
The greatest household ceremonial rites was the Ton feast
or Feast of Merit. It is known as Bawi-lam and Khuangcawi in
the Haka area. In the Feast of Merit, which took several days to
perform, a large number from one’s own village as well as from
neighbouring ones were fed and entertained. Sacrifices were made
to all sorts of beings. The major sacrifice, however, consist of the
ritual slaying of one or more mithuns. The sacrificials were sup­
posed to go to misikhua (the abode of dead). It was believed that
when the individual who performed the sacrifice died he would
have those mithuns with him in the misikhua. The sacrifices were
at the same time the validation of status in the eyes of the liv­
ing public.35 In terms of the economic liabilities, the communal
rite was most heavy and imposed quite a serious burden on the
household budget, because unlike the other two, every household,
which contributed to the expense of this rite, received no recip­
rocal distribution of meat. Zo religious life was, therefore, closely
intertwined with the social and economic activities.

Indigenous Movement: The Life, Teaching and

Ministry of Pau Cin Hau
Against the backdrop of such a socially obligatory and economically
expensive religious beliefs and practices, emerged an indigenous
socio-religious reform movement pioneered by Pau Cin Hau. He
was the fourth son of Khan Lian, the eleventh generation of the
Sukte family.36 Born in 1859 at Tedim, in Northern Chin hills, Pau
Cin Hau was brought up as an ordinary normal child according to
the traditional patterns of life. He spent his early days attending
his father’s mithuns and goats. When he became mature enough,
his parents sent him to Mualbem (the capital of Sukte dynasty) to
learn the art of warfare and language of Teizang, for it was said in
those days enemies did not dare to kill a captive who spoke the
royal language of Teizang.37 It was, therefore, imperative for every
 Christianity vs Indigeneity 457

emerging leader such as Pau Cin Hau to learn and speak Teizang.
After completing his early traditional education at Mualbem,
Pau Cin Hau returned to Tedim and practised cultivation. At that
time Tedim, the capital of Kamhau Chief Khaw Cin, was at the
zenith of its power. Since his boyhood Pau Cin Hau had been
involved in prophesying about the future. While in Tedim he pre­
dicted the destruction of the capital to which no one paid heed
seriously. His vision was composed into a song38:
Thangvan-a zal Sian zamang aw
Tongdam khak hemin za’ng e
Pupa’ pat loh khua van nuai ah
Sian tongdam sinthu hi e.
(Thou God of gods, reigning on high
I heard a hint—Thy word
Unheard, unknown in days of yore
God’s word prevails through all the land)
It is, however, interesting to note that in the early 1960s an
American anthropologist E. Pendleton Banks conducted field
study in the Chin hills and discovered that ‘Pau Cin Hau had
earlier acted as disciple to a prophetess named Pi (an honorific)
Nuam Dim, daughter of Hau Zui’. The study further reveals:
Tiddim, the chief village of the Northern Chin Hills, was ruled in the
later 1880s by Khua Cin, a powerful and cruel chief, who held sway over
two hundred villages and oppressed the poor. Nuam Dim had vision in
which Pa Sian (God—‘Pa’ is the usual male honorific) told her that he was
angry with Khua Cin and that his vengeance would take the form of kill­
ing Khua Cin’s son, wiping out his family line and destroying his inn ka.39
Banks further argues that ‘it is highly improbable that Nuam
Dim could have been influenced by Christianity in the 1880s’. It
thus seemed to appear that Nuam Dim’s prophesy had been reiter­
ated by Pau Cin Hau, who, according to Banks, was aged sixteen
or seventeen then and ‘was chosen by Pa Sian to prophesy the date
when the inn ka would be destroyed’. The destruction of Tedim
by British forces, which finally happened under Major Raikes in
1889, was, therefore, believed to be the fulfillment of what had
been prophesied before.40
458 Pum Khan Pau

Consequent upon the British expedition Khan Lian and his

family fled and took refuge to Lailui, a nearby village. It was here
that Pau Cin Hau suffered serious illness for about fifteen years
(1888-1902) and of course a turning point in his life. During his
prolonged illness he continued to receive series of revelations from
God, which he later described: ‘From the year 1900 onward in
dreams and visions I received a series of communications which I
hold to be divine and are the foundations both of my alphabet and
my religious teaching’.41 In his successive visions he saw heaven,
symbols of Western Civilization such as railways, steamships,
struggle between nations and races, vision of an Englishman who
taught him letters, vision of the Almighty God who came on riding
a horse to the gathering of many races of people, vision of God’s
command to abolish dawi (evil spirit) sacrifices and many more.
Pau Cin Hau and his family resorted to all possible means to
invoke the healing touch of the demons or nats for the restoration
of his health which all went in vain. Finally, he claimed that he
received a divine healing from God. In his vision he saw God, who
called him by his name and asked if he would worship Him. This
Pau Cin Hau responded: ‘I had faith in him in a moment was cured
from my illness of 15 years. During those years for the cure of that
illness I had paid the sum of Rs. 400 in making sacrifices or vari­
ous kinds of animals to the nats or demons. The cure of God was
complete and cost nothing.’42 In fact, Pau Cin Hau had no special
training or preparation for the role he had played. However, it is
believed that God prepared him by giving visions during the long
years of his illness.
In the light of these developments, Lailui, being the place
where Pau Cin Hau received visions, may, therefore, be rightly con­
sidered his Isle of Patmos.43 Pau Cin Hau’s life was totally changed
since then. Soon he started propagating what he had received from
his visions moving from one village to another. The visions thus
became the central theme of his teaching in his public ministry.
Pau Cin Hau also devised a script in accordance with, what
he believed, a revelation from God. Though there was no mention
of the new script in the 1911 and 1921 Census of India reports,
the original characters, which were 1,050, were reduced into 21
 Christianity vs Indigeneity 459

consonants and 7 vowels plus tonal signs in 1931. The script was
employed in the translation of The Sermon on the Mount by Pau
Cin Hau, with the help of Thang Cin Kham of Tonzang.44 The
invention of script earned him the name Laipianpa (the script-
creator) and hence his religion Laipianism. Some people knew this
movement as Beeltung Muut Pawl simply because the leaders blow
inside an empty zu45 pot and pray.
The Pau Cin Hau movement appeared at the time when the Zo
people had been overburdened with costly sacrifices and ancestral
worship. His teaching assumed importance and very appealing to
the need of the hour as he strongly condemned the futility of such
self-indulgent practices. A clear indication of this was when Pau
Cin Hau, according to the command of God, could dispensed with
the fear and sacrifices to spirits, people flocked to him and invited
to their homes and villages to come and drive away the evil spirits
and abolish sacrifice to them. According to the prophet:
Our Chin (Zo) ancestors worship various kinds of nats, such as house
nat, forest nat, water nat etc., altogether 54 in number. Those who have
believed and wish to enter my religion came from far distant villages and
invited them to visit them. Together with a little band of disciples I made
it my custom to accept their invitation and on entering a house or village
after praying to God would destroy completely the articles used for mak­
ing sacrifices to the nats and whereas sufferers had previously, like myself,
had to pay large sums of such sacrifices our only charge was a nominal
sum to cover traveling expenses. Sometimes it seemed as though some
of my more hasty or unintelligent followers were themselves possessed
by demons after such visit but after praying to God they speedily became
normal again.46

Laipianism was, therefore, said to have considerably removed

the predominance of the fear of dawi (spirit). The followers no
longer have faith in sacrifices offered to demons or nats for their
healing but entirely depend on the prayer of their laisang (pastor).
Interestingly, most of the followers in its early stage were those
who had been healed from such prayers. This greatly affected the
Zo’s concept of the cosmic world. The removal of the fear of dawi
(spirit) not only brought freedom from social obligations but most
importantly it broke the boundary of the microcosm (lesser spirit)
460 Pum Khan Pau

and eventually enhanced the importance of macrocosm (supreme

being).47
Pau Cin Hau based his teachings entirely on his visions. He
stressed on three main areas, viz., healing ministry, exorcism and
teaching the people to worship God and teaching the invented
writing, which worked quite effectively among the people. Of the
seven rituals mentioned by Banks, the curing ritual or healing
ministry was the most significant one often performed by a palik
or Pa-leik-thas,48 an elite group of the movement.49
One of the most important factors responsible for the popu­
larity of Pau Cin Hau’s teaching was due to its strong emphasis on
social liberation and economic benefits. The abolition of holding
extravagant feasts and wealth-consuming sacrifices to propitiate
evil spirits were well received by the socially restricted and eco­
nomically overburdened people. It, therefore, visibly improved
the condition of the people as Pau Cin Hau himself claimed: ‘One
wholesome effect of my teaching is that where formerly many who
had nothing went into debt to obtain sacrificial offerings and so
could neither afford to buy food nor pay their taxes, my followers
being free from such expenses are in much better circumstances.’50
An official report of 1912 further commented: ‘The mate­
rial prosperity of the Chins in the Northern Hills is being much
increased owing to the teaching of a Sokte prophet, Pow Chin
How, who preaches against the sacrifices of animals.’51 One nega­
tive impact of this growth, albeit less significant, according to
Stevenson was on agriculture. According to his observation: ‘The
villagers having lost their fear of the ti huai, or evil spirits of the
springs, proceeded to cut down for firewood the large shady trees
which animism had preserved over all their village springs.’52
The freedom to drink zu (rice beer), and continued practices
of traditional singing and dancing became another contributing
reasons for the widespread popular acceptance of the indigenous
movement. Drinking, singing and dancing being a part of Zo
traditional lifestyle, they were felt difficult to part with. Paradoxi­
cally, while Laipianism strongly attacked animism and some of
the Zo social practices it also tried to work in conformity with
some of the traditional practices and adapted to it. A recent study
 Christianity vs Indigeneity 461

thus contended: ‘This cultural adaptability and conversion with­

out destroying the cultural barriers proved to be effective in the
spreading of Laipianism.’53 Interestingly, in due course, with the
growing threat of evangelism, Laipianism ‘became a truly nativis­
tic movement, a rallying point for the conservative and antiforeign
elements in Chin society’.54
All these favourable factors helped popularize Laipianism.
Thus, within a short span of time the movement spread from
Tedim, its origin, to Falam, Haka and beyond the western and
northern borders, overcoming language and cultural boundaries.
An official record in 1931 stated the number of adherents to Laipi­
anism in Chin Hills district estimated at 35,700 including 26,000
in Tedim subdivision and 9,700 in Falam subdivision.55 In 1936,
Henry Noel Cochrane Stevenson recorded that almost the entire
Zanniat tribe had been converted to this cult and a total of about
27 per cent of the whole population of the Falam subdivision pro­
fessed allegiance to it.56

Christian Missions: Education and Medical Health

Christian missions had, in fact, preceded Laipianism, though the
latter spread widely much faster. The earliest Christian missionaries,
Revd Arthur E. Carson and his wife, Laura Hardin Carson, from
the American Baptist Mission, reached the Chin Hills on 15 March
1899. They first laid the foundation of Christianity among the
Zo people in Chin Hills. Though it took quite some time to gain
substantial results, ultimately it was this missionary couple and
their followers who apparently brought spiritual as well as physical
enlightenment by sowing the seed of the gospel. Even after the last
foreign missionaries had left the Chin Hills in the middle of the
twentieth century, their legacy remains; the Zo Christian converts
continued to shoulder the task of evangelization.
As it was in the case of other parts of the world so also was true
in Chin Hills that evangelical work was closely associated with
educational and medical activities. One of the foremost tasks of
the missionaries was to heal the soul as well as the body. ‘Building
a house and a schoolhouse were the first concerns of the Carsons’,57
462 Pum Khan Pau

wrote Robert G. Johnson, which clearly revealed the importance

of education to evangelical work. He further says that Carson was
very much concerned about extending medical services to the
people who were badly in need of them in order to bring them to
Christianity. In his letter to the Mission Board, Carson addressed:
‘Every disease, and they are heir to them all, is assigned to pos­
session or influence of evil spirits, and sacrifice and feasting is
the remedy.… We are sure that a medical missionary, beside the
immense amount of suffering he could relieve, could unlock the
hearts of this simple people as no other could.’58
Dr Erik Hjalmar East, a Swedish-born American, was the first
medical missionary, who reached the Chin Hills on 22 March
1902. Barely after staying for two months, Dr East soon left the
Chin Hills because of illness. His first impression during his brief
stay, however, intelligibly stressed the need for medical work:
My first impression was that the Chins certainly were in need of help, as
the blind lame, wounded, fever stricken, lepers and skin diseases came.
Secondly, I was convinced that these people were in need of a thorough
cleansing from top to toe as I had never seen human beings so completely
encrusted with a covering of dirt. In the third place, I was convinced that
the soap I brought would come in handy and, more so, as I was told that
they never wash themselves or their children.59

On 28 December 1903, Dr East, this time with his new bride

Emily Johnson, returned to Haka with a strong conviction ‘to
break down the influence of the priests and the witch doctor’.60
He started giving treatments to sick persons, distributing drugs
to villages and at the same time preaching the gospel. In 1904
alone, treatments were given to 4,000 patients. Dispensaries were
opened up in important villages. Medicines were stored in schools
where teachers, who had been trained to give treatment on certain
common diseases, also performed basic treatment to patients. The
most common diseases were malaria, rheumatism, toothache, goi­
tre, fever, eye trouble, etc.
Since it became quite expensive and difficult for the medical
doctors to make a tour of the villages it was proposed that the sick
persons should also be brought to the Haka Hospital for treatment.
 Christianity vs Indigeneity 463

The Emily Tyzzer Memorial Hospital at Haka was established in

1907. The hospital, however, did not really serve the purpose as
was believed. The report of 1909 revealed that only 21 inpatients
had been registered at the hospital that year whereas there were
more than 5,000 new patients on record. ‘The reason for so few
have availed themselves of the hospital accommodation,’ wrote Dr
East, ‘is due to the fact that it is looked upon as a calamity to be
away from the hearthstone in case that death should come while
away. To be happy after death a Chin must die in his home and by
his fireside.’61 Besides, the people were ‘prejudiced against a man
who claims to be a medicine chief and cannot cure all his chronic
troubles with a pill or by rubbing something on two or three times’.
But a time came when they lost all hopes in their traditional meth­
ods. ‘They come to us as a last resort,’ lamented East, ‘when hope,
means and strength are absolutely gone.’62
Education also played significant role in evangelism. The first
school was introduced by Carson at Haka in June 1900, which was
later closed down because of strong opposition from a Burman
sergeant of the military police.63 It was, however, reopened on 21
March 1902 after the arrival of Dr Erik Hjalmar East, a medical
doctor, and Saya Shwe Zan, another Karen preacher and teacher.
That same year, a second school was opened at Tedim, with one
Po Ku as the teacher, followed by the third school at Khuasak in
the Tedim Subdivision on 31 March 1904. It was at Khuasak vil­
lage, which Dr East described as ‘one of the most godless places
on the earth’,64 that wonderfully the first converts—Thuam Hang
and his wife Dim Khaw Cing, and Pau Suan and his wife Kham
Ciang—were gained. On hearing this wonderful news, Dr E.H.
East, who later baptized them,65 jubilantly exclaimed: ‘Truly, when
this letter came from Schwe Zan, Mrs East and I laughed and cried
and shouted: “the King of Glory had surely made His entrance into
the Chin Hills. The bells of heaven were ringing as the Shepherd
brought home the lost sheep.” It was too wonderful!’66
Strongly boosted by the permission given by the Kamhau
chief, Hau Cin Khup of Tonzang, a school was started there in
1904. The chief also gave permission to build a schoolhouse and a
teacher’s house. Po Ku, the Karen teacher, started the school with
464 Pum Khan Pau

two students, namely, Son Vung and Hen Za Kam from Tuitum
village. These two students later became the first Christians from
Tonzang area. They were baptized by Dr East on 27 February 1906,
in the presence of chief Hau Cin Khup and all the villagers.67 The
same year, another school was started at Zokhua with Saya Ma Kya
as teacher. Thus, by 1905, there were altogether four schools with
an attendance of 132 pupils.68 The small number of attendance also
shows that there was an economic disadvantage in sending chil­
dren to schools, because the parents then lost their service in aid
of their family.
In the early stages of its growth there were no girls enrolled
in the school. In fact, Zo people saw no value in the education of
women. According to them, girls had to work in the fields and in
the home and so could not be spared. Educating a girl was non­
productive, for they thought girls would only get married, have
a family, and be occupied in agricultural and domestic chores.
Besides, they believed educated girls would not be properly sub­
missive to their husbands. Knowing this, Laura Carson devoted
her considerable energies to getting hold of the girls:
My plan (she wrote) is to attract them at first by starting a sewing class
and telling the girls that as soon as one is able to cut out and make a jacket
neatly she shall have it. While teaching them to sew I hope to be able to
teach them a good many other things and to get them interested in learn­
ing to read and so to open up a new world to them.69
Laura Carson succeeded in getting the girls in her sewing
classes. Mah Seh, a woman teacher, was brought up at Haka. There
was, however, only one girl student in 1906.
When the Baptist Mission Burma in Boston reorganized the
Chin Mission into the northern and southern regions on 1 Octo­
ber 1909, a second station was established at Tedim and John
Herbert Cope, who had arrived at Haka a year earlier, was placed
in charge of it. Unlike in Haka70 there was considerable opposition
by the chiefs to schools in Falam. What the chief of Seipi village
told the superintendent and Dr East at a conference in June 1909
explains why: ‘Chong In Kadu Vantsung Jesu Kan dulo. Ar le vock
Kan tshoi lo a stshun Kan thi lai, she ranga Jesu thorng Kan duh
 Christianity vs Indigeneity 465

la (School I want, the Heavenly Jesus I don’t want. If we do not

sacrifice chickens and pigs we die, therefore, I don’t want the Jesus
custom).’71 Evidently, the chief wanted education without Christi­
anity to which the missionaries could not agree. Dr East thus told
the superintendent that ‘we would not for a moment consider any
school without religious teaching, and that our prime object was
and is to spread the gospel, and while doing so, we are willing to
educate the people also’. The superintendent remained unmoved.72
The school at Laizo and Lumbang were accordingly closed. Disap­
pointed with the government attitude, Dr East wrote:
The whole thing goes to show that even here, among wild tribes, the pow­
ers that be representing a (sic) Christian missionaries are not always as
they should be; but on the contrary try to block their work wherever pos­
sible by veiled diplomatic tricks, for such I am sure this was. But we have
no right to blame the British government, as in the far-flung provinces
it usually depends upon some unfriendly sub-officials who must elevate
himself by hindering such as are willing to rescue the perishing and care
for the dying.73

When Dr East left the Chin Hills on 17 October 1910 for

failure of his health, there were five primary schools with 231 stu­
dents, including 20 girls.74 The medium of instruction at that time
was Burmese.
In 1911, there were six primary schools of which two were
registered with the government, namely, the Khuasak (1 January
1911) and Haka schools. However, there was a sharp decline in
their numbers. In 1912, only two schools remained functioning.
The number of students dropped from 180 in 1911 to a mere 60
in 1912. It is possible that the four unregistered night schools
ceased to function; one of the causes of the decline was certainly
the opposition of Chief Hau Cin Khup who gave permission for
the school but became nervous with the growth of Christianity in
his tract. He was uncompromising towards Christians and even
ordered Po Ku, the teacher, out of the village. He also dismantled
the Tonzang school, which eventually ceased to exist.75
The functioning of the schools was again interrupted by
the Haka uprising of 191776 that resulted in the closure of a few
466 Pum Khan Pau

schools. But these reopened again after its suppression and in 1920
there were six primary schools with 175 students and 11 teach­
ers.77 In 1922 the Haka school was upgraded to middle school
(seventh standard) and the following year the Khuasak school was
also raised to secondary standard.78 In 1935 the statistics of the
educational schools show that there remained only three primary
schools with the missions having 75 pupils.79 The fall in the num­
ber this time was due mainly to the government’s absorption of
the schools.
It was nearly after a decade of the first mission school that the
British government took some interest in education. The first gov­
ernment primary school was established at Falam in 1908. In the
month of January in the following year the government sanctioned
an allowance of Rs. 2 per month for each student. The government,
too, started providing pupils with meals, which had long been the
demand of the Zos. This remarkably improved the attendance.80
On 25 June 1909, a government vernacular school was opened
at Tedim.81 In 1913, a boarding school was introduced in Tedim.
The opening of government schools adversely affected the mis­
sion schools and Dr East lamented that this totally wiped out
the ‘golden opportunity’ for the missionaries.82 There was much
rivalry and little cooperation between the government and the
missions in the early years of Dr East’s period. While the missions
employed Christian Karen83 teachers who strictly followed their
policy to inculcate Christian faith through teaching and preach­
ing, Buddhist Burmans and Hindu or Muslim Indians who were
in the service of the government also became a stumbling block to
the progress of education. Even, as Dr East remarked: ‘A certain
Roman Catholic government official did all he could secretly to
undercut the mission program, while feigning friendship on the
surface.’84 Matters improved under Revd John Herbert Cope who
began to work in collaboration with the government. He estab­
lished personal friendship with the officials at all levels including
Burmese and Indian. After 1921 the government began to take a
keener interest in the education provided by the mission. The atti­
tude of the chiefs and headmen too gradually changed and they
became, after many of them were converted, helpful to the mission.
 Christianity vs Indigeneity 467

In June 1921, Colonel L.E.L. Burne, the superintendent and

the Battalion Commander, held a meeting at Falam to discuss the
merits of change of the medium of instruction in the schools. It
was attended by Herbert Cope, and the assistant superintendents.
Burne reported the view of the conference:
The opinion of the majority was that the present system of education was
not the best suited to the needs of the people of these hills, and that Chins
should replace Burmese as the medium of instruction. Burmese would
not be abolished altogether, except in the village schools, but would be
taken as a second language.
The technical school at Falam continues to impart instruction in
carpentry and masonry, and the question of extending the subjects to be
taught is receiving attention.85

Writing to his friends Cope also said:

I am very glad that the present officers are advocating the education
of the Chins in their own language. Now we are educating the Chins
through Burmese. This month we all held a conference on the question.
Most of the political officers are in favour of the change. The new idea
is to produce textbooks in Chin, erect a school house in every village of
considerable size, place a teacher there who will teach the boys and girls
to read in their own language and, through that, other subjects to the
fourth year. In the meantime, Burmese will still be taught at the stations
(that is, in Tiddim, Falam, and Haka). In the mission schools all the chil­
dren are now taught to read little Chin, enough so that they can sing and
read the few portions of the Bible which have been translated.86

The meeting resulted in the change of the medium from Bur­

mese to the Zo language at the primary level. The use of Burmese
was, however, continued in the higher grades in the schools at
Tedim, Falam, and Haka. The following year, another conference,
held at Maymyo, recommended the use of Laizo or the Falam dia­
lect, and English and Burmese to be the second language. As there
was no consensus on orthography, a sub-committee, one of the
members being Cope, was formed, which also could produce no
agreement.87 The Maymyo recommendation did not prove satis­
factory as the Laizo dialect was not popular in the Tedim area.
Accordingly, Colonel Burne asked Cope in 1924 to prepare text
468 Pum Khan Pau

books in two languages—one in Kamhau-Sukte for Tedim and the

other in Laizo for Falam and Haka. Cope was elated for reasons
he had enumerated to the field secretary of the Baptist Mission in
Rangoon:
We have the opportunity of a lifetime here in the Hills and want to take
advantage of it. It means also an advance in our work even if there were
no more missionaries or helpers. At first the large majority of teachers in
the Haka and Falam subdivisions will be Christians and everyone will be
an evangelist. It means also that one language will slowly come to domi­
nate the lower two-thirds of the Hills and one in the Tiddim subdivision,
thus doing away with the most exasperating obstacle to the progress of
work here in this field. It will mean more so solidarity in the work and in
the people.88
The relationship between the government and the missions
had now become healthier and a new policy of streamlining
education was set in place. In May 1924, Cope was offered and
accepted the post of honorary inspector of schools by which all
schools came under his control. This meant that the mission
schools also came under the government. The Burmese script
and language was dropped altogether and replaced by the Roman
alphabet and vernacular language. Cope was commissioned to
write textbooks from primary to the fourth standard in local dia­
lects on all subjects taught in the schools for three subdivisions of
Falam, Haka and Tedim. He ultimately wrote 35 textbooks and
readers in six different Zo dialects, on different subjects such as
geography, hygiene, nature study, history and arithmetic. What
Cope achieved in practical terms was the reduction of over forty
dialects into three lingua franca namely: Tedim, Falam and Haka.89
Government subsidies to mission schools ceased in 1925.90 Till
the year 1924 mission schools all over the Chin Hills received Rs.
833 from the government and Rs. 455 from local contributions.91
The changeover from Burmese to Zo language as the medium
of instruction transformed the schools into Anglo-Vernacular
Middle Schools up to the seventh standard, which appeared more
attractive to the boys and girls. Meanwhile, for Gurkhas, Chinese,
Burmese and Indian children who could not understand the
vernacular, a non-Zo school was established in the cantonment
 Christianity vs Indigeneity 469

area of Falam. Subsequently, in 1935, the first high school with

eighth standard was started in Falam. It was a result of the persis­
tent efforts made by three students from Tedim, viz., Song Pau of
Tedim, Neng Za Gin of Phunom, and S.T. Hau Go of Lailui. The
Falam high school became the basis, as Hau Go noted, for forging
the unity of the Zo people of Haka, Falam and Tedim in spirit,
language and other nation-building activities.92
Since the American missionaries were not able to visit every
village, their work was extended by the Karen Christian teachers.
Gradually, educated Zo people completed the work of evangeliza­
tion. Those who became Christian and were trained and educated
were employed in the ministries. Statistics show that numbers of
organized Churches soared up from 12 in 1924 to 60 in 1937 in
the Haka, Falam and Tedim areas.93 After the incorporation of
Pakokku Hill Tracts into Chin Hills in 1930, villages in the south
including Matu, Khrum and Kanpetlet had been visited by north­
ern missionaries. In the Kanpetlet subdivision there were three
government schools, all teaching in Burmese. Curiously there was
one Christian in the whole Kanpetlet area.94

Digging Deeper: Problems and Prospects of

Laipianism and Christianity
In spite of missionaries’ undaunted efforts to propagate Christianity
among the Zo people by employing education and medical
activities, a survey of the development of both Laipianism and
Christianity during the first half of the twentieth century points to
the former having secured better success than the latter. Statistic
shows that there were only 1900 Christian converts in 1931,95
which was a mere 5.3 per cent of Laipianism (35,700 followers).
The reasons for such wide imbalance may be varied.
One of the most important reasons was the cultural adapt­
ability of Laipianism in which evangelical work has no advantage.
Robert Johnson, who was the last American Baptist missionary
to have served in the Chin Hills (1946-66), admitted that Pau Cin
Hau’s reforms were an improvement over the old animistic cus­
toms.96 Similarly, a Zo scholar, who categorized Pau Cin Hau, as a
470 Pum Khan Pau

traditional intellectual, holds that Laipianism was steeped into the

rural social milieu and defends the core Zo traditional values by
providing an alternative to Christianity.97 Though it is not clearly
known that Laipianism was intended to defend Zo culture from
the assimilation of Christianity, one thing is certain that the people
seemed more inclined to accept a religion which could go along
with their culture and tradition at that stage. At any rate the Zo
people greatly value and respect their traditional practices; but
they were strongly against any cultural intrusion.
One the other hand, the Zo people considered Christianity as
a foreign religion since the Whites first brought to them. It was
suspiciously looked upon as the White’s religion. In addition, mis­
sionary teachings—that discouraged the customs of drinking of
zu (beer), making animal sacrifices and the like—undermined Zo
tradition. And, more importantly, the failure to induce the chiefs
and headmen to accepting Christianity, on whom the entire Zo
society greatly depended, remained a stumbling block to evangeli­
cal activities. At first, the chiefs and headmen felt that education
and Christianity unloosed the people from the burden of slavery
and other compulsory traditional dues. Christianity, they believed,
acts as a liberating force, which severely curtailed their author­
ity both morally and materially. It was due these reasons that the
chiefs and headmen had been obstinately opposed to evangelism
in the early stage.
Educational and medical activities, in spite of early implemen­
tation, did not effectively draw the attention of the people toward
Christianity, during the first few decades. Early respondents
through these were quite negligible. One reason behind the slow
growth was that only small numbers of male students attended the
mission schools while girls were discouraged by the parents. In
fact, parents saw no value in the education of women.98 Another
hurdle came from the chiefs and headmen. Max Vai Pum thus
observed:
Unfortunately things did not turn up so, for formal education at the onset
did not seize the fancy of the people and the state schools were abomina­
tions to the arrogant Chin chieftains. To them this education business was
 Christianity vs Indigeneity 471

nothing less than a form of coercion, a virtual seduction towards change

of religion, culture and tribal customs. The chiefs especially feared the
prospect of losing their customary tributes.99

The pace of growth of education was thus decelerated by all

these reasons. After two decades of work there were only 295 stu­
dents in 1924.100
Medical work neither fared better. Dr Woodin, who was a
mission doctor in the Chin Hills from 1911 to 1915, was greatly
disappointed by the sullen attitude of the people and their response,
as he reported in his letter to the Board in 1914, was:
The medical work continues the same as before… the few cases in the hos­
pital has been unsatisfactory, most of them have been forcibly removed at
critical time to be taken to their villages for sacrifice. I consider the eleven
hundred rupees expended for medical work worse than wasted.101

The trend did not remain unchanged. The second half of

the twentieth century ushered in a great upsurge in evangelical
activities. The reasons are many. Like the Pau Cin Hau movement,
Christian teachings also managed to penetrate into the hardcore
section of the society. This was mainly because of the persistent
efforts of the missionaries; Karen teachers and Zo converts, on the
one hand, and conversion of the chiefs and headmen, who had
earlier strongly opposed education and modern medical treat­
ments, on the other. Unlike before, medical activities worked
effectively here. Even the chiefs and headmen were compelled to
approach the mission doctors, as mentioned above, when they lost
all hope in their witch doctors and traditional sacrifices, although
often as a last resort. Gradually, people who had been cured from
their physical illness by the treatment of mission doctors naturally
discarded their traditional practices and turned to Christianity.
Christianity was thus no longer seen as a destructive force but
rather as an alternative source of health and power. The conver­
sion of those higher strata of the society was largely responsible for
the easy access of Christian faith among the commoners, who too,
indeed, responded positively though steadily.
Language and literature did play a pro-active role in the spread
472 Pum Khan Pau

of Christianity. Better education gave better knowledge of the

Almighty God. The Romanized local alphabet introduced by John
Herbert Cope in the early part of the nineteenth century gave a
new impetus to the development of Christianity. The Zo people
were devoid of any existing script except the one invented by Pau
Cin Hau, which was still at a preliminary stage. So the introduction
of a Romanized script by the early missionaries seemed to have
overshadowed the indigenously invented one. The new alphabet,
in Kamhau dialect, was so easy that it took only seven days to learn.
It became popularly known as Ni Sagih Lai (Seven Days Script).
The introduction of vernacular language in government schools in
1925 and emergence of vernacular textbooks not only gave a big
boost to the growth of education but also remarkably contributed
to the work of evangelism. This was strongly supported by the fact
that early Zo converts were being gained mainly from the school.
Similarly, the formation of the Chin Hills Baptist Association,
an apex church organization, in 1907, was no less significant. This
parent body was soon followed by the establishment of regional
associations such as Tedim Association, Falam Association, Haka
Association and Matu-Kanpetlet Association and eventually the
Zomi Baptist Convention in 1954. These associations not only
firmly cemented Christianity in Chin Hills on a solid basis but also
effectively carried forward the gospel even after the foreign mis­
sionaries had left. A well-established foundation laid by the early
Christians, therefore, greatly enhanced the work of evangelism.
The colonial and Christian missions’ combined efforts to
spread education, besides many other factors, reversed the trend
of religious conversion—for most of Pau Cin Hau followers and
those who had earlier taken a strong hold of the traditional belief
now turned to Christianity. The pawlpi (collective followers) of
Pau Cin Hau being the main foundation of the indigenous move­
ment lost its firm footing as it had been shaken by whirlwind
change brought about by evangelical activities. Consequently,
many of the followers of Pau Cin Hau began to accept Christianity
in the middle of the twentieth century. Laipianism dwindled while
Christianity grew. Today, only a very small number of adherents to
Laipianism are found among the Zo people.
 Christianity vs Indigeneity 473

Conclusion
The foregoing discussion unravels three important things that
brought significant changes in Chin Hills: Colonialism, the Pau
Cin Hau movement and Christianity. In Africa there is a common
saying—‘One white man gets you on your knees in prayer, while
the other steals your land.’102 The same is true in the context of
the Zo people. Chin Hills was first brought under colonial rule,
which was soon to be followed by religious movements, alien or
indigenous. The former subjugated the people whom the latter two
seemed to have, perhaps, ‘pacified’ with their new socio-religious
reforms. Colonialism heavily checked and forcibly put under
control all sorts of inhuman practices—raiding, head hunting,
slavery and the like. It remodelled chieftainship, the traditional
mode of administration, to suit the law of the colonizer, though with
the least intervention in tribal polity. The land and the people had
been, to a great extent, tranquilized—roads and communications
established, trade and markets encouraged and money economy
replacing the barter system. However, one thing that colonialism
was incapable of doing was to change the beliefs and practices of
the people in toto. To crack the hard shell of animism-based society
remained the most challenging task confronting the Pau Cin Hau
movement and Christian missions in the early twentieth century.
To secure religious conversions amid such hostile traditional
beliefs and practices, proponents of these new movements sought,
as they did, a suitable area where they would cast their net.
In the light of the above discussion, though it is not the inten­
tion here to draw a conclusive assessment, Christian missions and
the Pau Cin Hau movement appeared to have successfully man­
aged to bring changes in Zo society and culture. Never had there
been a slightest hint of any mutual cooperation between the two;
nevertheless, the success of one largely depend on the other and
vice versa.
However, in spite of such mutual dependence, there was no
sign of contest: Laipianism never appeared as a serious contender
against evangelical activities with regard to the whole process
of religious conversions in Chin Hills, though it did cause some
474 Pum Khan Pau

trouble to missionary activities in the initial years. Yet, it is difficult

to merely subscribe to the views forwarded by Robert G. Johnson,
who strongly argued that Laipianism has not had a lasting impact
on the Baptist churches.103 Pau Cin Hau’s dominance itself became
a boon to evangelical activities in the long run. It helped to crumble
first the hardest portion of the Zo society through its conformist
approach, which was strongly in contrast with Christian faith, and
prepared a congenial soil on which Christianity sowed its seed and
grew. Early missionaries such as Dr East and John Herbert Cope
also believed that ‘Pau Cin Hau’s emphasis on one God and its
rejection of belief in and sacrifice to the evil spirits would help
break down barriers to the Chin’s acceptance of Christianity’. Pau
Cin Hau had also employed such practices as prayer for the sick,
construction of Sangbuk (church), celebration of drinking tuisiang,
praying and casting out demons in the name of god, maintaining
membership record and so on. It was believed that some of these
inputs might have been an outcome of his meeting with Christians
at Champhai and Kawlkulh in neighbouring Lushai Hills where he
attended annual conferences of the Salvation Army in 1905 and
1906, respectively.104
Pau Cin Hau’s strong emphasis on the macrocosm, a belief
already prevalent among the Zo people, was also very rewarding.
Laipianism should, therefore, be seen as having existed rather
in symbiosis with Christianity and not as a contender. A recent
study contended: ‘Pau Cin Hau was used by the Almighty God
to prepare for minds and the hearts of Zomi for the coming of
the gospel.’105 The pioneering role of Laipianism was, however,
strongly contested by Johnson:
If Pau Cin Hau religion was indeed a stepping stone to Chris­
tianity, one would expect that the Tiddim area would have proven
the most responsive of all the areas to Christianity. But, not so. It
is Haka and Thantlang in the centre of the Chin Hills, then Falam,
and lastly the Tiddim area (excluding for the moment the recently
evangelized areas farther south) which have now the most Chris­
tian believers.
At any rate Zo people’s conversion to Christianity was not
of a sudden happening. Unlike Pau Cin Hau and his followers,
 Christianity vs Indigeneity 475

missionaries were strangers rather, who tried to introduce beliefs

and practices alien to the local one. Thus, wrote Erik Cohen: ‘Con­
version of the natives was expected to involve a total religious and
cosmological reorientation related to Westernisation.’106 This does
not imply that Christianity was ‘part of a White man’s package of
civilisation’.107 It does mean reorienting or rather conforming Zo
cosmology in accordance with Christian cosmology. This would
have not been achieved had not colonialism and Laipianism done
the pioneering work, though inadvertently. As a result, Christian­
ity became deeply rooted among the Zo people by the time colonial
rulers had left the country in 1948. To sum up the discussion, it
is apt to mention what Khup Za Go has rightly said: ‘While the
people lived such a hard and hazardous life filled with fear of war
and of evil spirits, there appear in Chinland during the last decade
of the nineteenth century three important movements namely,
Pau Cin Hau, British and Christian, of which the first two became
the forerunners of the last’.108 The net results of dual religious con­
versions—from animism to Laipianism, and from Laipianism to
Christianity—was thus the transformation of Zo social, economic,
cultural and religious lives, and the emergence of a common iden­
tity under the banner of Christianity.

Notes
1. Lal Dena, Christian Missions and Colonialism: A Study of Missionary
Movement in North East India with Particular Reference to Manipur
and Lushai Hills 1894-1947, Verdrame Institute, Shillong, 1988,
p. 12.
2. J.S. Furnivall, Colonial Policy and Practice: A Comparative Study of
Burma and Netherlands India, New York University Press, New York,
1956, p. 8.
3. Robert W. Strayer, The Making of Mission Communities in East
Africa: Anglicans and Africans in Colonial Kenya, 1875-1935, State
University of New York Press, Albany, 1978, p. 2.
4. Mark R. Woodward, ‘Gift for the Sky People: Animal Sacrifice,
Head-hunting and Power among the Naga of Burma and Assam’,
in Harvey, Graham (ed.), Indigenous Religions: A Companion,
London: Continuum, 2000, quoted in Ranger, Terence, ‘Christianity
476 Pum Khan Pau

and Indigenous Peoples: A Personal Overview’, Journal of Religious

History, vol. 27, no. 3, October 2003, p. 264.
5. Dena, p. 13.
6. Vumson, Zo History, Aizawl (n.d.), Sing Khaw Khai, Zo People
and Their Culture, Churachandpur, 1995; Khup Za Go, A Critical
Historical Study of Bible Ttranslations among the Zo People in North
East India, Churachandpur, Manipur, 1996, and Zo Minam Tawh
Kisai Thu (Issues facing Zo community today), Zo Research and
Communication Centre, New Delhi, 2001.
7. W.G. Hynes, ‘Communications: British Mercantile Attitudes
Towards Imperial Expansion’, in: Historical Journal, vol. 19, no. 4,
1976, p. 972. Hynes further said: ‘There were several reasons for this
changed outlook. Although it is difficult to fix changes in opinion
precisely in time, it was clear by the mid-1880s that not even the
most enthusiastic free traders believed Europe was about to enter
an era of unlimited free trade. For the principal British Chambers
of Commerce, the failure of the Anglo-French commercial treaty
negotiations in 1881 was probably decisive in casting doubts on the
future of free trade on the Continent. At the same time as British
exporters began to encounter increasing difficulties in penetrating
European markets, they faced greater European competition abroad,
in some areas of the world for the first time.’
8. Hynes, p. 973. ‘Parallel with this growing interest in discovering
new markets in the mid-1880s,’ argued Hynes, ‘there went an
increased demand for government assistance to foreign trade. The
prevailing economic depression and the assistance given by foreign
governments to their merchants and industrialists made it seem
less likely that individual enterprise in Britain would receive its just
reward without the help of governments…thus the overseas trade
was almost the only sphere where a state directed anti-cyclical policy
could operate.’
9. D.P. Singhal, British Diplomacy and the Annexation of Upper Burma,
South Asian Publishers, New Delhi, 1981, pp. 89-93.
10. Sir Charles Crosthwaite, The Pacification of Burma, London 1912,
pp. 288-9.
11. For a fuller discussion, see Pum Khan Pau, ‘The Chins and the
British, 1835-1935’, PhD thesis, Department of History, North-
Eastern Hill University, Shillong, 2007.
12. Memorandum submitted to President Bill Clinton of America by
leaders of the Zo Re-unification Organization (ZORO), General
Headquarters, Aizawl, 1993.
 Christianity vs Indigeneity 477

13. For a detailed analysis of the Chin-Lushai Conference, 1892, see

Pum Khan Pau, ‘Administrative Rivalries on a Frontier: Problem of
the Chin-Lushai Hills’, Indian Historical Review, vol. XXXIV, no. 1
(January 2007), pp. 187-209.
14. Quoted in Encyclopaedia Britannica (Macropaedia), 15: 629.
15. Rev. Sangermano, A Description of the Burmese Empire, translated by
William Tandy, DD, Reprint Rangoon 1893, p. 35.
16. B.S. Carey and H.N. Tuck, The Chin Hills: A History of the People, Our
Dealings with Them, Their Customs and Manners, and a Gazetteer of
their Country, Rangoon Government Printing Press 1896, Reprint
Aizawl 1932, vol. 1, p. 3.
17. G.H. Luce, ‘Chin Hills Linguistic Tour (Dec.1954) University Project’,
Journal of Burma Research Society, vol. XLII, no. 1 June 1959, p. 26.
A recent scholar F.K. Lehman’s The Structure of Chin Society suggests
that the word actually means a ‘basket’ in Burmese.
18. Cited in Vum Ko Hau, Profile of A Burma Frontier Man, Bandung
1963, p. 312.
19. Taw Sein Ko, ‘The Chin and the Kachin tribes on the borderland
of Burma’, Asian Review, Serie 2, vol. V (January-April, 1893), The
Oriental University Institute, Leichtenstein, 1968, p. 289.
20. Grant Brown, Burma Gazetteer, Upper Burma, cited in Sing Khaw
Khai’s Zo People and their Culture, Churachandpur, 1995, p. 67, wrote
that ‘The sound formerly written Hky or Kh, but now, pronounces
as Ch retains something of its old pronunciation’. Today, Burmese
currency ‘Kyat’ is ‘Chyat’, and the leader of the National League for
Democracy Aung San Syu Kyi as Aung San Syu Chi.
21. One of the earliest mentions is said to be found in Fan Ch’o’s book
the Man-shu in 835 ad, who wrote about the Mino-chiang people
who called their princes and chiefs shou. The Mino-chiang are
identified with the people of Chindwin. Gordon Luce, in this regard,
suggests that before the coming of the Mranma (Burman) in the
ninth century, the three chief powers in Burma were the Chins (and
Sak) in upper Burma, the Tircul (or Pyu) in central Burma, and Mi­
ch’en (perhaps old Pegu) in lower Burma. He further says that when
the Mranma descended to the plains of central Burma in the ninth
century, there had already settled the Mon, Palaung, Wa, Karen,
Thet, Kadu Chin etc. G.H. Luce, Phases of Pre-Pagan Burma, vol. II,
London 1985, pp. 78-80; For a concise account of early Burma based
on recent studies, see Tarling, Nicholas, The Cambridge History of
South East Asia, vol. I, From Early Times to c. 1800, Cambridge 1992,
pp. 164-8, 240, and passim.
478 Pum Khan Pau

22. Thomas Herbert Lewin, Progressive Colloquial Exercises in the Lushai

Dialect of the ‘Dzo’ or Kuki Language, with Vocabularies and Popular
Tales (Notated), Calcutta 1874, p. 1; Lewin further added: ‘The term
Kuki is a generic name applied by the inhabitants of the plains,
Bengallees and others, to all hill-dwellers who cultivate by jhum.
The word Kuki is foreign to the different dialects of the hill tribes,
the nearest approach to it being the “Dzo” term for the Tipra tribes
which is called by them Tui-Kuk.’ See also his A Fly on the Wheel,
or How I Helped to Govern India, Calcutta, 1885, reprinted Aizawl,
2005.
23. National Archive of India, Foreign Political – A Proceeding,
December 1892, nos. 42-6; Our Relations with the Eastern Lushais
prior to the Rising on 1 March 1892, in which he says, ‘The Lushais
call themselves Mizo or Mizau’, and lists seventeen ‘castes’, which
include ‘Ralte Molbem, Khuangli, Paithe, Taute, Jahau (Yahow),
Dulien, Lakher, Fanai (Molienpui) Poi, Dalang, Tangur, Sukte, Mar,
Falam (Tashons), Paukhup, Liellul’.
24. G.A. Grierson, Linguistic Survey of India, vol. III, pt. III, Calcutta
1904, p. 1.
25. Cin Do Kham, ‘The Untold Story: The Impact of Revival Among the
Chin People in Myanmar (Burma)’, Journal of Asian Mission, vol. 1,
no. 2, Philippines, 1999, p. 207.
26. Sing Khaw Khai, op. cit., p. 159.
27. Vumson, op. cit., p. 16.
28. Similar discussion on Nagas’ cosmology may be referred to as Eaton,
Richard M., ‘Conversion to Christianity among the Nagas, 1876­
1971’, The Indian Economic and Social History Review, vol. XXI, no. 1
(January-March 1984), Sage, New Delhi.
29. T.H. Lewin, Wild Races of South-Eastern India, London 1870, reprint
Aizawl, 1978, pp. 126-7.
30. Carey and Tuck, op. cit., pp. 195-6.
31. Quoted in J.M. Ngul Khan Pau, ‘When the World of Zomis Changed,’
D.Miss dissertation, Western Conservative Baptist Seminary,
Portland, Oregon, 1995, p. 57.
32. Lieutenant T.A. Trant, ‘Notice of the Khyen Tribe Inhabiting the
Yuma Mountains between Ava And Aracan’, Journal of the Asiatic
Society, vol. XVI, 1828, in Asiatic Researches, vol. 16, reprint, New
Delhi, 1980, p. 264.
33. H.N.C. Stevenson, The Economics of the Central Chin Tribes, Tribal
Research Institute, Aizawl, 1986, p. 157.
 Christianity vs Indigeneity 479

34. Sing Khaw Khai, op. cit., p. 162

35. F.K. Lehman, The Structure of Chin Society, University of Illinois,
USA, 1963, Reprinted Aizawl, 1980, pp. 178-9.
36. S. Ngin Suanh, ‘A Brief History of Pau Cin Hau and his Religion’,
Tedim BEHS No.1 Diamond Jubilee Commemorative Magazine
(1948-1998), p. 581.
37. Robert G. Johnson, History of the American Baptist Chin Mission,
vol. 1, Valley Forge, USA, 1998, p. 393.
38. Suanh, loc. cit.
39. E. Pendleton Banks, ‘Pau Cin Hau: A Case of Religious Innovations
among the Northern Chins’, in C.L. Riley, and W.W. Taylor (ed.),
American Historical Anthropology: Essays in Honour of Leslie Spier,
London/Amsterdam: Feffer & Simons, 1967, p. 39. Banks further
said: ‘The inn ka is a sort of verandah that all Chin houses have.
Made of planks and jutting out over a hillside, it is the centre of
family activity and the location of the status feasts which play an
important part in Chin life. A man’s status is symbolized by the size
of his inn ka and by the location of his seat when visiting another inn
ka. Khua Cin’s inn ka was very large, made with extra wide planks—
“the width of a za bo,” or extended hand breath—and located where
the modern football field is.’
40. Carey and Tuck, op. cit., p. 126. Also see Dorothy Woodman, The
Making of Burma, London, 1962 and Pum Khan Pau, ‘The Chins and
the British, 1835-1935’, PhD thesis, Department of History, North-
Eastern Hill University, Shillong, 2006.
41. J.J. Bennison, ‘Pau Cin Hau Movement’, in Census of India 1931,
vol. XI, Burma Part I Report, p. 217.
42. Ibid.
43. In the New Testament of the Bible St John received revelation from
God in the Isles of Patmos (Revelation 1:9). Similarly, Pau Cin Hau’s
teachings were based on what he had received in his vision at Lailui
village.
44. Bennison, op. cit., p. 194.
45. Zu is a fermented rice beer commonly drunk by the Zo people. It
was a very important part of their life, especially during festivals and
on any special occasion.
46. Bennison, loc. cit..
47. Dena, op. cit., p. 87
48. The Palik or ‘Pa-leik-thas’ (policemen) were also known as
Khutdompa (men who feel the pulse). The Palik wore red head dress,
480 Pum Khan Pau

because it is believed that as all bad characters are said to shun the
police, so also all evil spirits will shun the sick person as long as the
Palik is present in his red head dress. They were numbered from
three to six per village. The Paliks were offered Zu as a form of fee.
49. Bennison, op. cit., p. 218. Also see Banks, op. cit., p. 44.
50. Ibid., p. 218.
51. Report on the Administration of the Chin Hills for the year ended 30
June 1912.
52. Stevenson, op. cit., p. 45.
53. J.M. Ngul Khan Pau, op. cit., p. 117.
54. Banks, op. cit., p. 55.
55. Bennison, op. cit., p. 218.
56. Stevenson, op. cit., p. 162.
57. Johnson, op. cit., p. 54.
58. Ibid., p. 58
59. E.H. East, Burma Manuscript, ed. C. Thang Za Tuan, Yangon,
Myanmar 1996, p. 49.
60. Ibid., p. 309.
61. Johnson, op. cit., p. 274.
62. Ibid., p. 273; Dr East thus wrote: ‘They often tell us, we have now
done all our customs teach us, and all that our witch doctors know.
We have sacrificed mythun, cows, pigs, goats, chickens, and dogs,
and still we are no better; now we are as fools, we know no more.
Now we come to you. You are like god. What can you do for us? We
will give you a rupee if you cure us.’
63. Ibid., pp. 64-5. The first school had one pupil. Saya San Win, a preacher
of the Karen tribe who accompanied Carson to Haka, served as the
first mission teacher. The school at its initial stage was opposed by a
Burman sergeant of the Military Police who was an ardent Buddhist.
In the Buddhist school he started, the sergeant told the parents ‘if
the boys would go to a Buddhist school or a government school they
would be given food and clothing free’. Consequently, many pulled
out their boys from the mission school when they did not get food
and clothes, forcing Carson to declare in June 1901: ‘We have no
school.’
64. East, op. cit., p. 601.
65. Laura Hardin Carson, Pioneer Trails, Trials and Triumphs, Calcutta
1927, Reprinted Aizawl, 1997, pp. 180-1. It was at Khuasak that the
first hill Chin Christian converts had been baptized.
66. East, op. cit., p. 601. The British Superintendent of Chin Hills
 Christianity vs Indigeneity 481

L.E.L. Burne in 1908 reported that when Rev. A.E. Carson died on
1 April 1908 there were already 55 Chin Christians, Report on the
Administration of the Chin Hills for the year 1907-08.
67. Johnson, op. cit., pp. 288-9.
68. Ibid., p. 66.
69. Ibid., p. 140.
70. See Shwe Zan’s letter date 25 July 1904 from Khuasak village to Dr
East quoted in Hardin, op. cit., pp. 180-1, in which he inter alia
says of the converts: ‘One man name’s Tum Harm (Thuam Hang);
he is chief among the three chiefs. Now he begin to believe Jesus.
This night he come up to me for praying God. Dear master, please
remember for Tum Harm in your prayer. O my dear master if you
arrive here this time, how you will be very glad for Christ. As to
school the people begin to build the school now. They got some post
to the school place; in a few days I think school will finish. Some
time I wrote about to stop school until the school (house) finish, and
you tell I must stop; but I think in my heart it is better to learn every
day so that I have school in my house.’
71. East, op. cit., p. 193.
72. East, loc. cit.; There was in fact, an agreement between Arthur Carson
and the government as to the opening of a school at Lumbang village.
73. Ibid., p. 194; A Chin leader Rev. Max Vai Pum in his work ‘The
Beginning of Formal Education in the Chin Hills’, Falam High School
Diamond Jubilee Magazine (1906-1981) also writes the attitude of
the Chins and chief thus: ‘Unfortunately things did not turn up
so, for formal education at the onset did not seize the fancy of the
people and the state schools were abominations to the arrogant Chin
chieftains. To them this education business was nothing less than
a form of coercion, a virtual seduction towards change of religion,
culture and tribal customs. The chiefs especially feared the prospect
of losing their customary tributes.’
74. Ibid., p. 279.
75. Johnson, op. cit., pp. 434-5; Herbert Cope thus wrote: ‘The Christian
does not sacrifice nor does he hold drunken feasts, whereupon,
according to the law of the land, they are excused from paying
the dues. This has stirred the chiefs to a high pitch of excitement.
They are demanding to know where all this will lead. Unless the
government comes to their rescue and makes new rules they will
soon be receiving little shilla. At the same time the heathen see what
the Christians are doing and they want to do likewise. Therefore,
482 Pum Khan Pau

wherever I go someone wants to know if they can stop this shilla

payment. The chiefs are contemplating raising a defence fund and
carrying the matter up to the Crown if necessary. It is a hindrance to
our work. With the chiefs feeling this way they try in every way to
keep people out of the Kingdom (of God).’
76. The uprising was a culmination of anti-colonial feeling which
had been developing unabated following annexation. For more
discussion, see Pum Khan Pau, ‘The “Haka Uprising” in the Chin
Hills, 1917-18’, Jangkhomang Guite and Thongkholal Haokip
(ed.), The Anglo-Kuki War, 1917-1919: A Frontier Uprising Against
Imperialism During World War I, London: Routledge, 2019.
77. Johnson, op. cit., p. 441.
78. Ibid., p. 459.
79. Ibid., p. 499.
80. L.E.L. Burne, Report on the Administration of the Chin Hills for the
Year 1908-09.
81. Ibid., ‘The buildings, which include a large class-room, quarters
for the teacher and a dormitory for the boys were erected entirely
at the expense of the Zos, who not only supplied all the necessary
materials, but employed Zo labour for the actual construction work.
There are now 50 pupils attending the school and about another 30
seeking admission which it is impossible to grant. The services of an
additional teacher are required.’
82. Johnson, op. cit., p. 287
83. Max Vai Pum, op. cit., Most prominent Karen teachers were San
Win in Haka, Po Ku in Tedim and Tonzang, Shwe Zan in Khuasak,
Ma Kya in Zokhua. These teachers were paid a monthly salary of 20
rupees by the British government and the American Baptist Mission
gave them a supplementary sum of 5 rupees per teacher per month.
84. Johnson, op. cit., p. 283.
85. Burne, Report on the Administration of the Chin Hills for the Year
1920-21.
86. Johnson, op. cit., p. 458.
87. Ibid., p. 459.
88. Ibid., p. 461; Cope’s letter to Wiatt, the Field Secretary to Rangoon,
24 April 1924.
89. Sukte T. Hau Go, ‘How Falam Got Her High School’, Falam High
School Diamond Jubilee Magazine (1906-1981), p. 66.
90. Johnson, op. cit., p. 496.
91. Ibid., p. 481.
 Christianity vs Indigeneity 483

92. Hau Go, op. cit., p. 67.

93. Johnson, pp. 479, 576-7.
94. Ibid., pp. 540-1.
95. Ibid., p. 536.
96. Ibid., p. 397.
97. David Vumlallian Zou, ‘Role of Intellectuals in Tribal Social
Formation’, in Zomi Christian International vol. 8, no. 1, Delhi,
p. 11.
98. According to them, girls had to work in the fields and in the home
and so could not be spared. Educating a girl was non-productive,
for they thought girls would only get married, have a family, and
be occupied in agricultural and domestic chores. Besides, they
considered educated girls would not be properly submissive to their
husbands.
99. Rev. Max Vai Pum, ‘The Beginning of Formal Education in the Chin
Hills’, Falam High School Diamond Jubilee Magazine (1906-1981).
100. Johnson, p. 481.
101. Ibid., p. 327.
102. F.B. Welbourn, ‘Missionary Stimulus and African Responses’,
in Victor Turner (ed.), Colonialism in Africa, 1870-1960, vol. 3,
Cambridge University Press, 1971, p. 310.
103. Johnson, op. cit., p. 401. Johnson argued: ‘Pau Cin Hau prophet
movement has not had a lasting impact on the Baptist churches of
the Chin Hills. Had it never existed, in all probability the history of
the expansion of Christianity in the Chin Hills would not have been
much different.’
104. J.M. Ngul Khan Pau, op. cit., p. 111.
105. Ibid., p. 117.
106. Erik Cohen, ‘The Missionary as Stranger: A Phenomenological
Analysis of Christian Missionaries’ Encounter with the Folk
Religions of Thailand’, Review of the Religious Research, vol. 31,
no. 4, 1990, p. 340.
107. Richard Gray, ‘Christianity, Colonialism, and Communications in
Sub-Saharan Africa’, in: Journal of Black Studies, vol. 13, no. 1, 1982,
p. 71.
108. Khup Za Go, Christianity in Chinland, Christian Literature Centre,
Guwahati, 1985, p. 15.
 CHAPTER 19

American Baptists in Colonial Assam

The Tale of Oscar Levi Swanson*

NABANIPA BHATTACHARJEE

Introduction
India is home to diverse religious groups, and among these, the
Christians constitute a small but significant demographic. The
roots of Christianity in India can be traced back to the year 52 ce
when St Thomas arrived on its western coast to preach the gospel.
Following the initiatives of the various Syrian churches and the
European (Portuguese, Danish, British, Welsh, Irish, and so forth)
missions, Christianity—Roman Catholic, Protestant and other
denominational forms—began to spread across India. This essay
offers the history of Christianity in the north-eastern frontier
of India. It maps the trajectory of the Christian initiatives and
subsequent dissemination of the faith in the region, particularly
Assam. Given that the American Baptists had an important
presence in Assam, the essay, by drawing mainly upon secondary
sources, describes, first, their history, and second, locates/
contextualizes the same with the aid of the writings—mainly the

* Parts of this essay were presented as papers in the international

seminar on Missionary Interventions in British North-East India,
organized by Assam University, Silchar, India and Queen’s University,
Belfast, Northern Ireland, on 18-19 March 2008, and in the international
symposium on Religious Pluralism in Global Perspective, University of
California, Santa Barbara, USA on 14-15 July 2011. I thank Sajal Nag and
also those who commented on the papers in Silchar and Santa Barbara.
486 Nabanipa Bhattacharjee

memoir—of a missionary called Oscar Levi Swanson (1867-1949)

who spent more than four decades in the province, running the
Golaghat mission, working in the tea gardens, and doing much
more. The north-eastern frontier witnessed very little, or rather,
no (recorded) missionary activity up until 1600. According to
Milton Sangma:
[t]he earliest recorded visit by the Christian missionaries to North-East
India was made in 1626 by two Jesuit missionaries, namely, Frs Stephen
Cacella and John Cabral, who were probably looking for a passage to
Tibet and China. They travelled as far as Pandu, a few miles west of G[au]
hati…. In his letter written from Bhutan dated the 4th October, 1627,
Casella [gave] an account of their visit to Goalpara and Kamrup in Assam
… [but] [did] not … mention any local Christian at that time.1

No evidence of Christian presence in the region was found for

the next 50 years. In 1682, the Chronicle of the Augustinian Friars of
Bandel noted that a 7,000 strong Christian community was settled
in Rangamati, a town in the Goalpara district of lower Assam.2 By
the end of the eighteenth century, around 1790, Roman Catholic
missionary activity had begun in a village called Bondashill in the
Cachar kingdom.
Nothing much came to be reported until the second decade
of the next century. However, with the passing of the Charter Act
in 1813, which officially ‘allowed foreign missionaries into Brit­
ish India’,3 missionary activity in general gathered momentum.
Though missionary interventions aided the imperial project of
expansion, yet the government’s ‘attitude[s] toward missionaries
[was] cautious and pragmatic’4; the missionaries, in their turn,
developed an ambivalent and complex relationship with the
empire and its agents.5 Anyhow, the activities of the famous Prot­
estant mission of Serampore, founded by William Carey in 1800,
continued, 1813 onwards, under the ‘patronage’ and heavy super­
vision of the imperial government.6 Krishna Chandra Pal, the first
Serampore convert, arrived in Sylhet—then a district of the Ben­
gal Presidency—in 1813 to preach among the local Khasi tribe.
In 1826, following the Treaty of Yandaboo, Assam came under
imperial rule. The provisions of the Charter Act applied to the
 American Baptists in Colonial Assam 487

region too, and therefore, paved the way for Christianity to enter
it and, in course of time, the larger northeastern frontier. In 1829,
the Serampore mission, following the request of David Scott, agent
to the Governor-General and Commissioner of Assam, started a
mission and a school in Gauhati. But the missionaries were unable
to make their presence felt there, for ‘up to 1836 only six individu­
als were baptized’.7 In 1834 the same mission was approached by
Francis Jenkins, the new agent to the governor-general, to begin
work among the Khamti and the Singpho tribes of Assam. In fact,
among others, it was believed that the ‘pacification of the Kham­
tis and the Singphos, who continued to disturb the tranquility of
the frontier, could be effectively done by the spread of the gospel’.8
The Serampore mission’s response, given its poor Gauhati perfor­
mance, was lukewarm, and that turned out to be an opportunity
for the American Baptists to set up their base in Assam in 1836. In
1837 the Serampore mission merged with the larger Baptist Mis­
sionary Society, and the agreement to hand over the Assam and
the Arakan (Myanmar) fields to the American Baptists, for the
continuation of missionary work, was reached.
As one of the major forms of Protestant Christianity, the Baptist
Church Movement grew in the course of the sixteenth and seven­
teenth centuries in Europe, and subsequently, spread to the United
States of America and other parts of the world. The movement, in
short, viewed the religious community as a ‘community of sincere
believers and the elect—and only [those] persons … adults [,] who
have innerly [sic] acquired and then overtly declared sincere belief
[were] to [be] baptized’.9 For the members of the baptizing move­
ment, the spiritual conversion to belief in Christ’s sacrifice, and gift
of salvation was essential. Not only that, the ‘conversion occurred
through an individual revelation, that is [,] through the effect of the
Holy Spirit inside the believer—and only in this manner’.10 Central
to the Baptist movement was, as Max Weber writes:
[t]he principle of ‘baptism of adult believers (even if they had been bap­
tized as children), namely, when the ‘age of reason’ had been attained. This
maturity, it was argued, enabled believers to reach a conscious decision
regarding their beliefs. Baptism (by full immersion) then constituted the
external sign of an inner experience of adulthood: the spirit’s rebirth.11
488 Nabanipa Bhattacharjee

Following the initiatives of the Baptist missionaries in Ger­

many, Switzerland, Sweden and other countries of Europe, the first
Baptist church was established in the United States of America by
Roger Williams in 1638.
The activities of the Baptist churches, however, did not remain
confined to local or even national boundaries. The evangelistic12
zeal of the Baptist missionaries was expressed, among others,
through the establishment of a series of associations and societies
dedicated to the task of preaching the message of God, and prefer­
ably in the language of the believer; not surprisingly, the Baptist
missionaries often took to learning to read and write (and translate)
the (vernacular) language of the people to whom they preached
in foreign lands. Influenced by their English counterparts, the
American Baptist missionaries too embarked on the process of
setting up Christian Foreign Missions in the early nineteenth cen­
tury. The American missionary associations showed tremendous
interest and extended financial help towards the activities of the
English Baptist Mission Society, and particularly its missionary
William Carey, at Serampore in India. ‘When the American Board
of Commissioners for Foreign Missions was established in 1812 by
the Congregationalists, the Baptists collected 3000 dollars to assist
in sending Luther Rice and Adoniram Judson and Ann Judson to
India’.13

American Baptists in Assam

Beginning around 1812, the pioneering work of the Judsons
paved the way for the future growth of missionary activities of the
American Baptist Foreign Mission Society (hereafter ABFMS)14 in
various parts of India, and particularly its northeastern frontier.
The proposition that the American Baptists should venture into a new
frontier in northeast India had been initially mooted by East India Com­
pany officials who, ever since its annexation in 1826, had been attempting
to bring order to this region that had a huge diversity of ethnic groups at
different stages of technology and culture. The administrators’ invitation
to missionaries, initially addressed to the Serampore Baptists and passed
on by them to their American counterparts, was testimony to their hope
 American Baptists in Colonial Assam 489

that they would buttress the efforts of the handful of colonial administra­
tors in ‘elevating the character of the people’ of this new territory.15

In the early years the missionaries of the ABFMS primarily

considered the Assam field as a point of entry to the territories of
Southeastern and Central Asia. In fact, the Khamti and Singpho
Hill tribes of upper Assam were believed to be linguistically and
culturally similar to the Shan tribe of northern Burma (Myanmar).
Among the latter, the ABFMS had already established missions
since 1814. With Sadiya in Assam as the first base. the Burma
trained missionaries of the ABFMS planned to initiate a Shan
(Assam) mission which, they believed, would eventually extend up
to China and Central Asia.16 Accordingly, Rev. Nathan Brown and
Oliver Cutter were directed to start a mission in Sadiya in 1836.
While Brown had the knowledge of the Burmese language, Cutter
had experience in printing technology. Indeed, the duo was found
to be most suitable for the much desirable mission.
The ABFMS, however, had to alter its plan and programme as
serious difficulties arose. The similarities between the hill tribes
of upper Assam and the Shans of Burma proved to be much less
than it had been thought. Inside Sadiya too ‘the Baptists were
faced with the necessity of learning a variety of dialects … and
transporting them from oral into written forms before any scrip­
tural dissemination could be undertaken’.17 Such difficulties made
the work of its missionaries extremely hard and tiring. The more
they acquired knowledge about Sadiya and its neighbouring areas,
the less motivated they became to continue mission work there.
Moreover, the expenditure of running the mission far exceeded
the financial resources at hand. As a result, the Assam mission was
told that ‘unless contribution to the treasury [was] increased [to]
a much greater ratio … the mission [could not] be supported even
in [its] present state’.18 By the early 1840s the ABFMS missionaries
were almost certain that missionary activity was not only impos­
sible but also futile among the ‘imperfectly “pacified”, preliterate
“tribal” people of the hills’.19
Instead, the prospect of evangelical work in the Assam plains
(valley), inhabited as it was by a ‘civilized’, settled (agriculturalist),
490 Nabanipa Bhattacharjee

caste-Hindu Assamese population with a single language and

written tradition, appealed to them. ‘Nathan Brown reported
to the Home Board, justifying the abandonment of their ongo­
ing projects near Sadiya, such as Miles Bronson’s work among
the Namsang Nagas’.20 Bronson also noted that ‘the “Assamese
[were] a most encouraging and inviting field’,21 and hence, con­
firmed Brown’s view of the people of the plains. Thus, the Shan
mission was folded up. Towards the close of 1843 Brown and
Cutter, equipped with a printing press, set themselves up at Sib­
sagar. Their colleagues Cyrus Barkar and Miles Bronson—both
had worked among the Nagas—moved to work in Gauhati and
Nowgong, respectively. In early 1945, with Sibsagar, Gauhati and
Nowgong as potential fields, the Baptist church was formed in
Assam. Between 1845 and 1851 the missionaries, supported by the
women (both missionary wives and women missionaries)22 of the
mission, opened orphanages and established schools for both boys
and girls. In order to coordinate the activities of the three mis­
sions, which in turn would contribute more fruitfully to the larger
cause of spreading the gospel, the Baptist Association of Assam
was formed in 1851.23 As the volume of work increased, more mis­
sionaries were sent out to Assam. Meanwhile, Barkar had passed
away and Cutter was ‘dismissed on charges of immoral conduct’.24
Brown, following policy differences regarding fiscal matters with
the Home Board, also left in 1855. It was almost a bleak phase in
the history of Assam chapter of the ABFMS.
However, the ‘energetic measures adopted by the local author­
ities [since 1858] restored to some extent the confidence of the
missionaries’.25 As mentioned, the ‘civilized’ caste-Hindu population
of the Assam plains was considered highly suitable for missionary
work, and, therefore, it served as the prime target field. Alongside,
similar projects were planned for other tribes such as the Garos,
the Nagas, the Kukis, and so forth, as also the central Indian immi­
grant tribes, which constituted the bulk of the tea garden labour
force. The financial patronage for the missionary operations came
from numerous sources including civil and military European offi­
cials who contributed quite generously to missionary operations.
‘Jenkins not only provided, as promised, a printing press but made
 American Baptists in Colonial Assam 491

regular contributions and offered constructive suggestions for the

spread of the gospel. It was through his recommendations again a
monthly grant of rupees one hundred was made to the Namsang
mission despite religious neutrality of the government.’26 While it
is true that the missionaries faced immense hardships given their
location in a foreign and inhospitable territory, yet the unofficial
help extended to them by the colonial administration from time to
time made their task considerably easy if not entirely smooth. As
Frederick S. Downs notes:
[t]he missions were primarily concerned with the propagation of the
Gospel … [but] they did find the government useful. It lent prestige to
their religion … provided financial support for their institutions and gave
them [sic] government granted monopoly on education in many areas,
an invaluable instrument of influence far beyond anything that such a
small group of people could ordinarily have on an alien society.27

But despite their enthusiasm, courage and fortitude—com­

bined with the cooperation of colonial officials—the ABFMS
missionaries only partially succeeded in spreading the gospel
amongst the caste-Hindu Assamese (and Bengali) population of
the Assam plains. The missionary Oscar L. Swanson says that ‘the
Bengalis … were proud and hard to win for the Lord. The planta­
tion population and the hill tribes were the most fruitful fields, but
I felt that we must reach the Assamese, who wielded an influence
far in excess of their numbers’.28 After decades of public service and
tireless work in the domains of education, health, print and publi­
cation, population (ethnological) survey, and so on, the number of
Christians in the Assam Valley remained remarkably low. Clearly,
the fruits of fervent evangelical activity did not reflect in the num­
ber of caste-Hindu Assamese converts to Christianity. Victor H.
Sword notes that the ‘Assamese for whom the mission had yielded
Sadiya and Jaipur had failed to accept Christianity’29; interest­
ingly, the tribes which lived in the plains, including the Garos
and Mikirs, showed a high rate of conversion. Therefore, from the
1870s the ABFMS gradually ‘abandon[ed] [its] earlier partiality for
a filtration policy of winning over the influential, “civilized” Hindu
gentry of the plains’,30 and redirected its attention to tribal terrains.
492 Nabanipa Bhattacharjee

It was evident by the final decades of the nineteenth century

that the ABFMS project, while profoundly influencing the lan­
guage, literature and culture of the Assamese people, for instance,
through the publications of the Assamese-English dictionary, the
Assamese periodical Arunodoi, and much else, had failed to con­
vert them to Christianity. Swanson, for example, remarks:
I mentioned my failures in reaching the Indian gentlemen, or babus, as
we usually call[ed] them. The shrewd lawyers, the unscrupulous trad­
ers, the proud Brahmins, the worldly-minded Indians who serve[d] the
British government, the young and impatient students [were] eager to
bring in reform but … [refused] to taste the power of Christ; to these
and many others I … often [spoke], but my words had not achieved any
visible results.31

For the Assamese, and more so the gentry, the ‘missionary

project served … as a harbinger of broad cultural change, with­
out necessarily succeeding in its own objective of bringing about
religious conversions’.32 The Assamese upper-caste Hindu gentry
welcomed and, in fact, encouraged the missionary initiatives but
only to the extent that those did not interfere with its religious and
caste beliefs. The Assamese upper castes ‘would regard Christian­
ity as true, but they would not accept it; for they would consider
Hinduism as equally true’.33
One reason for the near failure of the missionaries to win over,
unlike the tribes, the caste-Hindu Assamese populace for conver­
sion was due to its obvious strong and strict adherence to caste
values and norms; and it was the ‘literate, “influential”, “higher
class” of the Assamese people whom the missionaries were anxious
to convert’.34 Records show the extent to which the missionar­
ies were ignored, challenged, and sometimes even humiliated by
the Assamese (and Bengali) Hindu upper castes, particularly the
Brahmins, for their proselytizing efforts.35 As mentioned, while
the Brahmins and other upper castes were ready to be engaged
and involved in Christian learning and enterprise (knowledge),
they firmly stood against the idea of formal conversion to Christi­
anity. ‘The plains’ intelligentsia engaged itself in “regenerating” its
own culture so as to successfully respond to the challenges posed
 American Baptists in Colonial Assam 493

by colonial modernity. Christianity did not appear as an essential

clearing house in this project for them.’36 During the closing years
of the nineteenth and the beginning of the twentieth century, after
serious introspection and suggestions by the missionaries working
in the field, the Home Board had yet another ‘rethink[ing] [on]
missionary methodology’.37 Accordingly, it revised its policies. The
policy revision saw a serious and final acceptance of ‘the potential
for success among low-caste and “tribal” people in different parts
of India’,38 particularly the northeastern frontier. Meanwhile, the
imperial state, albeit not without certain reservations, formulated,
quite interestingly, a policy that ‘accepted missions as intermediar­
ies for “indirect rule ‘in the hill territories of northeast India’.39 The
altered policies of the Home Board as well as the imperial adminis­
tration facilitated the start of full-fledged ABFMS work among the
poor, lower-caste Hindus and tribes of the frontier. The missionar­
ies, in the circumstances, aimed to expand their work in the arenas
of literacy and health. In return they expected only the securing of
Christian ‘souls’.40 The ABFMS, of course, had suffered a setback
due to the complex caste-conversion issue among the upper-caste
Hindus. But that failed, as indicated (due to the revised policies),
to thwart the missionary spirit of the workers of the ABFMS. Mis­
sionaries continued to arrive in large numbers, and one such was
Oscar Levi Swanson who went on to pursue evangelical activity for
forty-three years in the hills and plains of Assam.

The Swanson Tale I

Born in Vastergotland, Sweden, Swanson moved to the United
States of America (at the age of thirteen) where he attended
the Morgan Park Theological Seminary at IIlinois.41 In 1893
Swanson and his wife arrived as missionaries of the ABFMS to
Assam. Their first stop happened to be Sibsagar from where they
eventually moved to North Lakhimpur, and finally to Golaghat in
1898 to establish the mission station there. As a well known and
respected missionary, he was awarded the Kaiser-i-Hind medal
for outstanding public service by the British government in India
in 1936. The same year he retired from active service in Assam,
494 Nabanipa Bhattacharjee

and returned to settle down in the United States of America.

Around 1945—the exact year being unavailable—Swanson
published his memoirs In Villages and Tea Gardens: Forty Three
Years of Missionary Work in Assam.42 In this slim volume of 210
pages Swanson offers a description of his personal experiences as a
missionary in a foreign field. In addition to an informative text, the
book also contains maps, illustrations and photographs. In fact,
it contains almost all the ingredients that go into the making of a
fairly satisfactory historical embedded ethnographic account.43 As
a text belonging to the colonial missionary (ethnography) writing
genre, it provides a socio-cultural narrative—with religious
activity as the central concern—of the life and times of the people
of Assam.
Colonial missionary texts have been put through scholarly
scrutiny for quite some time now.44 Given that the colonizer-
colonized relationship happened to be enmeshed in systems of
power, questions have been raised about the ‘right’ and ‘capacity’
of such texts to ‘understand’, and provide ‘authentic representa­
tion’ of the colonized subject. One line of argument suggests that
it is difficult, if not impossible, to treat such texts, devoid of any
sign of indigenous agency, and hence univocal as they are, as ‘truly
representative’. The other, pointing towards the complexity of the
aforementioned relationship, calls for their critically (contextually)
layered reading. Subscribing to the latter, Jean and John Comaroff
note that:
the evangelical encounter took place on an ever expanding subcontinental
stage; that it was to have profound, unanticipated effects on both colo­
nizer and the colonized; and that, just as colonialism was not a coherent
monolith, so colonial evangelism was not a simple matter of raw mastery,
of … churchmen instilling in passive … [brown Indians] the culture of
European modernity or the forms of industrial capitalism.45

Undoubtedly, the merit of the above argument lies in its non­

reductionist stance, and is certainly very important and crucial.
The Comaroffs argue that the colonial missionary texts contain
‘subtexts of disruption’,46 and these—the ‘irrational behavior …
mockery or … resistance’47 of the colonized—point towards the
 American Baptists in Colonial Assam 495

‘presence’ of ‘other’ voices in them. Swanson’s book, too, allows the

possibility of being read along this line of argument. Needless to
say, it touches upon nearly all the themes and aspects that inform
the contemporary discourse on missionary activity in colonial
India in general and the northeastern frontier in particular.
The trajectory of missionary initiatives in the north-eastern
frontier, given the local social and political conditions, has been
somewhat different. But, as mentioned, it shares certain common
elements with the other regional missionary trajectories. The
three important issues, namely, colonialism, conversion and caste,
which are central to the contemporary historiography of mission­
ary activity in India, also run through Swanson’s text. The issue
of conversion is of prime concern to Swanson. And that is invari­
ably discussed and located within the larger context of colonialism
and the caste system. The text, in addition, provides interesting
observations about the relationship between immigration experi­
ence and the growth of missionary zeal. The book begins with the
description of the journey of the Swanson family from Sweden to
the United States of America, the ‘wonderland of the West’48 as
Swanson says. Some influential members of the Swedish Baptist
church facilitated the immigration of the impoverished Swedish
family to Moline, Illinois. As an immigrant Swanson spent his
early years doing odd jobs and, most importantly, learning the
English language. However, being unaccustomed to the ways of
the Americans and their language, he often became the object of
their laughter and ridicule—they called him a ‘green Swede.49 At
that point, he notes, ‘besides learning English I also learned some­
thing of greater value. I learned the way of salvation’.50 His active
involvement with the local Swedish Baptist church began then,
and continued for the rest of his life. He writes:
The pastor of the church was eager to win the newcomers for Christ, and
the church provided a most suitable social and spiritual training field for
those who later were to become the leaders, as well as for those rank
and file of that mighty army of God that moved westward, in search of
religious and civil liberty … and in the case of many young idealistic
immigrants the prospects of full-time Christian service made a strong
appeal.51
496 Nabanipa Bhattacharjee

In due course, Swanson, who up until then was a member

of the Lutheran church by virtue of infant baptism, was baptized
again. But now it was the Swedish Baptist church which baptized
him. For him, church membership always meant more than mere
attendance at service. As a result, he became active in its pedagogic
as well as organizational activities. He joined in as a Sunday school
teacher and in the evening attended classes on theology and other
subjects held for the immigrants.
It was around that time that a senior member of the church,
one Mrs Bodelson, suggested that he ought to look beyond the
confines of the local church. She told him: ‘Oscar, you must go
out and preach the gospel to the heathen’.52 Swanson, bearing her
advice in mind, eventually enrolled at the Morgan Park Theologi­
cal Seminary. He initially found the place unimpressive in terms of
the structure and design. However, he later, after having rational­
ized, realized that ‘the immigrant boys had not come to admire
the creations of the minds of men; they had come with the clear
conviction that the mind of man was incurably evil and needed
the renewing power of the blood of Christ to be lifted above the
realms of sin and selfish strife’.53 As one of the European immigrant
students—or the ‘adopted problem children’54—of the class of 1889
he continued to study religion and philosophy, and simultaneously
grapple with the problems of learning the English language. He
writes that the English-speaking students were ‘looked up to …
as our superiors in every way, and when sharing rooms with them
or taking part in their activities we always felt overawed, and tried
to be at our best…. When they honored us with a place on impor­
tant programs we felt very much elated’.55 Having completed his
training, Swanson formally joined the ranks of those who were
interested to be engaged in the service of Christianity in their
homeland as well as outside it. The proposal of Swanson and his
wife—he married Emily Wenberg in 1892—to the ABFMS regard­
ing a possible foreign mission to Assam, India was welcomed by
the Swedish Baptist church of which both were full members.
Swanson was told that his ‘special gifts and … background’56 would
suit the work profile in Assam.
So, in 1893 he set sail for the distant province of Assam. He
 American Baptists in Colonial Assam 497

says: ‘And then again, at the railway station where I had landed as
an immigrant lad fourteen years before, not knowing what the new
land would offer me, I stood, once again, this time the chosen mes­
senger of the Savior to go out into far distant parts of the world to
seek the lost’.57 Swanson made much of the linkage between immi­
gration and missionary service (in a foreign field), and it is not
surprising that the trope appears frequently in his account. Dur­
ing his long period of stay in Assam there was no moment when
Swanson did not recall his experience of being an immigrant. He
then (indirectly) notes that he could withstand the trials and tribu­
lations of being an alien, immigrant man in the United States of
America only due to his unmoving faith in God, and service to the
propagation of God’s message. Indeed, God turned out to be the
singular saviour of such impoverished and helpless immigrants,
and the church selected new recruits from such immigrant groups.
In fact, it would be worthwhile to examine at some point whether
Swanson would have decided to become a missionary (in a for­
eign field) had he not been an immigrant. This, of course, is not
to claim that non-immigrants did not choose missionary work.
What is argued instead is that Swanson’s immigrant experience
perhaps contributed in more than a significant way to his decision
of devoting his entire life to missionary activity.
The journey of the Swansons’ aboard S.S. Pavonia to Calcutta,
India took 32 days. It was during the trip that the family slowly
came to realize the difficulties that lay ahead, the most serious
of these being the task of spreading the message of Christian­
ity amongst the ‘heathen’ who were neck deep in ‘old ideas’ and
‘superstitions’, and therefore not ‘civilized’. Swanson notes: ‘It
dawned on me that on the mission field we were to have many
idols and bigoted heathen priests to fight, and to my sorrow … my
suspicions were correct.’58 However, the faith in God (and on the
British colonial rule in India) provided him with the much-needed
mental comfort to continue with the journey. He observes: ‘We dis­
covered that … [the ship] was heavily loaded with whiskey, guns,
Bibles and missionaries, a real combination for the conquest of the
world.… As we travelled, we saw more and more of the misery of
the world where the Christian message had not been proclaimed’.59
498 Nabanipa Bhattacharjee

While passing Egypt, Swanson sympathized with the fate of the

adherents of Islam who had a ‘poor religion … [with] only a black
stone for its adherents to kiss, and the grave of [a] dead prophet’.60
The city of Calcutta, for the Swanson family, did not prove to be
very exciting, for it was crowded, poverty-ridden and dotted with
Hindu temples, and other holy sites of the ‘heathens’. Swanson’s
pity for the Hindus, whose ‘religion had nothing better to offer’,61
only grew with the passage of time, and consequently strength­
ened his commitment to the mission.
The family soon left the city and embarked on the trip to Sib­
sagar, Assam, where, upon arrival, no conventional welcome took
place. In fact, the multitudes thronging the church to embrace the
message of God was what Swanson had visualized. Instead, near
empty churches greeted him. In a tone of utter dismay, he writes:
‘But where were the noisy drums, and the gaudy elephants and
the fragrant garlands and the addresses of welcome in which the
multitudes expressed their eagerness to embrace the Christian
religion? About the only ones who paid any attention to me were
the pariah dogs … [they] barked at me and snarled in fear.’62 But
gradually, overcoming reversals and disappointments, Swanson
and his colleagues of the ABFMS set to work using new methods
and techniques of evangelization. Apart from obstacles faced by
the missionaries in matters of Christian propagation and conver­
sion, the fear of tropical diseases loomed large in their minds.
Following the death of a native worker of kala azar, Swanson was
shocked not because the worker had died but that he (and his
colleagues) ‘had been exposed to the same disease’.63 Taking the
hardships in his stride, Swanson continued to work. His primary
fields were the tribes including those who were employed in the
tea gardens. The tea tribes, he comments, were ‘more easily won
for Christ, as they had been in contact with Christianity back in
their own country, and having gone out from the old land to a new
home, they were susceptible to change and willing to throw away
their charms and demon worship for the religion of the white man
who gave them labor and provided for all their material needs’.64
Swanson began preaching, in a disarming but disciplined manner,
the gospel in public places (mainly the marketplace) where he felt
 American Baptists in Colonial Assam 499

it would be most effective; he came to be known as the pioneer

of ‘bazaar preaching’.65 At a point he realized, as admitted in the
memoir, that his adopted method of preaching called for revision.
In fact, he approved of the autocratic method (and its rationale) of
one Mr Petrick. He remarks:
Mr Petrick was inclined to be a bit autocratic, I soon learned, and perhaps
it was the right approach. These men [the native Christians] were accus­
tomed to having a white man do their thinking and give orders. In some
ways they were much like the slaves on our southern plantations, except
they were not sold or mistreated.66

In 1896 the Swanson family moved to North Lakhimpur to

carry on their missionary work. Around the same time Swanson
visited the Naga Hills, which was considered a difficult field by
most of the missionaries. He found the ‘practically naked savages’,
the ‘wild hill-men’ a ‘most interesting people and certainly in need
of salvation … but they were not a pleasant lot’.67 He, therefore,
returned to North Lakhimpur. The tours in and around the place
made him hopeful because of the rising number of converts there.
Surely, the success of the Christian faith lay, among other things,
in the conversion, as Robert E. Frykenberg opines, of the uniniti­
ated (‘heathen’).68 The missionaries were rarely satisfied with their
engagement with the social and educational interventions alone.
Such projects, in most cases, were undertaken to ensure conver­
sion through concomitant and effective social transformation and
change. For example, at the Fourth World Christian Endeavour
Convention held in Agra in 1909, remarks Swanson, the ‘converts
with us, men from headhunting tribes, garden laborers, proud
Assamese, and intelligent Khasia attracted much attention … and
we missionaries did our best to present them as the fruit of gospel
preaching’.69 In no case, however, the missionaries claimed to have
forcibly converted the people. They suggested that conversion
happened due to the interplay of divine as well as human agency
and free will. Proselytization or forced conversion was considered
immoral, unethical, and hence invalid. A true Christian was one
whose ‘external change’ matched the ‘inner transformation’ of the
‘heart, mind and will’.70 Following the ‘historic Christian thinking
500 Nabanipa Bhattacharjee

and ecclesiastical declarations’71 on conversion, the missionaries

of the ABFMS saw to it that undesirable (bad) habits like smok­
ing and consumption of alcohol were condemned and prohibited
among the Christian Baptist converts. Put differently, they strove
to make the society fit and conducive prior to undertaking the task
of disseminating the message of Christianity; a morally unclean
society could never be in a position to receive the divine message.
In fact, among others, an issue over which differences devel­
oped between the ABFMS and the Church of England missionaries
in Assam was the sale and consumption of alcohol (and the use of
tobacco).72 Apart from that, differences between the two groups
often manifested in their contending claims over potential conver­
sion fields. As Swanson states:
When we were accused by the Church of England missionaries of pros­
elytizing that district [Mongoldai], we were able to convince that their
members had come of their own accord and asked for the kind of gospel
we preached. But we were asked also to sign a comity agreement for the
future, and this was based on the principle that all those who came to us
should not be given mission [ABFMS] funds for the support of the work,
but should be compelled to rely on their own resources financially.73

Swanson’s observations on the issue resonate with those of

Frykenberg’s. The latter writes:
[m]ass movements of conversion [forced or otherwise], with whole
villages becoming Christian, such as had occurred at the end of the
eighteenth century and again in the late nineteenth century among both
Evangelicals and Catholics, became a focal point of nationalist concern
and opposition in the twentieth century. Such movements were severely
criticized by higher-caste Hindus, including Mohandas Karamchand
Gandhi. Gandhi went so far as to openly chastise India’s first Indo-Angli­
can Bishop, Vedanayakam Azariah, accusing him of betraying the nation
for his leadership of mass conversions in Danakil.74

Swanson too faced opposition from devout (right-wing

inclined) Hindus and Gandhian activists. About the latter he says:
‘It often happened in the market places where I preached that Gan­
dhi’s followers would come in a body and interrupt my services.’75
 American Baptists in Colonial Assam 501

The Swanson Tale II

By the Christmas of 1898 Swanson had built a house in Golaghat, a
place close to Jorhat in upper Assam, and moved there to establish
a mission station. His evangelical zeal, he proudly claims, was
stronger than ever.76 He writes: ‘With a great deal of pride and
many words of explanation I escorted my family around the new
“homestead”, and then we bent our knees before God and re­
dedicated ourselves to the task of winning the town, the tea gardens,
and as much of the province as we could reach for Jesus Christ.’ 77 A
number of new projects were planned and taken up to facilitate the
preaching of the gospel. The advantages of an improved printing,
publishing, and transport and communication system added to
that. The New Testament was revised, and both text as well as story
books were written and compiled to meet the rising demand of
education. Collaboration with the ABFMS missionaries of other
stations was initiated to undertake joint evangelical ventures. The
establishment of the Upper Assam Baptist Association (1900)
was one of the fruits of the collaboration. The highlight of the
entire Golaghat period of Swanson, the memoir suggests, was his
attempt to transform, primarily, the tribal societies of Assam in
order to ensure the maximum success of the conversion project.78
The Nagas, the Garos, the Mikirs, the Kacharis, and other tribes
emerged as the potential target fields.79 About the Mikirs, Swanson
writes:
The Mikirs were, on the whole, a poverty-stricken and neglected group.
The men were almost completely under the curse of opium-eating, and
their women had very little interest in anything except an animal exis­
tence. But the preaching of the gospel to barbarians was not prohibited
… and so I took it upon myself to give it a trial.80

As a result of individual as well as collective effort of the

ABFMS missionaries, the Assam mission, by the end of the third
decade of the twentieth century, stood at the ‘top of the ten Baptist
mission fields in the number of converts’.81 But the ‘highest-num­
ber-of-convert’ claim was simultaneously accompanied by the
lamentation, as Swanson’s report to the ABFMS conference held in
502 Nabanipa Bhattacharjee

Jorhat in 1926 shows, that there was ‘no sign of a mass movement
towards Christianity’.82 As noted, the missionaries had to regularly
face and deal with the resistance of the upper caste Hindu Assa­
mese population to evangelical endeavours. In fact, in the history
of Christianity in India caste emerged as the focus of controversy
for both the Christian community as well as the potential converts.
While the Indian Christian community members grappled with
their dual identities of caste and religion, the missionaries found
the caste identities of the potential converts the most difficult to
negotiate with.83 Caste not only erected barriers within the Chris­
tians but also held back the potential converts from accepting the
faith. While lower caste and tribal converts were considerably large
in number, upper caste converts, much to the disappointment of
the missionaries, were few and far between. Swanson, for instance,
was delighted when a caste-Hindu Assamese by the name of Mina­
ram was baptized. He recalls: ‘What a joy in our Bible class that
night, and what an encouragement to our Mundari and low caste
people to see a member of one of the prominent Assamese families
come out and join them in worshipping the Son of God.’84 Since
caste, as the missionaries realized, invariably came in the way of
social progress and change, and consequently conversion, the
institution was systematically criticized and denounced by them.
It seems clear that missionaries, as change agents, fully understood and
taught practical procedures and provided tools, which they thought nec­
essary for [their own as well their faith’s] survival within difficult social
environments of modern India…. In doing so, Western missionaries
sometimes clashed with colonial authorities while, at other times, they
also utilized or exploited those same authorities.85
The relationship of missionary activity and the colonial proj­
ect has been the subject of both commonplace speculation and
serious academic research in India and elsewhere.
In relation to Christianity, Christian mission, or even to all things Chris­
tian, the term [colonialism] has been useful for categorically demonizing
or epitomizing evil and exploitation, for assigning guilt, or for catego­
rizing anything deemed to be “anti-national”. Christian “colonialism”,
in other words, is a manifest form of oppression of the weak (East and
South) by the strong (West and North).86
 American Baptists in Colonial Assam 503

Modern historiography has more often than not conflated

Christianity with colonialism in India and elsewhere. It is true
that ‘there is evidence enough to support some instances of such a
conflation and to show that, in specific or occasional instances, the
conflation has been fully justified’.87 But it is equally true that ‘all
too casual conflation of Christianity and colonialism, sometimes
crudely blunt or simplistic and sometimes bereft of empirical
evidence, seems to have inhibited efforts to find more balanced
understandings. Significant elements in the history of Christians
in India, and much in Indian history itself, have to be ignored in
order to cherish this perspective’.88 As far as Swanson was con­
cerned, the White colonial power played the role of a catalyst
(facilitator) in the project of Christian evangelization across the
world. Societies and states ungoverned by (White) colonial powers
rarely provided much opportunity and hope for missionary work.
He avers:
I had lived under the British rule in India and studied the colonial power
of the Empire at close hand and found in its security one favorable condi­
tion for the evangelization of the heathen. In China and Africa many
missionaries had suffered martyrdom for their faith and mission prop­
erty had suffered great losses.89

As a missionary with self-confessed indifference to the politics

and the ‘political problems of India’,90 he, however, was aware of
the administrative, and other ‘difficulties involved in ruling the
colonies’.91 Indeed, he appreciated the British for being able to
overcome the difficulties and do a ‘good job of ruling India’.92
In his entire career Swanson (and his wife) availed of the
furlough to visit the United States of America only three to four
times, and after every trip back to the deeply loved Golaghat
plunged deeper into missionary work. Such was the case after the
first furlough in 1902, and the second in 1911. By 1917, when the
energized and driven Swanson would avail of another furlough,
the activities and spread of the ABFMS had reached substantial
proportions; for example, his report to the ABFMS in 1916 records
that the ‘past year [1915] was the busiest year in his life … [He]
travelled not only in the Golaghat field but also in the Sibsagar,
504 Nabanipa Bhattacharjee

Dibrugarh, and Sadiya fields. One trip was made to Kohima and
also a tour in the Nowgong district’.93 The work done by the mis­
sionaries of the ABFMS amongst the ‘coolies’/tea tribes of the tea
gardens was enormous, and the mission came to be locally referred
as the ‘Cooly Mission’. The missionaries initially did face resistance
from the tea garden authorities. But by the early twentieth-century
evangelical activity in the tea gardens had not only begun but was
also in full swing.
The Golaghat mission was instrumental in organizing Bap­
tist Bible conferences for Christian workers. The conferences
facilitated the meeting and exchange of notes between workers of
different ABFMS missions in Assam. And certainly, such measures
consolidated and strengthened the American Baptist missionary
influence in Assam and beyond. In 1936 the centennial celebra­
tion of the Assam mission of the ABFMS was held in Jorhat, and
Swanson was one of its most important organizers. It was also the
last Christian public ceremony he attended in Assam, for it was the
year of his retirement from active service and return to the United
States of America.
O.L. Swanson … five years after his golden wedding anniversary, and
after being widowed, returned to Assam in 1947 at age 80 with his second
wife; and as the new wave of missionaries began to arrive, Swanson for
two years again preached the gospel in the marketplace, and shared the
love of Christ in private conversations, until his death in 1949.94
Swanson was neither a trained scholar nor an accomplished
writer. Not surprisingly, his account lacks finesse of expression,
not to mention the simplistic and insensitive, if not downright
offensive, views he offers on the racial and sociocultural character
of India. For instance, his colour preferences and ideas associated
with the ‘superiority’ of the White European race are evident in the
book. He writes:
When the [White, European] children are small they are placed in the
charge of an Indian woman, or ayah, who looks after them and sees that
no cobras come in striking distance of their little legs. Angry and sick
dogs pay no attention to race distinction when attacking a child, and the
ayah has strict instructions to keep such animals at a proper distance.95
 American Baptists in Colonial Assam 505

Having shared with most of the fellow missionaries and the

colonial rulers the ‘White Man’s Burden’ of ‘civilizing’ India, Swan-
son, in a tone bordering on condescension, acknowledges (by the
end of his tenure) that the Indians were finally ‘qualified’ and fit to
propagate Christianity in the country. He remarks:
The multitudes of India, bound in old customs and religious practices
are not won for Christ by a few ambitious white men, but will be won,
someday, by the faithful labour and lives of millions of its humble out-
castes and others, witnessing for Christ in their own way and to their own
people.96

Be that as it may, Swanson’s memoir is an interesting piece

of colonial missionary writing. ‘The American Baptists were the
pioneers in the ethnological [ethnographic] studies in Assam.
Besides a series of articles in the Arunodoi they published interest­
ing accounts of their own of the Garos, Mikirs, Miris and Nagas
with whom they lived and worked.’97 The quality of the ethno­
graphic98 content of Swanson’s account may not exactly be on par
with that which is found in the writings—magazines, journals,
mission proceedings and books—of others ABFMS missionaries.
None the less, some of his observations on say, for example, the
tea garden labour99 force, the state of (tribal) women, and so forth
are considerably insightful. Therefore, his account may be taken as
an important addition to the existing oeuvre of missionary (eth­
nographic as well as church history) writing on colonial Assam.
Finally, Swanson’s memoir, by shedding light on the complexi­
ties of the preacher-preached relationship in a colonial setting,
points towards the necessity and value of adopting a theoretically
nuanced frame for locating missionary writings.

Notes
1. Milton Sangma, History of American Baptist Mission in North-
East India (1836-1950), Mittal Publications, 1987, p. 14; see also,
Frederick S. Downs, The Mighty Works of God, Christian Literature
Centre, Gauhati, 1971.
2. Ibid., p. 15.
506 Nabanipa Bhattacharjee

3. Robert E. Frykenberg, ‘Christians in India: An Historical Overview

of Their Complex Origins’, in Christians and Missionaries in India:
Cross-Cultural Communication since 1500, ed. Robert E. Frykenberg,
London, Routledge Curzon, 2003, p. 58; see also, T.K. Oommen, and
Hunter P. Marby (eds), The Christian Clergy in India: Social Structure
and Social Roles, vol. I, Sage Publications, New Delhi, 2000.
4. Ibid., p. 58.
5. See, for example, Andrew Porter, Religion versus Empire: British
Protestant Missionaries and Overseas Expansion, 1700-1914,
Manchester University Press, Manchester, 2004.
6. See, for example, Timothy George, Faithful Witness: The Life and
Mission of William Carey, Birmingham: New Hope, 1991; Stephen
Neill, History of Christianity in India: 1707-1858, Cambridge
University Press, Cambridge, 1985.
7. Heramba K. Barpujari, The American Missionaries and North-East
India (1836-1900 A.D.), Spectrum Publications, Guwahati, 1986,
p. xii.
8. Ibid., p. xiv.
9. Max Weber, Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism,Roxbury
Publishing Company, LA, California, 2002 [1904-05], pp. 93-4; see
also, Leonard Farnando and G. Gispert Sauch, Christianity in India:
Two Thousand Years of Faith, Penguin/Viking, New Delhi, 2004.
10. Weber, op. cit., pp. 93-4.
11. Ibid., p. 219.
12. The term evangelical is often used instead of the term Protestant. The
former, essentially a post-Second World War term, generally refers
to Anglo-American Protestantism; see also, Frykenberg, op. cit.,
p. 47.
13. Sangma, op. cit., p. 5.
14. The primary sources for the history and activities of the ABFMS are
the annual field reports, missionary conference proceedings and
magazines.
15. Jayeeta Sharma, ‘Missionaries and Print Culture in Nineteenth-
Century Assam: The Orunodoi Periodical of the American Baptist
Mission’ (256-273), Christians and Missionaries in India: Cross-
Cultural Communication since 1500, ed. Robert E. Frykenberg,
Routledge Curzon, 2003, p. 257; see also, Barpujari, op. cit., p. 93.
16. Ibid.; see also, Sangma, op. cit., p. 23; see also, Downs, op. cit., p. 17.
17. Sharma, op. cit., p. 257.
18. Victor H. Sword, Baptists in Assam: A Century of Missionary
 American Baptists in Colonial Assam 507

Service, 1836-1936, Conference Press, Chicago, 1936 [1935], p. 59 in

Barpujari, op. cit., pp. xv-xvi.
19. Sharma, op. cit., p. 257.
20. Ibid.,
21. Letter from Bronson to Peck, 1841, in Barpujari, op. cit., pp. 251-2;
see also, Sharma, op. cit., p. 258.
22. See, for example, Mary M. Clark, A Corner in India, Philadelphia:
American Baptist Publication Society, 1907; Geraldine H. Forbes,
‘In Search of the Pure Heathen: Missionary Women in Nineteenth-
Century India’ (ws2-ws8), Economic and Political Weekly, vol. 21,
no. 17, April 1986; Subba, Tanka B. et al. (eds), Christianity and
Change in North East India, Concept Publishing House, 2009;
Suryasikha Pathak, Missionary Wives in the Evangelical Project in
Colonial Assam: Life and Times of Mrs. P.H. Moore, Lecture Series
Publication, Lecture XXIV, ICHR-NERC, Guwahati, 2008; Nabanipa
Bhattacharjee, ‘Jane Helen Rowlands: Portrait of a Welsh-Bengali
Life’, Northeast Review, 11, October-December 2014.
23. Barpujari, op. cit.
24. Ibid., p. xviii.
25. Ibid., p. xix.
26. Ibid., p. xiv.
27. Downs, Christianity in North East India: Historical Perspectives,
Christian Literature Centre, 1983, p. 279; Barpujari, The American
Missionaries and North-East India (1836-1900 A.D.), p. xxiv.
28. Oscar L. Swanson, In Villages and Tea Gardens: Forty-Three Years of
Missionary Work in Assam, Spectrum Publications, Guwahati, 1997,
pp. 73.
29. Sword, op. cit., p. 119 in Barpujari, op. cit., p. xxv.
30. Sharma, op. cit., p. 271.
31. Swanson, op. cit., p. 175.
32. Sharma, op. cit., p. 268.
33. Barpujari, op. cit., pp. xxv-xxvi.
34. Sharma, op. cit., p. 264; see also, Copley, Anthony, Religions in
Conflict: Cultural Contact and Conversion in Late-Colonial India,
Oxford University Press, 1997; Robinson, Rowena, Christians of
India, Sage Publications, 2003.
35. Swanson, op. cit., passim.
36. Sharma, op. cit., p. 271.
37. Ibid., p. 272.
38. Ibid.
508 Nabanipa Bhattacharjee

39. Ibid.
40. Ibid.
41. Jonathan Larson, ‘A History of BGC Missions in Assam’ (3-4), The
Baptist Pietist Clarion, vol. 13, no. 1, October 2014.
42. The book does not mention the exact year of publication. It says
that the second edition of the book was ‘first published in the USA
by Conference Press around 1945’. In 1997 the first Indian reprint,
including a new index, was published by Spectrum Publications,
Guwahati.
43. Barpujari, op. cit., pp. xliv-xlix.
44. See, for example, Joseph Mullens, The Results of Missionary Labour
in India, London Missionary Society, 1852; Gauri Viswanathan,
Masks of Conquest: Literary Study and British Rule in India,
Colombia University Press, 1989; Thomas Richards, The Imperial
Archive: Knowledge and the Fantasy of Empire, London & New York:
Verso, 1993; Simon Gikandi, Maps of Englishness: Writing Identity
in the Culture of Colonialism, New York: Columbia University Press,
1996; Kate Teltscher, India Inscribed: European and British Writing
on India 1600-1800, Oxford University Press, 1995; Anna Johnston,
Missionary Writing and Empire, 1800-1860, Cambridge University
Press, 2003.
45. Jean and John Comaroff, Of Revelation and Revolution: Christianity,
Colonialism, and Consciousness in South Africa, vol. I, University of
Chicago Press, Chicago, 1991, pp. 12-13.
46. Johnston, op. cit., 1800-1860, p. 25.
47. Comaroff, op. cit., p. 37.
48. Swanson, op. cit., p. 15.
49. Ibid., p. 18.
50. Ibid., p. 19.
51. Ibid.
52. Ibid., p. 22.
53. Ibid., p. 26.
54. Ibid., p. 29.
55. Ibid.
56. Ibid., p. 34.
57. Ibid., p. 37.
58. Ibid., p. 40.
59. Ibid.
60. Ibid., p. 41.
61. Ibid., p. 46.
 American Baptists in Colonial Assam 509

62. Ibid., p. 48.

63. Ibid., p. 52, passim.
64. Ibid., p. 54.
65. Larson, op. cit., p. 3.
66. Swanson, op. cit., p. 56.
67. Ibid., p. 62.
68. Robert E. Frykenberg, ‘Introduction: Dealing with Contested
Definitions and Controversial Perspectives’, in Christians and
Missionaries in India: Cross-Cultural Communication since 1500,
edited by Robert E. Frykenberg, Routledge Curzon, London, 2003,
p. 17.
69. Swanson, op. cit., p. 94.
70. Frykenberg, ‘Introduction’, op. cit., p. 19; see also, Swanson, op. cit.,
p. 176.
71. Frykenberg, ‘Introduction’, op. cit., p. 19.
72. Swanson, op. cit., p. 105, passim; see also, Barpujari, op. cit..
73. Swanson, op. cit., pp. 153-4.
74. Frykenberg, ‘Introduction’, op. cit., p. 23.
75. Swanson, op. cit., p. 149.
76. Sangma, op. cit.
77. Swanson, op. cit., p. 71.
78. Sangma, op. cit., pp. 159-60.
79. Swanson, op. cit., p. 137, passim.
80. Ibid., pp. 77-8.
81. Ibid., p. 146.
82. Oscar L. Swanson, ‘Golaghat: The Golaghat Field 1926’ (17-19), in
Report of American Baptist Work in Assam, 2-10 December, Jorhat,
Assam, 1926, p. 18, digitally (images.library.yale.edu) accessed on
5 May 2015.
83. Frykenberg, ‘Introduction’, ‘Christians in India’, op. cit.; Swanson,
op. cit.
84. Swanson, op. cit., p. 91.
85. Frykenberg, ‘Introduction’, op. cit., p. 16; see also, Comaroff, op. cit.;
Bernard H. Cohn, Colonialism and Its Forms of Knowledge: The
British in India, Princeton University Press, 1996; Neill, A History of
Christian Missions, Harmondsworth, Middlesex, 1964; Brian Stanley,
The Bible and the Flag: Protestant Missions and British Imperialism in
the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Apollos, Trowbridge, 1990;
Nicholas Thomas, Colonialism’s Culture: Anthropology, Travel and
Government, Carlton, Melbourne University Press, Victoria, 1994.
510 Nabanipa Bhattacharjee

86. Frykenberg, ‘Introduction’, op. cit., p. 7.

87. Ibid., p. 8.
88. Ibid., p. 9.
89. Swanson, op. cit., p. 80, passim; see also, Robert Bickers, Britain in
China: Community, Culture and Colonialism, 1900-1949, Manchester
University Press, 1999.
90. Swanson, op. cit., p. 147.
91. Ibid., p. 175.
92. Ibid., p. 147.
93. Sangma, op. cit., p. 162.
94. Larson, op. cit., p. 4.
95. Swanson, op. cit., p. 109.
96. Ibid., p. 182; see also, Oommen and Marby (eds), The Christian
Clergy in India.
97. Barpujari, op. cit., p. xlix
98. See, for example, Talal Asad (ed.), Anthropology and the Colonial
Encounter, Ithaca Press, London, 1973; Sjaak V. Der Geest,
‘Anthropologists and Missionaries: Brothers under the Skin’ (588­
601), Man, vol. 25, 1990.
99. See, for example, Sheila Bora, ‘The American Baptist Missionaries
Amidst the Tea Garden Workers in the Brahmapautra Valley (1886­
1936)’, in: The Tea Labourers of North East India: An Anthropological
Perspective, ed. Sarthak Sengupta, Mittal Publications, New Delhi,
2009.
 CHAPTER 20

Early Response to Christianity in Mizoram

ROHMINGMAWII

Introduction
The Mizos, who were then known as the Lushais or Chins, or
sometimes mentioned as Kukis, were the people living in the hills
of the north-eastern part of India, on the southern border of the
plains of Cachar. Though they had been fighting constantly among
themselves, the Mizos remained outside the domination of any
sovereign states for centuries; they lived a politically independent
life, even from each other in their own village sites. However,
when the British rule extended to the north-eastern part of
India, and especially after Cachar was annexed, the Lushais were
disturbed because they perceived that the British intruded upon
their territorial claim and thus, constant raids were carried out to
the plains of Cachar. The earliest tribal raid was in 1826 when a
party of woodcutters from Sylhet was massacred by some Kukis.
The first ever British expedition to the Lushai Hills was sent in
1844 led by Captain Blackwood. From this time onwards, punitive
expeditions had been sent time and again to the Lushai Hills
against the tribal raids to the British territory to intimidate the
Lushais. But there was no measure to occupy the area permanently
until the end of the nineteenth century. A strong expedition was
sent to the Lushai Hills in 1889-90, known as the Chin-Lushai
Expedition, and permanent posts were established, two in South
Lushai Hills (Fort Lunglei and Fort Tregear) and two in North
Lushai Hills (Fort Aizawl and Changsil). Capt. H.R. Browne, who
was personal assistant to the Chief Commissioner of Assam, was
512 Rohmingmawii

appointed as the political officer in the North Lushai Hills which

became a district of Assam. In April 1891, the South Lushai Hills
was made a district under the Bengal government and Mr G.S.
Murray was appointed as the first superintendent of the district.1
Thus, by 1891, the whole of Mizoram was officially under the
British rule and a new era began. The chiefs, who were supreme
and independent in their own villages, were subdued and were
given nominal authority under the British government.2
Close on the heels of the Lushai expedition to Mizoram were
the Christian missionaries who arrived in January 1894.3 The
Arthington missionaries, Rev. F.W. Savidge and Rev. J.H. Lor-
rain, were the pioneer missionaries and they were succeeded by
the Welsh Presbyterian missionaries. Rev. D.E. Jones was the first
Welsh missionary to work in Mizoram. He arrived in August 1897
and he was joined by more missionaries later. The Welsh Presbyte­
rian Mission continued to hold their ground in the northern part
of Mizoram with Aizawl as their headquarters when the Baptist
Missionary Society started their mission in the southern part of
Mizoram with their headquarters at Lunglei. These two missions
were the main foreign missions that worked in Mizoram.4 Thus, to
this day, it is the Presbyterian and the Baptist denominations that
are predominant in Mizoram.

Mission Work
The work of the missionaries took place in the areas of education,
evangelization and health care. When they came to Mizoram, the
pioneer missionaries, Rev. F.W. Savidge and J.H. Lorrain, found
the absence of any form of script and, therefore, made it their
first task to reduce the language into a written form. This they
did by adopting the Roman script. They created an alphabet for
the Duhlian dialect, which was widely spoken and understood
throughout the Lushai Hills, and it continues to be in use till
date.
One of the key aspects of the mission work was school educa­
tion. The first school in Mizoram, after the Western model, was
started by Rev. Savidge, most probably in 1895, on the site allot­
ted to the mission by the colonial government.5 Their work was
 Early Response to Christianity in Mizoram 513

continued by their successors and it became one of the most

important and lasting marks of the mission in Mizoram. The
accomplishment of the Christian missions in education was highly
commendable, and the colonial government also recognized their
contribution. Thus, the management of schools in the whole
Mizoram was eventually placed in the hands of the Welsh mission­
aries from 1904.6 At the same time, the government also played
their part in encouraging school attendance among the masses by
offering certain concessions. Zairema, a Mizo pastor and scholar,
notes,
Early in the history, the government also tried to encourage education by
exempting those who graduated Class IV Standard of today from forced
labour which was a hated imposition by the British administration.…
To escape this degrading and laborious task a number of young people
joined schools opened by the missionaries.7

The chiefs were shown favour by being given free rations if

they took to education, and it was mandatory for them to stay in
a hostel.8 The number of schools also increased substantially in
the whole district when the government permitted the district
authority to open five schools every year up to a maximum of 20
schools. As a result, new village schools were opened, and by 1903,
there were 15 schools in the northern part of Mizoram alone. Of
these schools, six were in Aizawl and the remaining schools were
in other villages.
Throughout the British period, the subsidized mission schools
were almost entirely of Middle English standard, the primary
objective of the missions being to train and employ good preachers.
The early students were not all Christians though religious study
formed an important part of the syllabus. The general standard of
knowledge remained quite low.9 Zairema says that the British gov­
ernment emphasized mass education rather than higher education
for the few, the reason for which was to reduce educated unem­
ployment. To start a high school was completely forbidden.10 It was
conspicuous that the driving force of the missionaries to educate
the masses was to enable them to read the Bible on their own,11 and
the early educated Mizos were sent out as teachers with a meagre
remuneration of about Rs. 5 (about 61 cents). Yet, often times,
514 Rohmingmawii

these village schoolmasters were the respected persons in their vil­

lages as they were the only salaried persons and they enjoyed the
privilege of literacy. They acted not only as day teacher[s] but as
evangelists and pastors,12 and many of them were church elders.
Education was an important agency through which new converts,
who later became the most important leaders of the church and
staunch supporters of the colonial rule, were acquired.
Evangelism and health care are other areas where the mission
spent their effort. It was in evangelism, according to Vanlalch­
huanawma, a Mizo scholar, that the pioneer missionaries faced
the greatest challenge,13 and for the first few years, there were no
converts. The pre-Christian Mizos addressed physical sickness
through spiritual means and they performed sacrifices to appease
the spirits that were believed to cause them sickness.14 The content
of the early sermons in Mizoram seems to be that they could get
salvation from all ills through belief in Jesus or Pathian who has
power over the evil spirits, which also meant freedom from the
costly and numerous sacrifices that had to be offered to the evil
spirits. It also preached free entrance to Pialral15 for those who
believe and obey God’s word, and those who refused to believe
and obey God’s word were to be cast into hremhmun or hell.
A Mizo scholar and pastor, C.L. Hminga, believes that hearing
they could have a healthy and prosperous life without the costly
sacrifices they used to make to the evil spirits, only by putting their
trust in Pathian or God, and the possibility of going to Pialral after
death which was their highest desired goal not by attaining the cov­
eted Thangchhuah title which was beyond the reach of most people
but simply by believing in the Lord Jesus must have sounded like
real good news.16 In his book, The Life and Witness of the Churches
in Mizoram, he mentions about asking the first generation Chris­
tians why they became Christians. Many of them replied that they
became Christians because they feared hremhmun.17 Others said
they became Christian because they want to go to Pialral or Van-
ram. Vanram is the Mizo term for ‘heaven’ or ‘Kingdom of Heaven’.
Others said they became Christians to get healed from sickness
without sacrificing to the demons.18 It is clear, in any case, that
the helpless situation of the natives compelled them to believe the
 Early Response to Christianity in Mizoram 515

preachers while the new gospel was forceful enough to give opti­
mism and hope to them on their very own terms.
Apart from offering healing from spiritual realm, medical help
was also rendered by the missionaries. Even before the first medi­
cal missionary, Dr Peter Fraser, arrived, the missionaries made
good use of their tablets of medicine to fight the ‘superstitious
belief ’ of the people who connect their physical ailment with the
evil spirits and shook the foundation of their belief system. Thus,
with all these advantages and supplemented by other factors,19
within a few years since the first conversions, Christianity became
popular throughout Mizoram.

New Religion and New Way of Life

The first Mizo converts were two young men, Khuma and Khara,
who were baptized in 1899, and the number of conversions
increased at a rapid rate since then. These new converts started
to make evangelist tours of villages20 and in the first census in
1901, there were 736 male literates and 25 female literates in
Mizoram, with the number of Christians being 45 (including two
missionaries and 13 Khasis).21 In the first decade of the twentieth
century, the growth was from 57 converts to 6,134 in the north and
from 19 communicant members to 1,931; south Mizoram had a
larger number of Christians than north Mizoram at the beginning
of the decade.22
The Mizo religion was a primal one with simple religious
dogma and practices before Christianity was preached to them,23
and a chance of doctrinal contradiction with the new religion was
more or less absent. Besides, the missionaries were tactful enough
to make use of the existing terminologies to define the new reli­
gion, which helped the Mizos understand their teachings without
difficulty; for instance, they continued to use Pathian of the Mizo
religion for the supreme God of the Christians, and Pialral for
heaven or a destination after death (though in a different sense).
Since the Mizos were already familiar with the existence of a
supreme being, when the Christian God was identified with the one
they were always worshipping (Pathian), they easily understood
516 Rohmingmawii

it and readily accepted it. In traditional Mizo belief, there was a

scope for changing one’s sakhua (generally translated as religion)
by the practice of saphun, i.e. in Mizo traditional society, different
tribes had different sakhua and if a person wanted to change his
sakhua, he can saphun by performing the required ceremonies and
he then adopted the sakhua of the tribe he wanted to be incor­
porated into. Therefore, notionally at the least, it was acceptable,
even, on occasion, reasonable, to convert to a new religion.
Nevertheless, the real problem lay in the fact that believing in
the new religion or becoming a Christian required them to desist
from their old lifestyle and submit to a new one. Zairema mentions
that being new creations, the new converts felt that they should
cut themselves off completely from old religious practices. For
example, every Mizo family kept a castrated pig for family worship
and only the very nearest relatives shared in the feast that followed.
Christians could not take part in this and thus cut themselves off
from blood family ties and adopted their fellow Christians as their
new family. The annual festivals were usually associated with the
old religious worship and, as the Christians refused to take part,
they were regarded as anti-social elements.24 The newly converted
were expected to observe Sundays, and could not participate in
any village ceremonies which involved religious functions related
to their old religion like kawngpuisiam, Fanodawi, etc. Becom­
ing good Christians made them bad citizens. Thus, it is clear that
conversion to Christianity involved many things other than simply
believing in Jesus.
The adoption of a new religion brought a radical change to
the whole existence of the Mizos in which the Mizo Christians
were expected to adapt themselves. In the beginning, conversion
basically meant giving up the kelmei charm (a tuft of the tail of a
goat the Mizo would wear around the neck to ward off evil spirits)
and drinking zu (local rice beer).25 It was a very common prac­
tice for the Mizos to smoke tobacco and drink rice beer; it was
part of their socializing activities. However, the people hardly got
drunk save the elderly members on special occasions like festivals,
ceremonial functions, etc. Though the missionaries did not allow
smoking a pipe inside the place of worship, they did not prohibit
 Early Response to Christianity in Mizoram 517

its use among the Mizo Christians. However, total prohibition was
enforced against taking liquor, and this became the biggest obsta­
cle for the Mizos to become Christians, because in Mizo society,
zu drinking was as common as drinking tea today. Zu was offered
to visitors as a sign of hospitality, and was, of course, an essential
part of all Mizo rituals. The Lakher and Mizo Christians, however,
were not allowed to drink wine, beer or spirits, and no one who
ever touched alcohol could become a Christian; they would be
ex-communicated from the church if they were found drinking
rice beer.26 Besides, the early church prohibited the use of drums
in worship, and the traditional Mizo songs and dances were all
banned.
While many cultural practices of the Mizos were forbidden
in the light of the new religion, many others came to be intro­
duced. Observation and rest on Sunday was a new practice and
was initially frowned upon as they were anticipated not to be hav­
ing enough harvest. In their style of dressing and other practices,
the converts were more inclined to adopt the new culture, and the
guideline of the church also showed favour to the tide of changed.
Since social and religious practices of traditional society were too
closely intertwined, denouncing one meant disowning the whole
system. Thus, the new convert must have felt and appeared as a
complete stranger in his own home.

Response to the Mission Work

Like all other tribal societies, the introduction of colonial rule and
a new religion brought profound changes in the Mizo world. In
fact, drastic change is one of the most dreadful things to happen in
the tribal societies because, as Frederick S. Down says, their society
is like a ‘fragile eco-system’ that functions well unless disturbed by
‘alien intrusion’27 but breaks down easily if one area fails. Downs
says thus,
[the] imposition and extension of British administration during the nine­
teenth and twentieth century in the hill areas of the North-East created
an unprecedented social trauma. Tribal societies are highly integrated.
Distinctions cannot easily be made between religious, social, cultural and
518 Rohmingmawii

political elements in those societies. Anything that affects one aspect of

the society will affect the whole.28

With regards to the Mizo society, the superintendent of the

Lushai Hills, A.G. McCall, observes that ‘[the] advent of the Brit­
ish form of government and control for a time certainly paralyzed
the people; and the British occupation of Lushai [Mizo] marked
the presence of a power hitherto unforeseen and unimagined.
The world of Lushai [Mizo] was staggered and bewildered.’29 The
establishment and development of the church in Mizoram went
simultaneously with the colonial dominance and not only political
but also social and cultural changes that swept the area gave way to
a completely new way of life. Therefore, though some people were
receptive to changes, there were non-conformists who refused to
give in to change, and the chiefs, who were mostly traditionalists
and whose interest was at stake, were the most noticeable strik­
ers in the initial years, though contempt from the masses was also
detectable.
When the western model of school was introduced by the
missionaries, many parents had antagonistic feelings. Apart from
want of conviction about any special value or prospect of the
schools, the Western system of education seemed unsuitable to
the activity-prone Mizo boys and girls who are used to practical
training for basic survival skills through the traditional learning
system. It was also found to weaken zawlbuk (young men’s dormi­
tory), the traditional structure of learning and the discipline that it
stood for. Thus, many parents perceive that schooling was an only
excuse of their children to escape their chores and they did not see
the need of attending schools, especially for girls, when they were
busy trying to make ends meet. Thus, even in 1905, there was a
small number of students in proportion to the number of schools
in the Welsh Mission area. The average distribution of pupils in
each school was less than 10. It is interesting to note that while the
ratio of the literate Mizo by 1903 was already twelve to every one
thousand people, the ratio of the students in mission schools by
1905 was far below one to a thousand.30 It implies that while the
Mizos had great skill for learning, they did not bother to attend
 Early Response to Christianity in Mizoram 519

the mission schools, according to Vanlalchhuanawma, because of

‘it’s close association with the alien administration, an association
which meant not simply a superficial cooperation but a deeper
level of relationship with a vested interest’.31 Rev. D.E. Jones, in his
private correspondence, mentioned that the boys who attended
the school regularly cast off the charms that the Lushais (Mizos)
wear around their necks, and several were enthusiastic in their
efforts to tell non-believers. The burning of charms and amulets
by some of the pupils caused hostile reactions in parents and the
public as a whole. They threatened and inflicted punishment, and
villagers tried to persuade them not to attend school. Some of the
older boys were called upon to act as coolies as an excuse to send
them away from the influence of the missionaries.32 It is thus obvi­
ous that the Mizos related mission schools with the new religion
and, therefore, adopted a hostile attitude towards them.
As people began to be receptive to the gospel, persecution soon
followed, mainly from the chiefs. There could be many reasons
for the growing antipathy towards the new converts. One of the
foremost reasons was the apprehension by the chiefs as they saw
in Christianity a possible threat to their already limited author­
ity, recognizing as they did the close connection between the Saps
(Whites) and the Christians33 Mr Thankunga, a Christian leader,
was actually alleged by the chief as attempting to deprive him of
his chieftainship, and a case of an ignominy was filed against him.
As the case was tried in the presence of the plaintiff and defendant,
the court was on the rampage, condemning Thankunga guilty,
and sentencing him to 10 years imprisonment. It imposed upon
him the gruesome task to dig the ground as a punishment.34 In
the meantime, most chiefs were hostile to the Christian move­
ment, perhaps because they thought Christianity was becoming
a disruptive element in the normal village life.35 The Christians
were found to have developed a stronger obligation to their faith
than to their chiefs, and this produced growing enmity between
the Christians and the chiefs. The first Christians in the south at
Pukpui village were accused by their chief of disobeying orders
as they were unwilling to work as coolies on Sundays. Therefore,
a case was filed against them at the court of the sub-divisonal
520 Rohmingmawii

officer (civil), Lunglei.36 Some Christians were beaten and expelled

by their chiefs from their villages at midnight or during a heavy
downpour of rain, because they were Christians. Christians were
denied their privilege of cultivation by the chiefs, who also forbade
giving food to them. In some villages, non-Christians refused to
bury Christians, which was a real trial when there were only two
or three Christians.37
It is interesting to note the promptness with which the Brit­
ish government came to the rescue of the new Christians in the
early years. For the expelled Christians in the south, a site was
given by the government at Sethlun as early as 1902, in which the
first Christian village, which they called Pathian Khua (‘God’s vil­
lage’), was set up.38 There are a few other such Christian villages,
like Durtlang,39 which was set up with the help of the government.
Here, the government exercised their power to raise anyone they
liked as a chief or eliminate a chief if they so desired. This was
one trend followed by the government, which clearly and deeply
undermined the authority of the chiefs in the minds of the people,
and, at the same time, proved the superior power of the govern­
ment. As such, the Mizos, for a very long time, perceived all the
Whites, irrespective of their trade or nationality, to be a ‘man of
power’. One of the most intense persecutions was seen in Khan­
daih village where the first permanent Mission school was set up.
One spectacular thing recorded about the Christians in Khandaih
village is that the newly converted Christian ladies began to wear
a sacred cloth called thangchhuahpuan which could be worn by
only those who earned a coveted name thangchhuah.40 The local
people, particularly the elders of the village, did not like this trend
as it was an obvious challenge to their traditional belief. Besides,
the number of Christians increased considerably, especially after
the 1906 revival that created a feeling of apprehension. It was a
general feeling that the Christians disturbed the normal life of the
village and mistreating of the Christians in this village began from
May 1906.41 Those village elders whose children were Christians
were not allowed to drink with the chief unless their children
revert to their previous belief. Christians were beaten and looted of
their possessions and expelled from the village in the middle of the
 Early Response to Christianity in Mizoram 521

night in the midst of heavy rain and mosquitoes.42 When the per­
secution did not die down even after a year in the new village site,
Rev. D.E. Jones visited the village to see the situation for himself.
Vanphunga, the chief of Khandaih village, and his brothers, who
were also chiefs in the neighbouring villages, not only refused to
listen to the missionary but also mocked him by pouring rice beer
on his head. Christians who gathered at the zawlbuk were beaten
by Thangkama, brother of Vanphunga in the presence of Rev. D.E.
Jones at which the missionary told him that he refused to recog­
nize any authority other than that of King Edward VII.43 When the
chief ’s representatives later came to meet the superintendent in
Aizawl, they were told that if the chief do not stop persecuting the
Christians, his chieftainship would be put to an end. Henceforth,
Vanphunga did not dare to carry on his persecution and stopped
hounding the Christians.44
It was made clear that unless they were ready to fight the Brit­
ish government, the chiefs could do nothing against the Christians
even if the Christians refused to follow customary rules. Rev. D.E.
Jones also wrote, ‘The chiefs soon found out that they dare not
injure the Christians without bringing down upon their heads the
punishment of government.’45 Therefore, persecution gradually
died down. In 1903, when the missionaries, Rev. J.H. Lorraine and
Rev. F.W. Savidge returned to Mizoram under the Baptist Mission­
ary Society, they wrote in their report that the opposition to the
gospel which at one time was strong had almost disappeared and
the people were willing to know more about their message.46 The
number of Christians increased considerably.
Though the extreme opposition was undemonstrative, opposi­
tion to the new wave of faith took the form of cultural upsurge,
which was termed by many as the ‘revival of heathen song’. In the
year 1908, an unprecedented movement began in north Mizoram,
called Puma Zai’ which was to sweep the whole Mizoram. The
Puma Zai was a zai (song) composed of a double-lined refrain of
any number of verses with an ambiguous appellation puma at the
end of the first line of every refrain47 and it was sung in a tradi­
tional tune.
Group singing had always been an important aspect in Mizo
522 Rohmingmawii

culture of festive singing and dancing. The Mizos have special

songs for every occasion, and public singing was usually accom­
panied by dancing which became livelier with a cup of rice beer,
which was always served. As mentioned earlier, due to its close
association with heathen practice, traditional songs and tunes,
along with drums, was forbidden by the missionaries for the Mizo
Christians, and so was drinking rice beer. The upsurge of Puma
Zai was thus a strong challenge to the new faith. It was ‘spreading
like wild fire’ under the auspices of the chiefs who declared public
holidays and prepared feasts for the whole village in honour of the
music. Rev. J.M. Lloyd described it quite clearly:
One of the severest tests came in 1908, when there was a sudden resur­
gence of heathenism. An old Lushai [Mizo] tune was set new words and
became immediately popular. The words were generally in praise of a
great chief [a chief who persecuted Christians]. It was reputed and by
many, to have been sung by a jungle spirit. It spread like wildfire to all
parts of the hills. Amazing manifestations of feeling accompanied the
singing almost as though the revival was parodied. Great feasts were held
during which the young men and girls danced in ecstasy. These demon­
strations were made in every village. The cause of Christ seemed doomed
in Lushai [Mizo]. The traveling preachers complained that preaching was
a burden. The Gospel was losing ground and no one wanted to listen to
it. It is significant to note that this ribald sprit and the popularity of this
song remained till the time of famine.48

The lamentation of Lloyd is understandable, as no one wanted

to listen to the gospel. The Puma Zai was greatly endorsed by
those chiefs who earned reputation as persecutors of Christians
in particular. This is one reason why the Zai was perceived by
many as anti-Christian. Though the Puma Zai was not primarily
anti-Christian in its content, it was a challenge to Christianity as
it represented something of a cultural revival that was denounced
by the new religion. The leaders of Puma Zai movement regarded
their movement as purely indigenous while Christianity was origi­
nally foreign.49 Thus, to some, it represented a reaction against the
new religion. Some even went to the extent of mocking the evange­
lists preaching in the streets in Puma Zai by dancing and singing:
 Early Response to Christianity in Mizoram 523

Lehkhabukengvailemchang
Chanchinsawirengrenga puma.
(Carrying book, imitating foreigners
Always proclaiming something, puma)50

Some spread rumours that all who acclaimed Puma Zai

would be ‘exempted from offering sacrifices to demons, and that
the dread spirits would in the future be appeased if such votaries
merely offered, when ill, a few hairs or feathers instead of the usual
sacrifices of animals and birds’; it was confidently affirmed that the
movement would silence the Christian hymns forever and stamp
out the new religion, as an easy means to attain healing and a
lighter form of sacrifices was offered to the people to be freed from
their spiritual bondage.51 C.L. Hminga felt that it was ‘definitely
launched as a measure to stop people from becoming Christian’. He
also maintains that the chiefs who were aware of the efficacy of the
Christian hymns tried to silence them by popularizing the Puma
Zai52 but it is probable that to the general masses, it represented
their yearning for their old system and practices which seems to
be increasingly out of date with the launching of the new religion.
The movement also showed that they were aware of the fact that
Christian message of healing without necessary costly sacrifices
had attracted the people and thus offered the promise of cheaper
token sacrifices of ‘a few hairs or feathers’ to counter-balance it.
Many Christians found it difficult to keep aloof from their
friends who were having a good time in the Puma Zai movement.
The church was, however, strict, and would discipline any mem­
ber who even hummed the Zai even unconsciously. A number of
Christians withdrew and returned to their old life because of this
movement.53
Puma Zai ended with the bamboo famine in 1912. Short lived
as it was, it provided occasion for the people to express their feel­
ings without having to fear reprisal from the government, unlike
in persecution. The pent-up feeling of the people was released
through songs in tune that was familiar to them but that was
beginning to wane because of the new faith. That is why it received
a loud applause from the people in all the villages.
524 Rohmingmawii

Conclusion
During the colonial period, the whole of Mizoram was swept
over by Christianity and a huge majority of the Mizos became
Christians. It is often said that the Mizos were easily persuaded to
embrace Christianity and they did so without much resistance. In
reality, the seed of Christianity was sown in the midst of physical
and mental persecution and adversity, and was not readily accepted
by the people.
The nature of opposition to the invading new religion was both
active and passive in Mizoram. The opposition was conspicuous in
the first decade of the twentieth century but all forms of resistance
ended in utter failure. The mission work was closely supported by
the government, and there is no doubt that the initial success of the
missionary work in the hills was indebted to help from the govern­
ment officials. The government showed favour to the mission work
since the first missionaries landed in Mizoram, by providing them
a secure place to establish themselves, and supporting their mis­
sion work, either directly or indirectly. It was made known to the
native people that though the missionaries were not as powerful
as the officials, they belonged to the conquering nation, and their
interest would be safeguarded. Thereafter, it became quite clear
to the native rulers that raising hand against the mission brought
them unpopularity in the sight of the rulers and that could be det­
rimental to their own interests. Gradually, the extreme opposition
died down and mission work began gaining ground. The growth of
the number of Christians in Mizoram was very remarkable espe­
cially after the revival of 1906, which continued till Christianity
pervaded the whole area. However, it was through the resurgence
of their traditional features in Puma Zai that the Mizos tried to
reclaim their space in the battle for cultural supremacy, and they
were able to wedge some chunks; yet political supremacy and the
tide of modernity favoured the stake of Christianity. Eventually,
the Mizos lost the battle. They became powerless as ‘the pillars
of their strength had tumbled down with shame and humiliation
before these new and irresistible British invaders’.54
 Early Response to Christianity in Mizoram 525

Notes
1. Animesh Ray, Mizoram, National Book Trust, New Delhi, 1993,
p. 42.
2. R.B. McCabe to the Secretary to C.C., Assam,19 January 1891. H/
Poll, CB. 1, F. No. 5, MSA, Aizawl.
3. Though in 1891, Rev. William Williams, a missionary among the
Khasis visited the Lushai Hills and preached the Gospel, it was in
1894 that the missionaries began to station in Mizoram.
4. Other mission works are relatively smaller and their influences were
also limited to certain areas or groups of people. For instance, the
Laker Pioneer Mission confined their work among one of the Mizo
clans, the Maras in the southernmost part of Mizoram.
5. Vanlalchhuanawma, Christianity and Subaltern Culture, ISPCK,
Delhi, 2006, p. 106.
6. The Annual Report of Baptist Missionary Society (BMS) on Mizoram,
1901-1938, published by Mizoram Gospel Centenary Committee,
Baptist Church of Mizoram Serkawn, 1993, p. 12.
7. Rev. Zairema, God’s Miracle in Mizoram A glimpse of Christian Work
among Head Hunters, A Synod Press and Bookroom, Mizoram,
1978, p. 22.
8. Lalhmuaka, Zoram History (written in Mizo), published by the
author, 1992, p. 156.
9. S.K. Chaube, Hill Politics in North East India, Orient Longman,
Patna, 1973 (revised 1999), pp. 47-8.
10. Rev. Zairema, op. cit., p. 23.
11. Since the teachers and church workers were one and the same, in the
curriculum, a prominent place was given to Biblical teaching. Other
subjects of elementary education were given secondary importance,
This is pointed out by J.V. Hluna in Church and Education in
Mizoram, Spectrum Publications, Guwahati, 1992 and Lalhmuaka,
Zoram Zirna Lam Chhinchhiahna (The Records of Zoram Education)
Tribal Research institute, Aizawl, 1981.
12. Rev. Zairema, op. cit., p. 22.
13. Vanlalchhuanawma, op. cit., p. 109.
14. The Annual Report of Baptist Missionary Society (BMS) on Mizoram,
op. cit., p. 110.
15. The Mizo concept of heaven; but this place is reserved only for those
who fulfilled the necessary requirement, that is thangchhuah, and it
is not for everyone.
526 Rohmingmawii

16. C.L. Hminga, The Life and Witness of the Churches in Mizoram, The
Literature Committee, Baptist Church of Mizoram, Serkawn, 1987,
p. 63.
17. ‘Hremhmun’ is a Mizo term coined to translate the English term ‘hell’,
and it literally means ‘place of punishment’.
18. Ibid., p. 62.
19. Other factors like colonial backup, situation of the Mizos who were
under pressure, etc., are also responsible but since it is beyond the
scope of our topic, it may not be discussed here.
20. This is one peculiar feature of Mizo Christians. As soon as they
became a Christian, they were eager to preach to non-believers,
so they travelled about preaching the gospel. This is probably one
reason for the rapid conversion of the whole tribe into Christianity.
21. Lalhmuaka, op. cit., p. 156.
22. Ibid., p. 81.
23. It is difficult to determine what sakhua meant to the Mizos in pre­
colonial times. Some writers like Pastor Saiaithanga in his Mizo,
Sakhua, maintained that the Mizo sakhua is simply the worship of
ramhuai, jungle spirit. European writers prefer to call them ‘animists’.
However, after careful analysis, Vanlalchhuanawma proposed that
the Mizos developed a definite idea of God called Pathian and of the
supernatural world (see Vanlalchhuanawma, op. cit., pp. 61-4).
24. Rev. Zairema, op. cit., p. 10.
25. Animesh Ray, op. cit., p. 133.
26. N.E. Parry, The Lakhers, Tribal Research Institute, Mizoram, 1932
(reprinted 1976), p. 21.
27. Frederick S. Downs, Essays on Christianity in North East India, Indus
Publishing Company, New Delhi, 1994, p. 28.
28. Ibid.
29. A.G. McCall, The Lushai Chrysalis, Tribal Research Institute, Dept.
of Art and Culture, Govt. of Mizoram, 1949 (reprinted 2003), p. 196.
30. Vanlalchhuanawma, op. cit., pp. 131-2.
31. Ibid., p. 131.
32. From D.E. Jones to Thomas dated Aijal, North Lushai Hills, 26 June
1899, as quoted in Hminga, op. cit., p. 59.
33. One example is that the chief ’s spouse in Khandaih had opposed
the Christians from the beginning and used to tell her husband
that since the Christians had close connection with the Saps, they
are a threat to his chiefdom. See J.V. Hluna, ‘Khandaih Harhna’, in
 Early Response to Christianity in Mizoram 527

Harhna, Mizoram Revival Centenary Souvenir (1906-2006), Synod

Revival Committee, 2006, p. 322.
34. S.L. Saihnuna, Reflections on the Centenial Church and the Mission
Paradigm in Mizoram, published by Mrs Nikungi, Lunglei, 2001,
p. 55. However, C.L. Hminga mentions that Thankunga could have
become the chief of the new Christian village if he was willing, but
he preferred to be an evangelist and he later became one of the first
pastors. Whatever has happened to the judgment is left to obscurity
so far.
35. Hminga, op. cit., p. 61.
36. Saihnuna, op. cit., p. 55.
37. Hminga, op. cit., p. 73.
38. Ibid., p. 62.
39. M. Suaka, on the recommendation of the District Superintendent,
Lt Col H.W.C. Cole, purchased Durtlang for making it a Christian
colony. See Saihnuna, op. cit., p. 93.
40. Hluna, Khandaih Harhna, op. cit., p. 323. ‘Thangchhuah is the top­
most position in the social ladder of the Mizos and very few could
attain it as the cost involved was extremely heavy. It demanded
foresight, sincere dedication, hard labour, selfless sacrifice, magna­
nimity and in summary, genuine tlawmngaihna on the thangchhuahpa
who became liberated from different kinds of restrictions in life and
from misery in the next world. It involved the whole society in all
the ceremonies and provided a spirit of joy, freedom, prosperity and
celebrity and all that religion or sakhua meant to the community.
In addition to earthly fame and honour, the thangchhuahpa was
supposed to be accompanied by the spirits of all the animals he had
killed on his way to pialral, Paradise, where he would receive a warm
welcome and enjoy all the comforts of life.’ (Vanlalchhuanawma,
op. cit., pp. 646-7.)
41. Hluna, Khandaih Harhna, op. cit., p. 323.
42. Ibid., pp. 322-31.
43. Ibid., p. 330.
44. Ibid., p. 331. ‘Vanchhunga, one of the first evangelists in the North
has a list of five chiefs who persecuted Christians most. They were
Vanphunga of Zawngin; Thangkama of Sihfa; Lalzika of Buhban;
Dorawta of Saitual; Lalruaia of Lailak.
45. Welsh Foreign Mission Report, 1906-7, p. xxxviii.
46. Annual Report of Baptist Mission Society, op. cit., p. 9.
528 Rohmingmawii

47. Vanlalchhuanawma, op. cit., pp. 180-1.

48. J.M. Lloyd, On Every High Hill, Welsh Mission, Liverpool, 1957,
pp. 54-5; Hminga, op. cit., p. 74.
49. Kipgen Mangkhosat, Christianity and Mizo Culture, Mizo
Theological Conference, Mizoram, 1996, p. 230.
50. Hminga, op. cit., p. 87.
51. J.M. Lorrain, South Lushai Mission Report, 1912; Kipgen, op. cit.,
p. 231.
52. Hminga, op. cit., pp. 86-7.
53. Rev. Zairema, op. cit., p. 18.
54. McCall, op. cit., p. 197.
 CHAPTER 21

Tribulations of the Catholic Mission in Mizoram

1925-1946

SANGKIMA

Christianity was ushered by Rev. James Herbert Lorrain and Rev.

Frederick W. Savidge, the missionaries sponsored by the Robert
Arthington Pioneer Mission of London, in Mizoram, then the
Lushai Hills, in 1894. However, before the coming of these two
missionaries, Rev. William Williams of Welsh Presbyterian
Mission, then the Welsh Calvinistic Methodist Foreign Mission,
had paid a flying visit to Mizoram in 1891 from Shillong with an
eye on a new mission field. But all hopes of making Mizoram a
new mission field went in vain when he died suddenly. Meanwhile,
the two missionaries had to leave Mizoram for their own reasons
and Rev. D.E. Jones of the Welsh Presbyterian Mission took
over the charge at their own request in 1897.1 Although the two
missionaries did not see much of the fruits of their four years of
labour, they really had prepared the groundwork for missionary
activities in Mizoram.
The history of the Catholic Mission in Mizoram provides a
long and interesting story. Though the mission had its first contact
with the Mizo in 1922, a few people founded the church on 1 Feb­
ruary 1925.2 Since then, the local faithful, together with the higher
authorities of the church from outside Mizoram, put strong pres­
sure on the provincial as well as the district authorities to allow the
Catholic mission to set up stations in Mizoram. But that permis­
sion was granted only after 31 long years of vigorous struggle. The
restriction was lifted only on 18 December 1946.3 The long delay
thus, did great harm to the mission, and the growth and progress
of the faith among the native people was severely hampered.
530 Sangkima

Meanwhile, it may be noted that in matters of religion, Indians

are a very sensitive lot and as a result, the country was a religiously
divided one. For this reason, the British government, after coming
to India, followed a strict policy of neutrality in religious matters.4
However, the government modified its policy towards the religions
in north-east India by utilizing the services of the missionaries.
The modification was possible only when the government was
fully convinced that there were no religious prejudices among
the hill tribes.5 Thus, the missionaries were granted help to open
schools for the native peoples. In this way, the government pro­
moted secular education with the aid of missionaries. The first
two commissioners of Assam, David Scott (1826-31) and Francis
Jenkins (1834-61), who were Evangelical Christians, made valu­
able contributions for this changed policy. ‘The fact that most of
the Hill Tribes in the North-East India were not under the influ­
ence of the traditional Hindu and Islam religions was the reason
for this change in British religious policy’.6
Now, with this background in view, an attempt has been made
in this paper to find out and explain the reasons why the Catholic
mission faced difficulties in its efforts to enter Mizoram and set
up a permanent footing. It is suspected that some agents played a
clandestine role. This is what we have to find out.
As noted earlier, the Catholic mission was a late starter in
Mizoram. Hence, the mission had to tackle the problems created
by the government and the Protestant denominations already
working in Mizoram. To destabilize the proposed coming and
working of Catholic mission in Mizoram, the colonial powers
introduced a biased and one-sided religious policy. Their policy
was ‘one mission in one area’. The same policy had been applied
among the Khasis for the same reason.7 The policy was considered
as an exceptional measure to deal with the intractable tribes of
the Mizo. Taking this policy as a guiding principle, the govern­
ment adopted a religious policy not allowing two missions to
work in one area on the plea that there would be religious quar­
rels. This proposition has, however, no relevance because a close
review of the British policy statements on religion hardly reveals
 Tribulations of the Catholic Mission in Mizoram 531

that the British government adopted a particular measure against

the Catholic mission in Mizoram. Yet, the provincial as well as the
district authorities adopted an anti-Catholic policy in Mizoram.
Therefore, refusal to admit the Catholic mission in Mizoram was
not ‘God’s providence’8 but the creation of the British authorities
concerned with clandestine influences of the Protestant denomi­
nations.
The British religious policy was vividly and unequivocally
revealed by her Majesty Queen Victoria in her Proclamation of
1858.9
Firmly relying ourselves on the truth of Christianity and acknowledging
with gratitude the solace of religion, we disclaim alike the Right and the
Desire to impose our Convictions on any of our subjects. We declare it
to be our Royal Will and Pleasure that none be in anyway favoured, none
molested, or distrusted, by reason of their Religious Faith of Observances,
but that all shall alike enjoy the equal and impartial protection of the law;
and We do strictly charge and enjoin all those who may be in authority
under us, that they abstain from all interference with the Religious Beliefs
or Worship of any of our subjects, on pain of our highest displeasure.
From this Proclamation, it appears that the British admin­
istration imposing restrictions on Catholic mission in Mizoram
obviously violated the spirit of the Proclamation itself. Meanwhile,
the other two policy statements namely ‘Religion in the Lushai
Hills’ and ‘Relationship between Missions, Lushai Churches and
the Administration’ are also completely silent about the discrimi­
nation of one particular denomination. These policy statements
were formulated by the commissioner, Surma Valley and Hill Divi­
sion.10 However, the Hill Officers’ Conference held at Shillong on
21 July 1937 on the subject, ‘Relations with Mission’, passed 10 res­
olutions. The Resolution No. 4 reads: ‘Resolved that since there are
missions in any hill district it is undesirable that any other should
be allowed.’11 The commissioner, communicating the proceedings
to the superintendent, Lushai Hills, made a specific remark on the
resolution as: ‘His Excellency is not prepared to issue orders on
this and will consider each specific case on its merits.’12 The term
itself as expressed is neither conditional nor imposing. Whatever
532 Sangkima

might be the case, the indifferent attitudes of the provincial gov­

ernment as well as the district administration towards the Catholic
church were arbitrary in nature.
Thus, from the preceding discussion, we can now envisage the
position of the government on the Catholic mission. The govern­
ment’s partialities against the Catholic Mission were obviously
witnessed when the priest visited Mizoram on 22 August 1925.
Thangphunga, the leader of the newly founded Catholic Church
and a circle interpreter in the office of the superintendent, was sent
away from Aizawl town and repeatedly warned not to propagate the
teachings of the Catholic church in and outside the office. Besides,
Thangphunga alleged that the superintendent strictly watched
over him and always asked whether he got remuneration from the
Catholic mission.13 One day, just a day after his return from a tour,
Thangphunga was summoned by N.E. Perry, the superintendent,
at his office and warned him not to preach the Catholic faith while
touring. The superintendent did this on the basis of the informa­
tion he received from the pastor of Reiek. Thangphunga was also
directed to meet Rev. E.L. Mendus, a Presbyterian missionary, at
his bungalow the next morning (16.12.1925). Thangphunga fur­
ther remarks: ‘So the Superintendent ordered me not to preach the
gospel and the rules of the Catholic Church in my Circle even if
anyone ask me the same.’14 For this act of hostility, Thangphunga
requested Fr Boulay to make room for him so that he could resign
from service at any convenient moment.
About this time, Fr Boulay was visiting Akyab. Soon after
his return from the visit, some disgruntled elements circulated a
rumour that Fr Boulay had baptized some 20,000 men. Naturally,
this created ill feeling and problems among the Protestants in
Mizoram.15 The news was published in the paper called Universe,
dated Friday, 13 November 1925. The Protestants accused Fr Bou­
lay as having a hand in the publication. Informing about it to Fr
Boulay, Lalhuta writes: ‘If you had not seen the newspaper you
may ask from Rev. D.E. Jones, Aijal’.16 In another letter, Lalhuta
writes, ‘Suppose you might come again, the Welsh mission will
request again the superintendent to hinder you to go out of the
 Tribulations of the Catholic Mission in Mizoram 533

station. Therefore, you must also take permission for going out to
some other villages.’17
After Fr Boulay’s visit, the Welsh mission attacked the Catho­
lics more than ever. The attacks were chiefly channeled through
their monthly Christian newspaper called Kristian Tlangau. In
one of the issues in 1926, for instance, out of the total pages of
twelve, seven were devoted to the Catholic Church and its teach­
ings. The same words were also printed in pamphlet form and
distributed free of cost.18 The efforts appear to be working because
the progress of the Catholic Church was sluggishly slowed and
as a result, some of them left the church.19 The uncompromising
attitudes of both the groups also sometimes led to hot discussions
over the teachings of the Catholic church. Lalhuta writes: ‘One day,
Chhuahkhama Pastor and Liangkhaia Pastor, Hranga Pastor and
some other deacons came to me to compare Roman Catholic and
the Protestants. I was very pleased because I can have a chance to
meet them face to face. But the conversation could not be sweet
because they talked too much lies.’20
The Welsh mission was accused of adopting a measure to
hinder the growth of the Catholic Church. According to this accu­
sation, the missionaries supported the dependents of the chiefs by
giving them free education at schools. In this way, the Welsh mis­
sionaries reportedly induced the chiefs to hate the Catholics.21 This
policy, too, appears to have been working.
The threat to the Catholic mission in Mizoram was also noted
by Rev. D.E. Jones when he wrote: ‘We have another shock lately.
Several men from a village eight miles away, from among the
Salvation Army people near here, have been down to Chittagong
asking the Roman Catholic fathers to come and begin work in the
country.…’22
Wenger reported that the leaders of the Mizo church were
aware of the danger of the Catholic mission and made the people
well-informed enough to be able to stand against all threats and
persecutions.23 Also, when the priest visited Mizoram in 1925, the
Welsh missionaries panicked and took necessary measures to check
possible inroads of the Catholic church by presenting Catholism
534 Sangkima

‘as if it were un-gospel-like and un-Christian’.24 They also made

efforts by way of countering the Catholic menace to occupy as
many villages as possible with schools, for villages without schools
would give the Catholic mission the necessary openings to start
their work. Convinced that it alone would not be able to combat
the Catholic mission who had enormous resources, the Welsh
mission joined hands with the Assam Baptist Mission in opposing
the Catholic movement in the Northeast.25 That the government
would give the Catholic mission permission to work in Mizoram
was the fear that prevailed among the Welsh missionaries.26
A decade is a long period of time for those who are waiting
anxiously. Ten years was long enough for the Catholics to see the
priest for the second time in Mizoram. The successive priests knew
what they should do to their flocks in Mizoram. They had to sac­
rifice even their own life and liberty for them. This is the point
which no priest with any conscience can evade and this is the point
where the priests must stand. But due to opposition they could not
do much. During this intervening period, the priests kept writing
letters to the government entreating for permissions. Fr Boulay
knew well that the commissioner was the key point in securing
permission. Therefore, he was determined in his attempt to obtain
what he called ‘justice’. This led to the subsequent rise of tension
between them when Fr Boulay was accused of asking ‘official rec­
ognition and encouragement’27 from the government. In reply, he
said that he did not need such encouragement because the same
was already provided in the Queen’s Proclamation of 1858. He told
the Commissioner in clear terms and said, ‘We shall surely move
heaven and earth to obtain justice.’28 He also asked for a personal
interview with him at Silchar. His prayer was granted and in his
interview on 19 January 1927, Fr Boulay told the commissioner
clearly of his aims with the Mizo Catholic Christians and the latter
appeared to have been convinced when he writes:
After our conversation a day or two ago I have suggested to the Assam
Government that it might be well to revise the whole situation with
regard to Missions and the standing orders of Government about them.
This will of course, apply to the whole Province and not to the Lushai
Hills only. Whether anything will come to this I am, of course, unable to
 Tribulations of the Catholic Mission in Mizoram 535

say but the consideration is likely to take some time. I was very grateful
for the opportunity you gave me of discussing with you personally your
aims with regard to the Lushai Hills.29
The interviews, however, produced no tangible result. The
government remained stringent as ever before. When the Bishop
asked for permission from the Government of Assam in 1931, the
chief secretary reminded him of the earlier decision of the central
government not allowing the Catholic mission to work in Mizoram
and said that if one mission was allowed at the present time,
even Hindu Mahasabha and Muslims would also certainly follow
suit.30
Despite the avowed assertion of the government, the local
leaders did not give up hope. They persisted in their relentless
efforts to secure the permission from the Government of Assam.
Therefore, as a step for the fulfilment of their cherished goal, in
1939, a memorandum31 was submitted to the Governor of Assam
through the Superintendent, Lushai Hills. To the exultation of the
leaders, the memorandum31 was forwarded and the leaders thus
deputed Siamliana and Zalawma to pursue the matter and meet
the governor himself at Shillong. They were given Rs. 45 to meet
their travel expenses. They were sent as advised by the assistant
superintendent of the Lushai Hills who also promised to do the
needful even at the risk of standing before the governor. The
inspector general of police, Assam whom Siamliana knew per­
sonally was also visited. He, too, promised them to help in any
possible way he could. Even the help of Leo Herrick Singh was
sought to provide them with food and other resources.32 They
treated the matter as urgent because they should have apprised
the governor of the situation before he finalized the case. Unfortu­
nately, however, they were detained at Badarpur. The petition was
also withheld by the commissioner.33 This was communicated to
the leaders officially.34 Meanwhile, the Welsh mission, taking stock
of the situation, opened more schools in the villages where they
had no schools before. This strategy was spelled out to destabilize
the inroads of the Catholic mission, which was likely to come out
at any time.
In 1934, Thangphunga and Chawnga again submitted a peti­
536 Sangkima

tion to the governor imploring him for the permission to visit

Mizoram by the Catholic mission. The petition was considered and
to this effect, the superintendent, in accordance with the instruc­
tions he received from the commissioner issued order, thereby
requesting the head of the Catholic Church in whose jurisdiction
the petitioner resided to submit a formal application giving par­
ticulars of the visiting priest.35 In response, the bishop, sparing no
time, submitted a formal application by telegram on 24 August
1935, and the same was granted without any further delay.
Ever since the 1935 visit, the government was expected to
relax the restrictions imposed upon the Catholic missionaries to
Mizoram. On the contrary, the government maintained status quo
thus upsetting the whole plan formulated for Mizoram including
the tour programme in which 20 villages were listed out for a visit.36
Also, the Second World War deeply hampered the programme of
the Catholic church in Mizoram. During the War, the priests had
to confine themselves at their respective stations in case of unprec­
edented happenings.
When the war was over, a new ray of hope dawned again for
the church. This time, the leaders, with a renewed will, rolled
up their sleeves with a view to removing the restriction. Hence,
in the beginning of 1946, a short petition was submitted to the
superintendent praying him to allow the Catholic priests to have
a permanent station in Mizoram. The petition was signed by eight
persons.37 In his reply, Macdonald, the superintendent, writes:
‘Foreign missionaries cannot enter the Lushai Hills without the
permission of His Excellency the Governor. Though this petition
is not altogether clear to me, I think, this is probably a sufficient
answer to it—Returned.’38
Reading the content of the Superintendent’s letter, the lead­
ers thus felt the need to submit a fresh petition to the governor of
Assam in a more meaningful and effective way. Thus, in 1946 they
had a census of the Catholics and catechumens in Mizoram and
they were 1,172 in number. With the signatures of these members,
a fresh memorandum was submitted to the governor of Assam on
13 September 1946, thereby stressing the hardships they had been
 Tribulations of the Catholic Mission in Mizoram 537

suffering for the last twenty years due to non-availability of priests

to administer their spiritual needs.39 The copy of which was sent
to Fr Bianchi, secretary to the bishop of Shillong for information.
The memorandum was forwarded by MacDonald, the superin­
tendent, with strong objections: ‘Forwarded—I strongly opposed
any admission of Foreign Roman Catholic Missionaries into the
Lushai Hills.’40 Fortunately, however, the governor of Assam, Sir
Andrew Gourlay Clow, was succeeded by Sir Henry Knight for
a short period. His secretary R.W. Godfrey, a Catholic, was very
helpful. Rev. Fr Bianchi, the bishop’s secretary was a good friend
of Godfrey’s. The combination of these two persons was found to
be very effective in getting the permission. To the surprise and
intense joy of the people, the governor thus removed the restric­
tion with immediate effect in 1946. The order was passed on 15
December 1946, but officially it was issued on 18 December 1946.
The secretary thus informed Fr Bianchi with the following letter:
‘I am directed to inform you that His Excellency the Governor has
passed orders to the effect that there is no bar to the Catholic mis­
sionaries residing in the Lushai Hills and ministering to the people
of their faith.’41
As soon as the prohibition was lifted, the bishop of Chittagong
appointed Fr A. de Montigny and Fr Roberts Lavoie to go to Aizawl
and survey the place. R.W. Godfrey also instructed the superinten­
dent, Lushai Hills, to issue an Inner Line Pass for the two visiting
priests. The priests, accompanied by one servant proceeded on
13 January 1947. From the comment of Fr de Montigny it appears
that the journey was terribly fraught. ‘Only the real love for souls
keeps our courage up.’42 They reached Aizawl on 14 January.
On 13 January, the superintendent informed Thangphunga
through Sainghinga to collect all his followers and come to his
residence, now Raj Bhavan, the next day. When a good number
of the faithful turned up on 14 January, the superintendent deliv­
ered a very long lecture on the possible impact of the visit. He also
discouraged them not to embrace Catholicism. It is reported that
one of them, named Sweeti (Sui), stood up and questioned the
superintendent. The session was a long one. It was started about
538 Sangkima

11 in the morning and it was dark when it ended.43 By the time

the meeting was over, the two priests entered the town, and they
were directed to proceed straight to the superintendent’s residence
where they saw the two Welsh missionaries waiting for them. It
is also reported that they were at the table till late night discuss­
ing the manner in which the priests visited Mizoram. Though the
details of the discussions were not revealed, the session was long
and acrimonious. After their return, Fr Montigny, reported to Fr
Bianchi:
I better not mention what we said, but I could surely assure you that our
coming was most undesirable in their opinion, but we did try our best to
convince them as politely as possible that owing to that great principle
of freedom of conscience, no one could stop us from staying among our
flock and moreover, owing to the kind permission of His Excellency, the
Governor, we had been allowed not only to come but even to reside in
the Lushai Hills.44

The thaw seemed to be short-lived for the Catholics, for some

sections of the people continued the fight to dislodge the per­
mission. To boost up their expectations, the governor, who had
previously withheld permission to the Catholic priests, returned
to Shillong. The Welsh mission did not sit idle either. They sent
two men to Shillong to pursue the matter and brought with them
two important documents. One was the superintendent’s letter of
objection towards allowing the Catholic missionaries to settle in
Mizoram. The second document was the Mizo Union Party’s reso­
lution refusing admission of missionaries other than the Welsh and
Baptist missions.45 Due to this pressure, the governor was about to
alter the order. But owing to the interventions of the bishop and
other high profile personalities, the order remained intact. With
this, the threat was over for good.
Finally, the bishop of Chittagong appointed Rev. Fr George
Breen, in-charge of Mizoram, to be assisted by Rev. Brother Gilbert
Boucher. The two missionaries took up the assignment and came
to Aizawl on 15 April 1947. Temporary shacks were constructed
for them at the site of the present church—Christ The King
Cathedral, Kulikawn. Col Warman, the commandant, supplied
 Tribulations of the Catholic Mission in Mizoram 539

them with two tarpaulins for the roof. In 1948, construction of the
church began and it was completed in the same year. So, the faith
came to stay in Mizoram.

Conclusion
To establish the Catholic mission in Mizoram was not easy.
There was strong opposition from the government, particularly
from the district administration. The main reason put forth by
the government was that there would be overlapping areas of
operation. The Protestant denominations also covertly joined
hands with the government in obstructing entry to the Catholic
mission in Mizoram. The attack was more from the Welsh mission
than the Baptist of South Mizoram. There is no evidence to prove
that there was serious opposition to the Catholic mission from the
Baptist. The proven fact is that one of the aspirants for the catechist
was strongly recommended by J.H. Lorrain, the Baptist missionary
at Serkawn, Lunglei.
The government policy towards the Catholic mission in
Mizoram was a clear violation of the 1858 Proclamation, which
says that no religious denomination was favoured within the Brit­
ish Empire. Still, the resolution no. 4 of the Officers’ Conference
in 1937 was a further breach of the religious freedom granted by
the proclamation. The restriction imposed upon the Catholic mis­
sion in Mizoram before the Officers’ Conference is by no means
understandable on the ground that the government had made no
particular statement on religion before other than the resolution
of the conference. The permission granted to the Catholic mission
for a permanent residence in Mizoram by the governor of Assam is
yet another indication that there was no religious policy prohibit­
ing one particular religion anywhere in India.
Thus, whatever might have been the policy of the government,
the fact is that had it not imposed curbs on the Catholic church,
and had the priests been allowed to settle in Mizoram in the begin­
ning of 1925, the history of Christianity, in general, and that of
the Catholic church, in particular, would have been quite differ­
ent from the present. Sharing this view, C.L. Hminga noted, ‘Had
540 Sangkima

they [the British administration] allowed them [Roman Catholic

Mission] the story would have been very different from what I am
telling [the reader] now.’46

Notes
1. Welsh Foreign Mission Report of 1897.
2. Peter Thangphunga, ‘Mizorama Katholik Lo Chhuah Dan Leh
A Awm Zel Dante Tlem Tlema Lawrkhawm (A Brief Account
of the beginning and growth of Catholic Church in Mizoram)’
(Unpublished Typed Manuscript) 1952, p. 1.
3. Letter No. EXZL/34.45/10-GS of 18 December 1946.
4. George Maliekel, History of the Catholic Church Among the Khasis,
Sacred Heart Theological College, 2005, Shillong, p. 70.
5. Ibid., p. 71.
6. Ibid., p. 72.
7. Nalini Natarajan, The Missionary Among the Khasis, Sterling
Publishers, New Delhi, 1977, p. 73.
8. C.L. Hminga, The Life And Witness of the Churches In Mizoram, GLS
Press, Bombay, 1987, p. 159.
9. The Calcutta Gazette. Extraordinary, dated Monday, 1 November
1858.
10. G.D. Walker, commissioner, Surma Valley & Hill Division to the
Suptd., Lushai Hills, Memo No. 2680-82-GD/6 August 1938.
11. Proceedings of the Hill Officers’ Conference. Memo No. 3348-50-G.S.
dated Shillong, 26 July 1935. From J.P. Mills Secretary to Governor of
Assam to the Commissioner, Surma Valley & Hill Division.
12. From G.D. Walker, Commissioner Surma Valley & Hill Division, to
the Superintendent, Lushai Hills, Memo No. 2680-82-GD/August
1925.
13. A Letter of Thangphunga to Fr. Boulay, Aijal, 15 December 1925.
14. Ibid.
15. Mathew Laldailova, publication details?, p. 54.
16. A Letter of Lalhuta Sailo to Fr Boulay, Aijal, 21 December 1925.
17. Ibid., Aijal, 16 June 1926.
18. Kristian Tlangau (Christian Herald) kum XV, Bu No. 175, April
1926.
19. A Letter of Lalhuta Sailo Fr Boulay, Aijal, 16 June 1926.
20. Ibid.
 Tribulations of the Catholic Mission in Mizoram 541

21. Ibid.
22. A Letter of D.E. Jones to Mr. Morris, 10 November 1925 (Quoted
from The Life and Witness of the Churches In Mizoram by Rev. Dr
C.L. Hminga, p. 155).
23. Baptist Mission Society, Printed Report for 1926 (Quoted from
The Life and Witnesses of the Churches In Mizoram, by Rev. Dr. C.L.
Hminga, 1987, pp. 158-9).
24. Dena, Lal, Christian Missions and Colonialism, Vendrame Institute,
Shillong, 1988, p. 6.
25. Ibid.
26. Ibid.
27. A Letter of Fr Boulay to A.H.W. Bentick, Commissioner Surma
Valley & Hill Division Chittagong, 8 January 1927.
28. A Letter of A.H.W. Bentick, Commissioner Surma Valley & Hill
Division, Silchar No. 35G of 5 January 1927.
29. A Letter of A. Bentick, Commissioner of Surma Valley & Hill
Division to Fr Boulay, Chittagong, Silchar, 21 January 1927.
30. A Letter of W.A. Cosgrave, Chief Secretary to the Government
of Assam to Right Rev. Mrgn. Le Pailleur, Bishop of Chittagong,
No. Pol. 864/2337 A.P. Shillong, 11 April 1931.
31. Memorial submitted to His Excellency, Michael Keane, Governor of
Assam, 9 June 1933.
32. A Letter of Thangphunga and John Chawnga to Fr. L. Goggin, Aijal,
13 November 1933.
33. From W.L. Scott, Offg. Commissioner, Surma Valley & Hill Division
to Superintendent Lushai Hills, No. 2732G of 2 October 1934.
34. Letter of Suptd., Lushai Hills No.1724 G/16 of 10 October 1934.
35. Superintendent, Lushai Hills Order Memo. No.1359-G111-16, Aijal,
2 August 1935.
36. A copy of Draft Tour Programme of Rev. Fr L. Goggin, Chaplain
for Syhlet, Cachar and Lushai Hills for the month of October and
November, 1936.
37. A copy of Petition of the Catholic leaders submitted to the
Superintendent, 12 August 1946.
38. Superintendent Lushai Hills, No.3505 G/Orgl. 7 September 1946.
39. A copy for petition submitted to His Excellency the Governor of
Assam, 3 September 1946.
40. Superintendent Lushai Hills, No. 3505 G/Orgl. 7 September 1946.
41. Letter No. EXZL/34.45/10-G.S. of 18 December 1946.
542 Sangkima

42. Telegram Copy sent by R.W. Godfrey, Secretary to the Governor

of Assam, to Superintendent, Lushai Hills No. 1470G of 12 January
1947.
43. Thangphunga; unpublished mss, p. 14.
44. A Letter of Fr Montigny to Fr Bianchi, Badarpur, 27 January 1947.
45. Thangphunga, unpublished mss., p. 16.
46. Hminga, op. cit.
 CHAPTER 22

Colonial State, Christian Missionaries and the

Politics of Persuasion in Early Nineteenth-
Century Bengal
SANTANU SARKAR*

This is now well-accepted that in hegemony power is not exercised

by the ruler upon the subordinate through the means of coercion
only; rather it is persuasion which is mainly used to create
hegemony over the subject. It is also known to us that the history
of colonial India is replete with instances of the use of the coercive
mode of power exercised by the British ruler. The objective of this
paper is not to discuss the coercion, but highlight the instrument
of persuasion utilized by the British to legitimize and consolidate
their rule over India in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth
centuries and the role of Christian missionaries in it with special
reference to the province of Bengal.
It is now a commonplace proposition that the capitalist state
is not always coercive; it can persuade its people to collaborate in
its rule. In short, the capitalist state has its hegemony. But as far as
the colonial domination is concerned, many literatures rule out
the possibility of such a hegemony. They viewed the colonial state
always as a coercive state. Collaboration by the colonized people is
viewed either as an aberration (betrayals by the lackeys of colonial
power) or as a myth produced by the colonizer. This underesti­
mates the strength of colonial power and misses out on how the
*I am thankful to Sibashish Bandyopadhyay for providing me the
preliminary idea of this paper through one of his papers published in
Bangla Academy Journal, West Bengal.
544 Santanu Sarkar

colonial power reaches into the minds of the colonized people and
tries to reform (or rather deform) them into the end product, the
‘colonial mind’.
The theoretical discourses on the concept of power and hege­
mony have tried to demonstrate that the mode of persuasion
appropriated the ideology of the subaltern and hegemonized it as
a policy of rule. The ruler has always tried to construct the ideol­
ogy of the subaltern. If we look at the history of colonial India we
can also see that the British also tried the same modus operendi
on the Indian people and it was the Christian missionaries who
helped them in this project. This paper shows how the missionar­
ies had contributed in this project of consolidation of power of the
colonizers through the means of persuasion.
In his writings, Antonio Gramsci tried to show that the state
should not be reduced to the repressive state apparatus but it
includes a certain number of institutions from ‘civil society’ like
the church, and the schools. After Gramsci, Louis Althusser had
shown that other than the repressive state apparatuses (like mili­
tary, police, jurisprudence) there are other ideological apparatuses
(like the religious institution, educational institution, etc.) which
are used by the ruler to legitimize their rule over their subjects.
Althusser wrote,
In order to advance the theory of the State it is indispensable to take into
account not only the distinction between State power and State appara­
tus, but also another reality which is clearly on the side of the (repressive)
State apparatus, but must not be confused with it. I shall call this reality
by its concept: the ideological State apparatuses.1
… I shall call ideological state apparatuses a certain number of reali­
ties which present themselves to the immediate observer in the form of
distinct and specialized institution … we can for the moment regard the
following institutions as ideological state apparatuses…
• the religious ISA (the system of the different churches),
• the educational ISA (the system of the different public and private
‘schools’)
• the family ISA,
• the legal ISA,
• the political ISA (the political system, including the different political
parties).…2
 Colonial State, Christian Missionaries 545

These are the means of persuasion. To legitimize the rule of

colonizers the British Christian missionaries also used some of
these ideological apparatuses, mainly the church and the school.
Here we shall show how the missionaries supported the coloniz­
ers structurally as well as ideologically to expand and consolidate
their power over their subjects through the means of persuasion.
The East India Company had been carrying on trade with India
from the beginning of the seventeenth century. Settlements were
established and territories acquired. There was a regular stream of
soldiers, sailors, civilians, merchants and adventurers from Britain
coming to India for nearly 200 years, but few missionaries had
been sent out by Britain.
The East India company was cautious in its attitude towards mission­
ary work until 1813, lest it should antagonize Indians, either Hindus or
Muslims. It scrupulously followed a policy of non-interference in the
religious affairs of the people and deliberately discouraged the work of
missionaries in the territories of company.3

One of the Directors of Company from London once remarked

that ‘he would rather see a band of devils in India than a band of
missionaries’.4 The policymakers of the Company thought that if
they did not interfere in the religious beliefs of the Indians, they
could readily gain the confidence of the natives. To facilitate this
they not only restricted themselves from interfering with the
religious belief of the natives, they had established the Calcutta
Madrasa in 1780 and the Benares Sanskrit College in 1792. To
prove themselves pro-native sometime they also used to join local
religious festivals. William Ward, a missionary from Serampore
mission, had written in his journal that after the defeat of Tipu
Sultan, ‘a deputation from the government went in procession to
Kalee Ghaut, the most opulent and popular shrine of metropolis
and presented 5,000 rupees to the idol in the name of the Com­
pany, for the success which had alluded the British arms’.5 In a
letter to Lord Cornwallis, Jonathan Duncan, the then Resident of
Benares, wrote that the establishment of Sanskrit College would
be helpful to the British, because when the Hindus would see that
the government had more interest in the philosophy and religious
546 Santanu Sarkar

texts of the Indians than the local monarch or ruler, then respect
for the British ruler of Hindus would be increased.6
The Company was worried that the missionaries would spoil
their colonial project by interfering in the cultural life of the Indi­
ans, and thereby inciting rebellion. Therefore, they introduced the
licence system and passed a law to prohibit the missionaries from
coming within the company territory in India. The law provided
that
be it further enacted, that if any subject or subjects of his majesty, etc.,
not being lawfully licensed or authorized, shall at any time or times, etc.,
directly or indirectly, go sail or repair to or be found in the east India,
or any of the parts foresaid, all and every such person and persons, are
hereby declared to be guilty of a high crime and misdemeanour; and
being convicted thereof, shall be liable to such fine or imprisonment, or
both fine and imprisonment, as the count in which such person or per­
sons shall be convicted, shall think fit.7

It is a matter of curiosity that at this point of time the mis­

sionary was co-opted in the imperial project of the British in
India. When Halhed wrote his Bengali grammar to learn Bengali
language for the Company civilians during the time of Warren
Hastings, he emphasized in the introduction of the book that, ‘we
may reasonably presume, that one of its most important desiderata
is the cultivation of a right understanding and a general medium
of intercourse between the natives of Europe who are to rule, and
the inhabitants of India who are to obey’.
To make this project of ‘who are to rule’ and ‘who are to obey’
successful through the ‘right understanding’, ‘between govern­
ment and its subjects’, Lord Wellesley had established Fort William
College in 1800, where the civilians from Britain used to learn the
vernacular and the culture of India. This college became the insti­
tution, which brought missionaries and administrators together.
A missionary from Serampore Mission, William Carey was
appointed as a teacher of Bengali and Sanskrit at this college. Wil­
liam Carey and the Serampore Mission as a whole had contributed
a lot to the persuasion policy of company.
The renewal of the Charter of East India Company was due
 Colonial State, Christian Missionaries 547

in the year 1793. When the discussion was on about the Charter,
William Wilberforce, member of the British parliament, one of the
directors of the Company, and, more important, a representative
of the evangelists, proposed the withdrawal of the prohibition of
missionary activities in the territories of the Company. But the
majority of the directors were against it, so it was rejected. But
after 20 years, when the discussion about the Charter started
again, Wilberforce was successful and the prohibition was with­
drawn. The person who was instrumental in pursuing his proposal
through was Charles Grant.
Charles Grant was an evangelist priest of the Clapham Sect
and first came to India in 1767 to serve in the military. He returned
to England in 1770 but came back to India in 1773 as an officer of
the Company. He finally returned to England in 1790 with enor­
mous wealth from India. He and John Shore played a major role
in the implementation of the Permanent Settlement of Lord Corn­
wallis. Grant joined British parliament in 1802 and had become
the Chairman of East India Company by 1805. In 1786, when he
was in India, he took initiative for the promotion of Christianity in
India. He brought out a booklet entitled A Proposal for Establishing
a Protestant Mission in Bengal and Bihar for the purpose, which
was distributed among the natives. But Lord Cornwallis did not
approve of the project. After returning from India, Grant wrote a
monograph named, Observations on the State of Society Among the
Asiatic Subjects of great Britain, Particularly with Respect to Morals
and On the Means of Approving It. This monograph played a major
role in changing the policy of the directors of Company about the
missionary activities within company’s territory. The representa­
tive of the evangelists, Wilberforce placed his arguments before
the directors, citing from Grant’s monograph only. To understand
the nature of his argumentation, the philosophy of evangelism has
to be understood.
After the industrial revolution in England, with the change
of economic structure, the ethical and ideological spheres also
changed a lot. In the first phase, the education of Wesley brothers
and Whitfield and the campaign of the Methodist Church helped
to construct a new ethical value amongst the society. In the second
548 Santanu Sarkar

phase of the late eighteenth century, the Methodist theology was

summed up in ‘evangelical revivalism’. It became a very powerful
‘pure’ theology of Christianity at that time which was introduced
by the Clapham sect. John Shore and Charles Grant both belonged
to this sect.
One of the main propositions, on which the evangelicals con­
structed their theory, is the idea of ‘conversion’. They believed that
an unexpected and radical ‘enlightening’ moment might come to a
man’s life, which could change the person completely. This divine
experience would help him to overcome the ‘ignorance’ of life. If a
man felt that he was not liberated in the true sense, it implied that
he was still under the sway of his heathen instincts and supersti­
tions. He would be awakened from his long ignorance and start a
new life that may lead him to God only after this divine experience.
And after that the man would lose his/her earlier identity totally. If
a man has to be free from his past sins, then he has to engage with
God individually. After repentance the sinful human conscious can
awaken. Only then can he achieve self-empowerment. Even after
that, if a human being does not keep his soul pure by the means
of prayer and practice (work), then gradually he will lose his new,
enlightened experience and relapse into superstition. Therefore, if
one needed the grace of God, he had to share and spread his divine/
enlightened experience to other ignorant/heathen people of the
world. So other than the practice of religious belief, propaganda
and preaching had a major role in evangelist theory. That is why ‘to
evangelise the poor dark, idolatrous heathen, by sending mission­
aries in different parts of the world not blessed with the glorious
light of the Gospel’,8 in 1792, ‘The Particular Baptist Society for
propagating the gospel amongst the heathens’ was established at
Kettering on the outskirts of London. William Carey belonged to
this organization. In its first meeting on 2 October 1792, its objec­
tive was unanimously decided that it will ‘Humbly desirous of
making an effort for the propagation of the Gospel amongst the
Heathens, according to the recommendation of Carey’s Enquiry,
we unanimously resolve to act in society together for the purpose;
and as in the state Christiandom each denomination, by exerting
itself separately, seems likeliest to accomplish the great end, we
 Colonial State, Christian Missionaries 549

name this the Particular Baptist Society for propagating the Gos­
pel amongst the heathens’.9
The evangelists believed that the ‘ignorant’ people needed
some education. The Evangelists and Methodists both thought
that conversion needed at least some working knowledge about
the Bible. They thought that God’s silent wish/scheme was reflected
through the history of mankind and civilization, and the British
rule over India was nothing but a wish of God coming true. The
divine intention was that, delivering power must be exercised with
responsibility. It was the responsibility of the British to free the
millions of ignorant natives from the heathen superstitions. This is
what was said by Charles Grant in his monograph.
Grant summed up the laws, art and rituals of Hindus as full
of superstition. The lifestyle/civilization/culture of the Hindus was
underdeveloped due to their moral degradation. The hegemony
of the Brahmins was the main obstruction in the awakening of
the indigenous population. Introducing some reforms in Hindu
laws would not be able to alter the situation, only radical change of
the Hindu mind and character would transform their lives. Only
education could free them from their superstitions. If education
freed them from their ignorance and illusion, that will pave the
way to their conversion to Christianity.
The Evangelist strategy was designed so as not to incite any
political or social unrest in India; rather it would free the Indians
from their ‘heathen practices’. He stated that first it was necessary
to lessen all kinds of differences—linguistic, religious, and ritual-
istic—between the Indians and British. It was the responsibility of
the British to ‘make’ the Indians like Englishmen.
Grant’s perception of Mission Education within the Evangeli­
cal system was part of his belief in political reform along Christian
lines and partly an awareness that the expansion of Company rule
in India required a system of ‘interpellation’—a reform of man­
ners, as grant put it that would provide the colonial with ‘a sense
of personal identity as we know it’. Caught between the desire for
religious reform and the fear that the Indians might become rebel­
lious, Grant implied that it was, in fact the ‘partial’ diffusion of
Christianity, and ‘partial’ influence of moral improvements that
550 Santanu Sarkar

would construct a particularly appropriate form of colonial sub­

jectivity. Grant produced knowledge of Christianity as a form of
social control. He was sanguine that ‘partial reform’ will produce
an empty form of ‘the imitation of English manners which will
induce them (the colonial subjects) to remain under our protec­
tion’.
In the year 1813, when Wilberforce argued in the parliament
of Britain, he only reiterated Charles Grant’s position. The main
thrust of argument of the Evangelists was that, if company wanted
to consolidate its power over its colonial subjects then it was not
enough to keep control over resources and labour only. In the
second phase of colonial expansion it was necessary to target the
ideology and mind of Indians and take control of it.
It was the continuous effort of the Evangelists like Wilberforce
and Grant, which compelled the British parliament to take the
responsibility of ‘Indian education’. To implement this civilizing
responsibility, the British parliament had withdrawn its restriction
on missionary activities in the territories of East India Company.
A new clause was introduced in the Regulation of East India
Company (clause no. 43) where it was stated that from there on
the Company would spend 1,00,000 (one lakh) rupees annually
for the development and revival of literature and introduce and
expand the scientific knowledge among the natives.10
This study attempts to show that the East India Company had
changed its policy towards the natives of India in the year 1813 as
a result of continuous rhetorical as well as political pressure by the
Evangelists. The old as well as the new policy were both adopted
for the sake of colonial expansion and consolidation of colonial
power. The new policy, which was adopted by the British parlia­
ment under the influence of the Evangelists, was very effective for
imperial power, and that was proved especially after the revolt of
1857. A majority of the English-educated elite natives were against
the mutiny of 1857. That is why the then Vice-Chancellor of the
University of Calcutta had stated in a speech in 1860, if education
was provided to the Indian people from Cape Camorine to Hima­
laya (south to north) then a revolt like 1857 would never recur.11
This goes on to show that the missionaries had shown foresight
 Colonial State, Christian Missionaries 551

in supporting the expansion and consolidation of British Empire.

They not only pursued the members of the British parliament by
writing pamphlets and propaganda material, but at the same time
were instrumental in implementing this new policy which con­
sisted of spreading English education (knowledge) amongst the
Indians. Immediately after the Charter Act, British missionaries
who were working in India had taken the responsibility of imple­
menting this policy. This presentation reflects on some instances
of that transition.
William Carey, the missionary from Serampore, made some
suggestion as to how the lakhs of rupees provided for education
in the new Charter Act of 1813 might best be spent. He suggested
that primary education could ideally be promoted by dividing the
whole country into circles of 150 miles in diameter. Each of the
circles would be headed by one superintendent for all the schools
of the area, who will reside in the centre of the circle.12 It may not
be irrelevant here to use the Foucouldian idea of changing notion
of crime and punishment. In his work Discipline and Punish,
Michel Foucault had shown that in the transition from feudalism
to capitalism, Europe had changed even the concept of crime and
punishment. To cope up with the new social system, they intro­
duced new type of punishment, which gave importance to the
inner domain of the human mind.13
Jeremy Bentham proved to be a touchstone in this journey.
He dreamt of a new type of prison. He named it the ‘panopticon’.
Bentham stated that the perfect prison/surveillance system would
be one in which the cells for the convicted would be constructed in
a circle, in the centre of which there would be a watchtower from
where the guard could watch the jailed inmates. The prisoners thus
would never know for certain whether they were being watched,
so they would effectively police themselves, and be as actors on
a stage, giving the appearance of submission, although they were
probably not being watched.The role of the superintendent, Carey
thought, would be somewhat similar.
Carey’s ideas were carried forward at length by another
missionary named Joshua Marshman from Serampore, in his pam­
phlet entitled Hints Relative to Native Schools. The view expressed
552 Santanu Sarkar

by him in the pamphlet was nothing but the position taken by

Charles Grant earlier. The basic idea of these pamphleteers was
that Hinduism was in part responsible for the prevailing ignorance
of the Hindus and its inherent problems were exacerbated by such
ignorance. The Bengalis were ignorant of almost everything relat­
ing to morality, intellectual and spiritual fulfilment, the nature of
God, or ethics, history, geography, and science.
To implement the new policy, Serampore missionaries estab­
lished an ‘Institute for the Support and Encouragement of Native
Schools’ in 1816. Marshman’s plans contained in his ‘Hints Rela­
tive to Native Schools’ were put into effect with the help of this
institute, resulting in a mushroom growth of schools. The primary
schools of the Baptist Mission very soon proved their worth. By
1818, the mission had 126 vernacular schools with 10,000 pupils.
In this context, we may say that the Christian missionaries of
Serampore were more foresightful; they had a difference with
the Company people on the language policy which was adopted.
There was a major controversy over the medium of instruction.
There were three schools of thought; the ‘Orientalist’, who wanted
continued study of Sanskrit classics through the Sanskrit medium;
the ‘Anglicist’, who wanted Western education in English; and the
vernacularist’, who wanted the same in the appropriate vernacular.
The Serampore missionaries were among the leaders of the latter
party. Marshman sets forth their reasons in the Hints Relative to
Native Schools—the vernacular medium would make it easier for
the native people to acquire education, and be conductive to social
stability.
Marshman recalled the experience of Europe, how the renais­
sance had leavened whole nation because it had come through the
vernaculars rather than some language known only to be learned,
and he believed that the same process could take place in India; the
product of the vernacular schools would spread abroad this ‘new
learning’ in their normal social intercourse. Thus even the poor­
est peasant would realize the ‘marvels’ of modern science (English
knowledge) were at his own disposal for the improvement of his
surroundings.
That is why they not only established educational institutes,
 Colonial State, Christian Missionaries 553

but also established printing press, authored and published a num­

ber books in vernacular. If we go through the printed and written
Bengali books by the missionary in early nineteenth century, we
can only see that they followed scrupulously the policy formulated
by the British parliament for the interest of colonial expansion.
In 1800, the Serampore Mission Press was established by the
Serampore missionaries which was functional till 1834. If we go
through the titles, which were printed there before 1813, we can
see that, other than the books of Christianity, books of Hindu epics
like Mahabharata and Ramayana, too, were printed in 1802. They
had printed such books in pursuance of the Company’s policy of
non-interference in the religious affairs of natives.
Grant stated in his monograph that the natives had no ‘proper’
understanding what history was; natives considered myth as his­
tory. So Indians had no ‘history’ at all. But in the printing press
of Serampore mission the missionaries printed a book titled Iti­
haasmala (Historical Stories) in 1812 written and edited by Carey,
which was nothing but some mythical tales. The same can be said
of all those books printed there before 1813, which were written
by the natives. The evangelicals had severely criticized the moral
sense of the natives, but at the same time in Serampore Mission
Press, the highest number of books which were printed were based
on the morals of the natives, like Hitopodesh (Goloknath Sharma
in 1802), Botrish Sinhasan (Mrityunjoy Bidyalankar in 1802) and
The Orientalist Fabulist (Tarini Charan Mitra in 1803). All these
things were done in accordance with the imperial policy of non­
interference. The scenario, however, totally changed after 1813. In
1818, the School Book Society was established. Its purpose was
to print and publish textbooks for the consumption of the native
students. Its declared policy was that it would not publish any reli­
gious book. It is interesting to note that the secretary of this society
was a missionary, William Yeats. This schoolbook society had a
major role to spread the English ‘knowledge’ by which the coloniz­
ers tried to construct the ‘colonial mind’.
When science was introduced as a subject in native schools
after 1813, it was the missionaries who took the responsibility first
to write and then to print all the science textbooks, because their
554 Santanu Sarkar

logic was English ‘knowledge’ can spread amongst the natives

through science only. One thing we have to keep in mind that
before Darwin had done his work, there was not any contradiction
between religion (Christianity) and science. Rather, the study of
nature gave an insight into the ways of its creator, while the Book
of Genesis was seen as an accurate textbook of the early history
of the world. As God manifested Himself openly in all branches
of learning, the study of them would be an effective preparation
for the gospel; and just as theology was vindicated by science, so
was ethics by experience. All this then was to be taught to Hindu
children; a smattering of modern scientific knowledge, Christian
theology and ethics—though not yet the Bible itself.… Christian­
ity would be seen to be essentially reasonable, and in agreement
with scientific truth as objectively verified; conversely, the incon­
sistence of Hinduism would be clearly revealed. How could people
continue to worship rivers and trees after they had been taught to
regard them with the eye of a scientist?
A brief account of the science books which were written and
printed in Bengali by the missionaries first are as follows:
• John Mack had written the first chemistry book in Bengali in
1834 entitled Kimia Bidyar Sar (Principles of Chemistry).
• William Yeats wrote the first book of natural science in
Bengali, entitled Padartha Bidyar Sar (Elements of Natural
Philosophy and Natural History) in 1825, and the first book of
astronomy in Bengali, entitled Jyotirbidya (Easy Introduction
to Astronomy) in 1833.
• J.D. Pearson wrote Bhugol o Jyotish (Dialogues on Geography,
Astronomy, etc.) in 1824.
• J.C. Marshman wrote the first book of agriculture in Bengali
entitled Kshetrabagan Bibaran.
• Felix Carey wrote the book of Western medical science,
entitled Bidyaharabali. It was the first book of anatomy written
in the Bengali language.
• The missionaries took the imperial responsibility to teach the
natives what ‘history’ was. The first history book in Bengali
was written by Felix Carey, entitled Briton Desio Bibaran
Sanchay (The History of Britain) in 1819.
 Colonial State, Christian Missionaries 555

• James stuart wrote Itihaskatha in 1820.

• J.C. Marshman wrote Purabritter Sankshep Bibaran in 1830
and Bharatbarsher Itihaas (History of India) in 1831.
• John Robinson wrote Itihaas Sar Sangraha in 1832.
Grant had stated in his pamphlet that the natives had no sense
of geography so the missionaries took the initiative to write a geog­
raphy book in Bengali. The first geography book in Bengali was
written by Pears, entitled Bhugol Britanta in 1818. J.C. Marshman
wrote Jyotish Goladhyay in 1819. Pearson wrote Bhugol o Jyotish
(Dialogues On Geography, Astronomy, etc.) in 1824. Sadarland
wrote Bharoter Bhugol in 1834.14
It would not be irrelevant to mention here that north-east India
had a close connection with the Serampore mission in the early
nineteenth century. And in north-east India, we find a unique col­
laboration between the missionaries and the British government.
The Serampore mission started its missionary work in the north­
east at the invitation of the British officers. There was a mutual
cooperation between the British authorities and the missionaries
in the evangelization of the people and in the establishment of
schools. One of the reasons for such a relationship in the north-east
was that the British officers like David Scott and W.N. Garret who
were posted in this region were Christians with tremendous evan­
gelical zeal. As indicated earlier, the colonizers made their policy
clear that the government should not interfere in any religious
affairs of the natives. But it was not followed in the north-east.
David Scott, who was a student of William Carey in Fort William
College, was greatly influenced by the evangelical missionary spirit
of Carey and the Serampore mission. He was appointed first agent
to the governor-general, north-east frontier and special civil com­
missioner of north-east Rangpur. Later he was the commissioner
of the former composite Assam. He was assigned the responsi­
bility for the administration of the entire north-east, including
Sikkim and Sylhet, in present-day Bangladesh, with special power
to the Garo Hills and Goalpara district. This person did not follow
religious neutrality in the north-east. He had realized that evange­
lization and mission educational effort as necessary and effective
means of helping the government’s operation among the ‘warlike’
556 Santanu Sarkar

hill people. He opened a school at Singimari in 1827. It was not a

direct mission school, but Bishop Heber of Calcutta had strongly
recommended it. Scott’s main intention of establishing this school
was to convert the Garos to Christianity. In this respect, he had
demonstrated himself more a Serampore Baptist missionary than
the commissioner of the British authorities. Though it was closed
in 1829, it showed the way in which a government officer who
represented the government that strictly maintained a policy of
non-interference in religious affairs not only encouraged mis­
sionary work but actively involved himself for the mission, too.
W.N. Garrett was a judge of the British government in Sylhet. He
had sent invitation to Carey in Serampore to send missionaries
for evangelization of the Khasis and other peoples in the plains of
Sylhet. In response to this invitation, Carey deputed K.C. Paul, the
first Serampore convert. The beginnings of missionary operations
among the Khasis took place in the early part of 1813 at Pandua.
There were seven converts, both tribals and non-tribals. It is inter­
esting that before the sacrament of baptism was conducted, the
government officials, Garrett and Matthew Smith (one of Carey’s
good friends) intervened and cross-examined the converts them­
selves. They have acted as ‘superintending missionaries’. The whole
process was taken as activities of the government.15
Other than these activities, the Serampore mission had trans­
lated the Bible in many north-east Indian languages. The translation
of the Bible into Assamese language started in early 1811. The New
Testament, which was translated first, was published in 1819. The
translation of the New Testament into Khasi began in 1813 and the
book was published in 1824. Serampore Mission had published
the New Testament in Manipuri language in 1827.
Thus it can be seen that the colonizers, with the help of their
‘knowledge’, had tried to construct a cultural space in which the
communication between the master and the subject was possible.
Unless the colonized understood the language, which included the
knowledge, they would not collaborate in their colonialist enter­
prise. Therefore the principle of persuasion becomes an effective
tool to co-opt them in their project. They visualized a group of
collaborators out of the colonial subjects who would work as inter­
 Colonial State, Christian Missionaries 557

preters between colonizers and colonized, who were ‘Indians’ in

blood and colour but were like Englishmen in mind, as dreamt by
Macaulay. In spite of many contradictions between the mission­
aries and the British government, the missionaries facilitated this
transformation of the colonized through the device of ‘deform’ to
harness the colonized people into the end product—the ‘colonial
mind’.

Notes
1. L. Althusser, Lenin and Philosophy and other Essays, NLB London,
1971, pp. 136.
2. Ibid., pp. 136-7.
3. Ramsay Muir, The Making of British India, Manchester, 1923,
pp. 251-2.
4. A. Bandyopadhyay, Bangla Sahitter Itibritto, vol. 5, Modern Book
Agency, Kolkata (originally quoted from Memoirs of the Revd John
Thomas, the First Baptist Missionary to Bengal, pp. 83-4), 2000.
5. Ibid., p. 317.
6. H. Sharp (ed.), Selections from Education Records, vol. 1: 1781-1839,
1920, p. 10.
7. C.B. Lewis, Memoirs of the Rev John Thomas, the First Baptist
Missionary to Bengal, p. 74.
8. Bandyopadhyay, op. cit., p. 313 (originally quoted from Marshman,
J.C., ‘The Story of Carey, Marshman and Ward’, p. 21).
9. Ibid., pp. 312-13.
10. Sharp, op. cit., p. 22.
11. N. Roy, and P.C. Gupta (eds), Hundred Years of the University of
Calcutta., 1957, p. 34.
12. T.A. Jeyasekaran, ‘William Carey’s Educational Contribution’, in
Carey’s Obligation and India’s Renaissance, J.T.K. Daniel and R.E.
Hedlund (ed.), Serampore, 1993.
13. M. Foucoult, Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison,
Harmondsworth, 1982, pp. 104-31.
14. A. Khastageer, ‘Unish Sataker Bangle Boi’, in: Unish Sataker
Bangalijiban o Sanskriti, ed. Swapan Basu and Indrajit Choudhury,
Pustakbipani, Kolkata.
15. O.L. Snaitang, ‘William Carey and the Church in North East India’,
Daniel, J.T.K., and Hedlund, R.E. op. cit.
558 Santanu Sarkar

References
Bagchi, J., ‘The English Utilitarians and India’, in Nineteenth Century
Studies, ed. Aloke Roy, 1975.
Bandyopadhyay, A., Bangla Sahitter Iitibritto, vol. 5, Modern Book
Agency, Kolkata, 2000.
Basu, S., and I. Choudhury (eds.), Unish Sataker Bangalijiban o Sanskriti,
Pustakbipani, Kolkata, 2003.
Daniel, J.T.K. and R.E. Hedlund, Carey’s Obligation and India’s Renais­
sance, Serampore, 1993.
Downs, Fredrick, Christianity in North East India: Historical Perspectives,
ISPCK/CLC, Delhi/Guwahati, 1983.
Duff, A., ‘The Early or Exclusively Orient Period of Government
Education in Bengal’, Calcutta Review, vol. 3, no. 4, 1845.
Foucoult, M., Discipline and Punish: the Birth of the Prison,
Harmondsworth, Penguin, 1982.
Huizinga, H. Missionary Education in India, Michigan, 1909.
Kopf, D., British Orientalism and Bengal Renaissance, Calcutta, 1969.
Laird, M.A., Missionaries and Education in Bengal, 1793-1837, Oxford,
1972.
Neill, Stephen, A History of Christianity in India, 1707-1858, Cambridge,
1985.
Potts, Daniel, British Baptist Missionaries in India 1793-1837: The History
of Serampore Missions, Cambridge, 1967.
Roy, N. and P.C. Gupta (eds.), Hundred Years of the University of Calcutta,
Calcutta, 1957,
Sharp, H. (ed.), Selections from Education Records, vol. 1: 1781-1839,
Calcutta, 1920.
Stokes, E., The English Utilitarians and India, Delhi, 1989.
Trevelion, C.E., On the Education of the People of India, London, 1838.
 CHAPTER 23

Sociocultural Re-Invention
A Study of Christianity in Arunachal Pradesh

SARAH HILALY

Prelude
Christianity reached the shores of the Indian subcontinent in
the early Christian era in 52 ad when St. Thomas as apostle of
Jesus touched the shores of Kerala. In any case, the Christian faith
reached India at a very early time, facilitated by the maritime trade,
which existed between India and the Mediterranean region. Much
later, Roman Catholic missionaries began to work in India in the
context of the Portuguese colonial enterprise. They were followed
by the entry of various Protestant denominations in the context of
the British domination of India.
The general assumption is that imperialism was a means by
which the European nation state spread its civilization to the non-
European nations. The extraction of surplus revenue was presumed
to be an incentive towards spreading its civilization. Understand­
ing the early history of British India, therefore, requires a different
narrative. The early years of colonial rule under the East India
Company was marked by prohibition of missionary activities.1
Evangelism entered British India at a stage later than one would
expect as the civilizing mission and the politics of Empire were
mutually exclusive.2
A movement first surfaced when William Wilberforce
attempted to introduce a clause in sanctioning the establishment
of evangelical missions in British India in the 1793 renewal of the
Charter of the East India Company. In 1805, Claudius Buchanan,
560 Sarah Hilaly

a chaplain of the East India Company, who wrote Memoir of the

Expediency of an Ecclesiastical Establishment for British India,
called for the civilizing of the natives.3 Far from signalling a shift in
the Company’s attitude toward Anglicization, Buchanan’s Memoir
sparked a public debate in 1807 among the Company’s sharehold­
ers and in the London periodical press that highlighted the tense
relationship between the civilizing mission and imperial politics.
The 1813 charter, with which the parliament finally ended both
the Company’s monopoly on Indian trade and the Company’s
prohibition on missionary activity in India, marked a watershed
in the history of British imperialism. The parliament in effect
transformed the public rationale behind British imperialism in
India fundamentally. The year 1813, in effect, finally inaugurated
the civilizing mission in British India. The civilizing mission was
born only after a controversial half-century of colonial rule dur­
ing which, in works like Buchanan’s Memoir, metropolitan print
culture repeatedly emphasized the discrepancy between the civil
principles of the nation and the practices of its empire.

Christianity in North-East India

It took over 1,600 years for the faith to reach north-east India.
E.A. Gait mentions of two Portuguese Jesuit Fathers who reached
Hajo and Guwahati on 26 September 1626, on their way to Tibet
from Hooghly.4 In 1640, a body of Augustine fathers from Dhaka
established a church at Rangamati at Dhubri.5 In the region of
Cachar, the Mughals during the conflict with the British had
secured the services of Portuguese. Many of them later sought
refuge in 1765 under the Raja of Cachar and were granted rights
for settlement at Bondashill.6 This was the first Roman Catholic
settlement in this region.
It is imperative to look into the background of the nine­
teenth-century evangelism in India to understand missionary
activities in north-east India in a better perspective. In the early
nineteenth century, several newly formed mission societies estab­
lished themselves in the country. In 1800, the Baptist Missionary
Society initiated work in Serampore. The Baptists were active in
many fields—translation of the Bible in several Indian languages,
 Sociocultural Re-Invention 561

printing Bibles, books, and newspapers, protesting against infant

sacrifices and the burning alive of Hindu widows. They were the
first to introduce theological education; the theology department
of Serampore College was opened in 1820.
The Khasis of Meghalaya were the first in north-east India to
accept the gospel of Jesus Christ. In 1813, Rev. K.C. Pal of the Brit­
ish Baptists from the Serampore mission stayed for a few months
in Pandua (a marketing centre of the Cherrapunji Syiemship).
After this first contact, William Carey initiated the translation
of the Bible into Khasi (Shella dialect). Bengali script was also
chosen by the Serampore mission, to spread the message in the
Shella Region. Though imperfect in some respect, the 500 copies
that were printed in 1824 marked a momentous beginning and
historic watershed. The Garos of Meghalaya came to accept Chris­
tianity in 1863 with the advent of British rule in north-east India.
The Mizo encounter with Christianity could be dated to 1891
with the visit of a Welsh missionary. D.E. Jones of the Calvinistic
Methodist Church who came to Mizoram, and was soon joined by
Edwin Rowland who started the Presbyterian Synod of Mizoram
which continues to be one of the largest Baptist denominations
of Mizoram. The gospel reached Nagaland through Godhula, an
Assamese convert and evangelist, and Rev. E.W. Clarke. With
Clarke’s encouragement, Godhula visited Ao hills for his evange­
listic mission in October 1871.
The Roman Catholic Mission had begun its work in India
since the fifteenth century. Till the nineteenth century, their pres­
ence in north-east India was very limited. The region was under
the diocese of Mylapore whose sphere of activity stretched from
Tamil Nadu to the border of Burma. In 1834, with the splitting
of the Diocese, north-east India came under the Vicariate Apos­
tolic of Lhasa. In 1865, the Vicariate of East Bengal controlled the
activities for north-east India. Active proselytizing of this church
began as late as 1890.
The American Baptist Mission organization was keen on using
the route through the easternmost portion on north-east India to
enter China for evangelization. In 1835, Captain Jenkins invited
the American Baptist Mission to work in Burma. While accepting
the invitation two missionary families were sent to open a mission
562 Sarah Hilaly

at Sadiya. In the early years of colonial rule in India, the politics of

keeping the Burma frontier secure found its reflection in various
spheres. They sought to evangelize amongst the tribal populations
of Upper Burma in order to sustain the communities as buffer. The
same vision worked for the setting up of a Shan mission. This was
the core of missionary activities for the region then known as the
northern frontier of Assam or present-day Arunachal Pradesh.
With little success of the Shan mission due to the strong tradi­
tion of Buddhism amongst the communities, in 1841, the activities
of the American Baptist Mission was shifted to Lower Assam. A
small mission continued to operate from Jaipore in Sibsagar dis­
trict in Assam.7

Christianity in Arunachal Pradesh

Missionary activity in Arunachal Pradesh can be roughly divided
into the colonial and post-colonial periods. Initial influences of
Christianity in Arunachal Pradesh were from the missionary
activities in Sadiya and Lakhimpur. The Roman Catholics made
brief contact with the Adis (Abors) and the Mishmis in 1840 and
1854, respectively. This was in their attempt to proceed to Tibet.
The Mishmis were complicit during this period in the murder of
two French Catholic missionaries Fr Krick and Fr Bourry. Early
contacts were therefore limited to the foothill areas.
The reopening of the Sadiya Mission in 1905 brought in new
vigour to proselytize amongst the Adis (Abors) and the Miris.
As the British did not practise aggressive colonialism within the
northern frontiers of Assam, colonial state missionary activities
within the hills did not make much headway. It was the establish­
ment of missionary schools in the foothill regions in the district
of Lakhimpur that helped in the spread of Christianity among the
Adis (Abors), Nyishis (Daflas) and the Miris.
The spread of the Roman Catholic Church in Arunachal
Pradesh began with the founding of centres along the borders. This
was speeded up with the setting up of the Tezpur Mission in 1934.
The Sadiya Mission Station School began to baptize its students.
Of the three students baptized in 1937, Dugyon, a Padam-Adi, was
 Sociocultural Re-Invention 563

the first convert.8 Having studied at Jorhat he helped the mission­

aries in translation of the gospels to Adi.
According to Milton Sangma, the first Nyishi was converted
in 1900 by a Garo preacher, though his name is not available.
When Christopher von Haimendorf visited the Subansiri region of
Arunachal Pradesh in 1944, he noted that since entry into NEFA
was restricted, ‘strict scrutiny was maintained on both converts
and outside missionaries’. Among the Nyishis (Daflas) in 1959, the
Lakhimpur Baptist Mission ordained the first Deacon. The church
closest to a Nyishi settlement in the early days was at Rangajan.
The first proselytizers were the students of missionary schools
who came from outside the state. It is significant to note that in
the 1960s the Nyishi students of John Firth School at Lakhimpur
were involved in the mission. The first church was at Talo in the
Subansiri region. The most momentous event was the setting up of
Don Bosco School at Harmutty in 1977. Many tribal children who
were educated free of cost were trained to spread the message of
Christianity among the villages.
New areas in Arunachal have come under the influence of
Christianity in the post-Independence period. Among the Wan­
chos who live in south-eastern Arunachal Pradesh, presently
about 70 per cent of the population have accepted Christianity.
The phenomenon is traceable to 1975 when Mansai Wanchu of
Chopsa village was baptized by an Ao missionary. The Baptist
Mission of Nagaland has been extremely active in the region with
the first church at Baregoan village in 1977. Catholic Mission was
a late entrant into the region in 1989-90. In 2003 the Revivalist
also entered the fray.9 Their neighbouring tribes of the Noctes who
were earlier followers of Vaishnavism have come under the influ­
ence of Christianity. The only region where missionary activities
have been less significant is among the tribes following Buddhism
and among the Mishmis in northwestern Arunachal Pradesh.

Responses to Christianity
In the immediate aftermath of Independence, the North-East
Frontier Tracts (NEFT) were in the throes of the integrationist
564 Sarah Hilaly

policy of the nation in the making as well as sub-nationalism

in Assam which was integrating the region. As the constitution
was being drafted, a separate sub-committee was set up under
the leadership of Gopinath Bordoloi to recommend appropriate
measures for administering the tribal areas. The services of
anthropologist Dr B.S. Guha were solicited in order to have an
understanding of the social dynamics of all the tribes. It was decided
that the colonial administrative machinery should be allowed to
perpetuate till the people gain maturity in understanding the new
political institutions. Finally, when the administrative network
was extended to the interiors, it was to be merged with Assam. A
constitutional anomaly was that NEFT was administered by the
governor of Assam, rather than the Government of Assam. The
state legislature was not entitled to pass any laws. In 1950, NEFT
was put under the ministry of external affairs as the area was
strategically located. The final break from merging with Assam
was in the birth of NEFA in 1954.
It is pertinent to mention here that Nehru had to contend
with the militant nationalism of the Nagas in this region. Despite
Nehru’s secular credentials, during his visit to the region in 1952,
he noted that Christianity has been a driving force in the Naga
perception of a separate nationality. Verrier Elwin who formulated
policies for NEFA, too, had been influenced by debate on the mis­
sionaries in central India. He launched a vigorous diatribe against
the Dutch Roman Catholics. He accused them of converting the
tribes by force and allurement, thus destroying their culture and
political unity.10 Nandini Sundar calls this alignment of Elwin with
the Hindu Mahasabha as a case of ‘opportunism’. She also argues
that this stance has made the tribes a battleground for contestation
between the Hindus and Christians. In his Philosophy for NEFA he
argued that the ‘missionaries project a narrow vision of intolerant
Christianity’.11
Hence the official response to conversion was marked by dis­
tinct hostility. This was outlined in the last line of the Panchsheel
for Tribal Policy. The tribes were to develop along the lines of their
own tradition and genius. The administrators were issued guide­
lines to oversee that Christianity is unable to make substantial
 Sociocultural Re-Invention 565

inroads into the territory.12 With the official line of action very
categorical in the 1960s, local leaders too expressed apprehension
at the loss of their culture in the wake of missionary activities. In
1971 people from the Adi area submitted a petition to the prime
minister expressing anguish at conversions. This period was also
witnessed the galvanizing of ethnic identity around traditional
religious practices. The emergence of Donyi-Polo religion stands
as a case in point.
Early in 1969, the responses began to assume violent mani­
festations. Churches in the Nyishi area of Deed, Dem and Neelam
were burnt down with the help of S.S.B. Guards. In Subansiri
alone, 47 churches were razed to the ground. Converts, too, were
severely persecuted. The climatic period was in 1974 when in the
Sagalee division, 40 churches were burnt down. This phenomenon
replicated itself in other parts of Arunachal Pradesh.
A persistent demand had been to legislate on prohibition of
conversions to Christianity from 1969 for ‘certain positive mea­
sures for preservation and promotion of their traditional culture
and particularly their indigenous faith’.13 The emerging Adi lead­
ership initiated the move through a resolution adopted at the
Arunachal Pradesh Development-cum-Cultural Convention on
21 May 1976, and the newly-formed Agency Council in 1971 took
it up as a crucial agenda. In 1978, the chief minister, P.K. Thungon,
introduced the Arunachal Pradesh Freedom of Indigenous Faith
Bill.
Parallel to this was the government initiative of allowing the
right wing supported educational institutions like the Vivekananda
Kendriya Vidyalayas. They are also attempting at the societal level
to project indigenous beliefs into institutionalized religious orders.
The concept of Donyi-Poloism and the emergence of prayer houses
like Myedar Nelo and Nyader Namlo is a part of their move to
keep people away from Christianity. The forms of prayers, too,
reflect their ideological leanings. The various socio-cultural orga­
nizations, too, reflect the ideological moorings of the right wing
organization.
Several regional and national Christian associations protested
and sent a memorandum to the President of India. In parliament,
566 Sarah Hilaly

too, leaders from other Christian states in the north-east raised a

voice. The bill finally received presidential assent on 25 October
1978. As Arunachal Pradesh was a Union Territory, the govern­
ment machinery was able to initiate measures against coercive
conversions. With the granting of statehood and the emergence of
grassroots political organizations with its compulsions, there was
a relaxing of stranglehold on conversions. The 1980s witnessed
renewed vigour in missionary activities. The missionaries, too,
have adopted stance ‘integration the Christian ethos with local
customs’.14 Yet in spite of all restrictions Christianity continues to
make significant inroads. The Christians continue to make inroads
by targeting the poor and illiterate. The right wing organizations,
on the other hand, target the elites of the society. If one looks at
Arunachal Pradesh’s integration to the nation state, it had been
very smooth. The new converts have begun to question as to how
beneficial the Indian state has been to them.

Impact of Christianity
The religious affiliations of the people of Arunachal Pradesh have
created major rift lines within society. There is a contestation for
space in the post-colonial period, both among the Hindus and
Christians. New solidarities have been created on religious lines,
rupturing social organization. Village level ruptures have also
occurred. Segregation of residential complexes in village level
settlements has occurred. Participation in community and life cycle
rituals has diminished. Collective clan level responsibilities like
house building are no longer very cohesive. Among certain tribes
the skill of tattooing for religious purposes is fast disappearing.
The positive effects have been witnessed in the reduction of
child marriage and polygamy. In stratified societies, dresses and
distinctive hairdos had hitherto been social markers for women. It
has helped reduce these rigidities. To some extent, it has provided
an alternate space to women away from the monotony and drudg­
ery of life. In this paper, I have attempted to provide an overview of
the dilemmas that the people of Arunachal Pradesh are experienc­
ing in the realm of religious contestation.
 Sociocultural Re-Invention 567

Notes
1. The evangelical movement called for the establishment of missions
in India as part of a broad project of Anglicization that purported to
insure that colonial rule served not to exploit the native population
but rather to secure their prosperity, East India Company officials,
in general, vehemently opposed evangelism, in particular, and
Anglicization, in general, because they believed that such projects
would provoke insurrection and destabilize their authority.
2. Siraj Ahmed, ‘An Unlimited Intercourse: Historical Contradictions
and Imperial Romance in the Early Nineteenth Century’, in The
Containment and Re-deployment of English India, Romantic Circles
Praxis Series, http://romantic-circles.org/praxis/containment/ahmed
/ahmed.html, p.5.
3. Ibid., p. 3.
4. E.A. Gait, 1906, A History of Assam, Thacker, Spink and Company,
Calcutta, pp. 115-16.
5. N.T. Rikam, 2005, Emerging Religious Identities of Arunachal Pradesh,
Mittal Publication, New Delhi, p. 80.
6. Ibid.
7. Ibid., p. 82.
8. J.L. Dawar, 2003, Cultural Identity of the Tribes of North East India,
Commonwealth Publishers, New Delhi, p. 55.
9. Sarit Chaudhuri, ‘Christianity and Culture Change Among the
Wanchos’ presented at a National Seminar on Cultural Change
Among the Tribes of Northeast India, Shillong, 25-28 October 2006.
10. Nandini Sundar, 2005, ‘Verrier Elwin and the 1940s Missionary
Debate in Central India’, in T.B. Subba and Sujit Som (eds.), Between
Ethnography and Fiction: Verrier Elwin and the Tribal Question in
India, Orient Longman, New Delhi, p. 86.
11. Dawar, op. cit., p. 58.
12. Mention may be made of the role of K.A.A. Raja. The first stipends
were issued to children to study outside the state. They were
prohibited from enrolling in missionary schools.
13. Dawar, op. cit., p. 67.
14. Ibid., p. 74.
 CHAPTER 24

An Analysis of the American Baptist Missionary

Sources for the Construction of Gender History
in North-East India
SHIELA BORA

The missionaries’ considerable influence amongst other peoples

and in America, while hard to quantify, has usually been acknowl­
edged … the missionaries were the chief interpreters of remote
cultures for the people at home, and as such played a central role in
the shaping of American public attitudes.
—from the introduction of William R. Hutchinson’s,
Errand to the World

North-east India with a rich historical legacy has been overlooked

in general historical studies of the country and the oft-repeated
explanation for this imbalance is the dearth of source materials
on the region, having an all-India bearing. Since a large section
of the population in these areas was not literate, we are largely
dependent only on British writers and anthropologists for first
hand information on them. It was only after the gradual extension
of British rule in north-east and their contact with the hill tribes
that an era of historical writing by the British civil and military
officers was inaugurated. Though this gave a solid beginning to the
historians of the north-east, it must be borne in mind that many
of the administrator anthropologists who served and wrote in the
north-eastern hills in the early modern period belonged to the
nineteenth and early twentieth-century school of anthropology
which romanticized primal societies. Very often their accounts
were based on the information gathered from local informers on
whom they were heavily dependent and who may not always have
been representative of the entire community.
570 Shiela Bora

It is in this context that the American Baptist missionaries

provide an important source for the historical study of the north­
east in the modern period. Focusing on the history of contact
between indigenous peoples and the white colonial communities
who settled in India’s north-east, this paper attempts to analyse
how the writings of the American Baptist missionaries narrating
their activities in the region in the nineteenth and early twentieth
centuries, can help or otherwise, a historian to construct a gender
history of the region in proper perspective.
The American Baptist Mission which in time also included
its women’s branch, made significant expansion of its activities in
Upper Assam, followed in the second half of the century with the
beginnings of mission work in Gauhati and Goalpara. Their work
among the hill tribes benefitted not only the Nagas, the Lushais,
the Garos and the Mikirs, but also some hill tribes of what was
known as the frontier tracts and the hill tribes of Manipur state.
The American Baptist missionaries who began their evangeli­
cal work in Assam in 1836, had evinced great interest in the women
folk of the region and women occupied a very important place in
their evangelical activities. In their effort to ameliorate the position
of the ‘heathen’ women a number of foreign missionary women
workers were sent out to distant lands to assist the missionary
men. Hence the writings of the missionaries illustrate better than
any other source, the lives and surroundings of the people with
whom they came into contact in the process of propagating their
faith. We do not have in the accounts of these missionaries the
chronicles of kings and warriors, their wars or conquests, or their
successes and failures. On the contrary they provide an account
of the customs and prejudices and the hopes and aspirations of
the people. The evangelical ethnology which was produced, was
indeed significant not for any substantive contribution to scientific
or professional anthropology, but for its distinctive focus on wom­
en’s status and roles. Herein lies the importance of these accounts
in our attempt to write gender history.
The sources available from the American Baptist missionaries’
writings may be grouped under five broad categories:
 An Analysis of the American Baptist Missionary Sources 571

a. Manuscripts preserved and found in the possession of the

missionaries. (Approximately 40).
b. Coins preserved and found in the possession of missionaries.

Coins preserved by the Quarter rupee coin of

missionaries and printed in the Sarbeswari
Arunodoi with explanations
Fig. 24.1

c. Ethnological Works
Volumes of ethnological works published by the missionaries both
for the women of the hills and the plains. Some of the important
works are listed below:
1. Women of Assam Elizabeth Vickland
2. With Christ in Assam Do
3. Twenty Years in Assam or Leaves
from My Journal (1901) Mrs P.H. Moore
4. Further Leaves from Assam (1907) Do
5. Autumn Leaves from Assam (1910)Do
6. Stray Leaves from Assam(1916) Do
7. A Comer in India M.M. Clarke
8. The Naga Tribes of Manipur T.C. Hodson
9. Among the Lushais Herbert Anderson
10. A Garo Jungle Book Revd William Carey
11. The Star of the Naga Hills Norola Rivenburg
12. The Garos Major A. Playfair
13. The Whole World Kin Eliza Whitney Brown
572 Shiela Bora

Elisabeth Vickland’s book, Women of Assam, as well as her

other writings was intended to introduce the women of this region
to her American friends and therefore contains elaborate details
of their religious faith, its role in their lives and the significance of
various customs for women.
She writes, ‘… both Hindu and Muslim women have been ter­
ribly handicapped, brazenly maligned, shamefully betrayed, sadly
cheated.’1 In order to prove her statements she has printed several
pictures depicting the status of women in Assam in almost all her
writings.
Describing a Garo girl, William Carey in his A Garo Jungle
Book, says that the thick solid brass-wire rings, some weighing

ORDINARY OUR FIRST “LADY VILLAGE WOMEN OF

ASSAMESE DOCTORS” THE COOLIE CLASS,
WOMAN Christian Girls ASSAM
Costume Worn They Belong to the
When Working Immigrant Class from
About in the House Central India

ASSAMESE VILLAGE
PEOPLE Who Are Reached
Through Their Daughters
in Attendance at the
Christian School – With
Christ in Assam

Fig. 24.2
 An Analysis of the American Baptist Missionary Sources 573

Elizabeth Vickland
The Jubilee Year at Nowgong, Assam

The Four Generations The Nowgong School Orchestra,

Four of the Members are Absent
Fig. 24.3

nearly five pounds, were the Garo women’s pride, which they
would not part with under any circumstances.
Yet the educated Christian women amongst this tribe began
to discard these rings and in most cases where the use of these
rings had deformed the ear, the women had their earlobes cut or

Fig. 24.4: Revd. William Carey – A Garo Jungle Book

574 Shiela Bora

reshaped. Dr. Eulius Sheldon Downs, the first medical missionary

to the Garo Hills, has referred in his autobiography of having per­
formed the first ‘beauty parlour’ surgery on a weekly market day at
Tura in the Garo Hills.2
Similarly, Herbert Anderson, describing the life of a Lushai
woman, writes,
The very first [Lushai] village you enter teaches you that the woman is
the burden-bearer of Lushai life.…The home life of the Lushai woman
is as busy as her outdoor activities.… Every housewife and growing-up
daughter learns to be extremely industrious … the lady in the log cabin
is out on the platform clearing the cotton from the pod, ginning it to
remove the seed, winding it by the help of her big toes into big white
bundles, or busily at work in her indigenous loom.3
Similarly, other missionaries have also reproduced photo­
graphs, which enable us to imagine the lives of the women amongst
whom they lived and preached.

Fig. 24.5: Herbert Anderson—Among the Lushais

 An Analysis of the American Baptist Missionary Sources 575

Assamese Children with Christmas Orphan babies of Assam with their

dolls ‘Big Sisters’

Fig. 24.6

d. Official Reports and correspondence of the missionaries,

including reports of women missionary organizations and
associations.
It was obligatory for mission heads to send regular reports to
their Home Board in America on the successes and failures of
their missionary activities. Hence the reports sent by the Baptist
missionaries in Assam contained both, details about their
proposed operational programmes, as well as critical analyses of
their successes and failures in this region. Many such reports are
incorporated in the volumes of the Baptist Missionary magazines
available for the years 1834 to 1886 (volumes XIV-LXVI). These
reports, together with the minutes, resolutions and reports of the
annual Baptist missionary conferences, form an invaluable source
for the study of gender history in north-east India.
While reporting various obstacles at work, missionary reports
described the existing society of the time. The position of women
is an oft-repeated subject in such reports. Talking about the Miris,
Mr Whiting reported that it was customary among all Miris to get
another woman in exchange for the one given in marriage. Thus
a Gam, while taking a wife for himself or for his son, pledges his
sister or daughter in return for the woman received, and if he has
none to pledge, the first daughter born is promised as a compensa­
tion for her mother.4 Whiting’s observation on the system was that,
‘… the Miris are polygamists. The more wives, the more slaves.
And this, explains the origin of the custom of exchanging a women
for a women’.5
576 Shiela Bora

Bronson, on the other hand, compares the status of a Naga

woman to that of an Assamese woman and notes that:
Considerable respect appears to be paid to the female sex. In this particu­
lar case there is a striking contrast between the Nagas and the Assamese.
The Assamese women are the most idle, worthless set of beings 1 ever
saw. On the contrary, the Naga women are proverbial for their indus­
trious and laborious habits. This remarkable difference in favour of the
Naga women, is doubtless to be imputed to the anarchical state of the
country, or rather to the number of independent chiefs, who formerly, for
the slightest offence, were disposed to wage war, and the most of all wars,
that which is covert and unsuspected. This made it necessary for the men
to be always ready for an assault, and hence the custom that the women
should cultivate the fields—the men prepare for the fight in battle.6

Women Missionary Organizations

The Women’s Foreign Mission Crusade was a powerful sisterhood
of agencies that had taken shape at the close of the Civil War in
America. In 1910 Helen Barrett Montgomery, later the first president
of the Northern Baptist Convention, attributed the inauguration
of an autonomous women’s foreign-mission organization to an
essentially socio-economic transition that was recasting the works
of both men and women and consequently the nature of the family
itself, in America.7 The Congregationalist women explicitly stated
that, ‘The Society is to engage the earnest, systematic congregation
of … women … in … sending out and supporting unmarried
female missionaries and teachers to heathen women’.8 The ‘effort
to lift womanhood to a higher social level among the people and
the belief that women needed to be brought into the fold to make
conversions permanent, appealed to the Christian constituency in
America, who supported the missionary enterprise’.9 The women’s
foreign mission organizations, besides publishing their own
periodicals, also sent regular reports to their Home Boards. In the
13th annual report of the Woman’s Baptist Foreign Missionary
Society, Ms M. Russell reported from Tura that: ‘I have not been
able to work among the women as much as I had hoped. They are
in the rice fields all day’.10
Fig. 24.7
578 Shiela Bora

In the sixteenth annual report Mrs Burdette provides a back­

ground of the girls who attended the boarding school at Gauhati
in the following manner:
I began my school February 1, with eight girls, three of whom came with
me from Tura, three from their homes in the Garo Hills district, and two
from this district. In March another Garo girl was brought in. In June an
Assamese girl joined my school, but as she did not like to be corrected
at all, she became dissatisfied and left late in July. She has since wished
to return, but I have made it a rule not to allow girls that leave without a
good cause to return, so have not taken her.…11

Talking about the betrayal of a native helper Mrs Ella C. Bond

reports,
… Near the close of the school last week in October, I had learned that
she [Jessie] had been teaching the girls how to break some of the rules
of my school, and hide it from me. I concluded it best not to retain her
services, and dismissed her at the close of the school.12

e. Journals and Periodicals

The American Baptist missionaries were pioneers in publishing
the first periodical in Assamese language in 1846. The Arunodoi
as it was called, contained articles of varied nature and provided
important source materials for writing history. It contained
descriptive articles on numerous tribes like the Singphos and the
Garos. The issue of August 1848 contains a vivid description of the
Singpho tribe with pictures of a Singpho woman.
Through, the Arunudoi the missionaries called for social
reforms, such as promotion of widow remarriage, prevention of
child marriage and the abolition of Sati. Though Assam boasts of
the absence of the degrading practice of Sati, the Arunudoi makes
one of the first references to an attempted case of Sati. The paper
refers to a case from Kalugaon in the South of Sibsagar district
where the widow of the elder brother of Lambodar Mauzadar,
was willing to prove her purity by offering to perform Sati after
death of her husband. However, when the matter was brought to
the notice of the Daroga, Mr Dowerah, she was prevented from
performing the act.13
 An Analysis of the American Baptist Missionary Sources 579

Fig. 24.8: Attempted Sati, Orunudoi, May 1846, vol. 1, no. 5, p. 36

It must be noted that missionary reports on the gruesome

practice of Sati were admirably balanced statements. Though the
ritual had already been declared illegal in British India, the mis­
sionaries did not fail to take note of the exceptions permitted by
the scriptures to this practice. It may therefore be assumed that
their criticisms were often made in terms of the higher intentions
of the native scriptures.

Women’s Periodicals
In addition to nonfiction reports and letters from the field, the
Women’s Foreign Mission Crusade promoted the publication of
missionary journals for women featuring stories, poems and
graphic visual materials. These journals reflect the essentially
middle-class spirit of the women’s foreign mission crusade.
As women’s groups increasingly moved into the business of
publishing materials designed for an audience of middle-class
readers; magazines such as The Helping Hand, Now and Then and
the Heathen Women’s Friend were published and disseminated
with funds drawn out of their own revenues. The articles published
in these journals revealed a kind of impatience with the traditional
notion of women’s singular commitment to domesticity. This
was clearly evident in the objectives of the journal and thus the
women’s foreign missionary societies came to be regarded as the
580 Shiela Bora

great agency of female self-culture at least two decades before the

formation of the General Federation of Women’s Clubs in America.

Fig. 24.9

At the time when the Woman’s Union Missionary Society pro­

posed to start their monthly paper called The Heathen Woman’s
Friend, they issued the following prospectus:
The paper will be devoted more especially to the interests of the work
among heathen women, and will be filled with interesting facts and inci­
dents illustrating that work, furnished by those laboring in heathen lands.
Information will be given concerning the customs and social life of the
people, the various obstacles to be overcome in their Christianization,
and the success which attends the various departments of missionary
labor among them. The design is to furnish just a paper as will be read
with interest by all friends of the cause, and one which will assist in enlist­
ing the sympathies of the children also, and educate them more about the
folly in the missionary work. The price of the paper will be only 3 cents
per annum, so that it will be within the reach of all.
The objectives of the monthly paper were stated to be that:
1. The paper will be … filled with interesting facts and incidents
illustrating that work, furnished by those laboring in heathen lands.
 An Analysis of the American Baptist Missionary Sources 581

2. Information will be given concerning the customs and social life of

the people,
3. the various obstacles to be overcome in their Christianization,
4. and the success which attends the various departments of missionary
labor among them.
5. The design is to furnish just a paper as will be read with interest
by all friends of the cause, and one which will assist in enlisting the
sympathies of the children also, and educate them more about the
folly in the missionary work.
6. The price of the paper will be only 3 cents per annum, so that it will
be within the reach of all.

Similarly, prior to the publication of the magazine, The Wom­

an’s Friend, the General Executive Committee which met in Des
Maines in 1883, expressed its opinion that India may be a land
of voluminous and varied books, but it has no literature fit for a
woman to read, providing the people a just defense for the illit­
eracy of the women. Hence a proposition was made by the retired
missionaries that a Christian paper be established in the vernacu­
lar of the women in India.

Fig. 24.10
582 Shiela Bora

The committee decided to undertake the enterprise, and

instructed Dr Craven, of the Mission Press in India, to take charge
of it. During the meeting Dr Craven received a telegram from D.C.
Cook, of Chicago, donating to him, for this general presswork
in Lucknow, a steam press worth $2,250, and on this the Zenana
paper would be printed. In referring to the action of the Commit­
tee, the late Miss Hart said:
Probably the widest and most significant, as certainly the bravest, work
undertaken at this fourteenth session of the General Executive Commit­
tee, was the plan to create an endowment of $25,000 for the establishment
of a. Zenana paper. It is called the Woman’s Friend, and is issued twice a
month in four dialects-the Urdu, Hindi, Bengali, and Tamil.

It contains editorials on the leading topics of the day, espe­

cially pertaining to the
• condition and needs of women;
• discussions on issues of interest such as widowhood,
infant marriage, and topics of national importance;
• pictures of some noted buildings, place, or person, with
detailed descriptions;
• pictures of birds and animals;
• a continued story of the life of Christ, with an illustration
for each number;
• columns for correspondence, for children, for medical
notes;
• news notes;
• Christian hymns.
The first copy of the paper in Urdu called Rafiq-i-Niswan,
appeared early in 1884. The Hindi version was called Abla Hit­
karak, while the Bengali edition published in Calcutta, was called
Mohila Bandhub. The first editor of this journal was Mrs. Neil who
was followed by Miss Kate Blair in 1889. The Tamil edition, pub­
lished in Madras, called the Mathar Mithiri, was edited by Mrs
Rudsill for two years, until her death in 1889.
In 1893, if the funds warranted the expense, a Marathi edi­
tion was also planned. The execution of this plan was finally made
 An Analysis of the American Baptist Missionary Sources 583

Fig. 24.11
possible because of an annual donation of $250 from the Erie Con­
ference. Miss Sarah De Line was appointed editor for this edition
to be published from Bombay.

f. Private Correspondence
In addition to the official reports and letters mentioned above the
personal correspondences of the missionaries, especially those of
the missionary wives, are useful documents for either confirming
or contradicting the official reports. Most of the correspondence
in this category is in the form of personal letters to friends and
relatives at home, narrating one’s experiences in a new and distant
country. Hence these letters depict the true opinions and personal
observations of the writers. To cite a case in example, the claims
made by official missionary report of having ‘successfully married
off girls’ in their boarding schools, have been referred to in private
correspondence as cases of ‘elopement’.14 While some such letters
are published, others are unpublished.
Ella Marie Holmes, a missionary woman writing to her friend
in the states, narrated a conversation which she had with Mr
584 Shiela Bora

Gopinath Bordoloi, the then Chief Minister of Assam. Gopinath

Bordoloi, while delivering a public speech at Gauhati, had com­
pared Japan’s progress with that of India during the latter half of
the nineteenth century and had attributed all of India’s failure to
the British government’s policies. In response, Marie Holmes who
had visited Japan four times and who had also spent nearly 20
years in India and was well acquainted with the situation in both
the countries in reference, felt impelled to call Mr Bordoloi’s atten­
tion to the baby in her arms and remark:
I found this baby in a Zenana yesterday. It had been slowly starving
for four months right here in Gauhati, where there are scores of Indian
gentlemen very well able to supply milk for hungry children, but none
of you are doing anything so mercifully humanitarian. You gentlemen
of means are generally Brahmins and high caste co-religionists. Your
only charity in this city of 20,000 people is hospital, not for the sick of
humanity, but for sick cattle; a refuge, not for widows and orphans and
the homeless sons and daughters of men, but for hungry and wandering
cows. You spend 20,000 rupees annually caring for these cows many of
which should be mercifully put out of their misery. You give them an
annual feast of five or six pounds of candy, but you do not give a half pint
of milk a day for starving babies.15

Letters (published): In addition to the unpublished private cor­

respondence of the missionaries a few published collections are
also available. Notable among such a collection is The Star of the
Naga Hills—Letters from Rev. Sidney and Hattie Rivenburg.

Conclusion
The Women’s Rights Convention at Seneca Falls, New York, in July
1848, an important event in the history of feminism, had marked
the beginning of an organized Women’s Movement and had
succeeded in bringing about significant changes in the status of
women in the West, not merely in their legal rights, but also in the
realm of their status in society. Hence, the Christian missionary
women who followed Revs Brown and Cutter to Assam, brought
with them a certain perspective from newly Independent America,
which advocated a prominent and dignified role for women and
 An Analysis of the American Baptist Missionary Sources 585

had much to do with their crusade against the degradation of

women.
However, during the missionary phase of the spread of Chris­
tianity in the nineteenth century it would do well to remember
that being the official religion of the West from Constantine’s time,
the church had been too closely identified with Western culture.
The church held great power and Western culture built around
Christian principles and values became Christendom.
This leads us to a second point co-related to the first, the
church did not have a constructively critical position from which
to interact with the Assamese society since it was too closely tied
with Western culture. Having no vantage point from which to view
Indian society it believed:
Women in all heathen lands are supposed to be incapable of receiving
such instruction as men, they are not permitted to join in the public
assemblies; besides this, where Brahminism and Muhammedism prevail,
there are zenanas and harems, which are life-long prison houses for the
women, within whose valid portals no man, save the master of the estab­
lishment or some favoured friend is allowed to enter. Women must bear
the gospel to those secluded inmates or they will never hear its words of
promise and hope.16
The evangelicals never considered the Zenana as a collective
workforce but as a place of enforced female isolation, with serious
consequences for the intellectual development of women. In another
instance, pervasive and elaborate accounts of the joint family living
arrangements sought to prove that there was a competitive rather
than a cooperative spirit among the ‘heathen’ women, particu­
larly between mothers-in-law and daughters-in-law, described as
intrinsically hostile to one another. For the middle-class American
women, among whom marriage usually meant a separate house­
hold of one’s own, joint families raised enormous problems of home
management. The use of women as beasts of burden in agricultural
areas was another element of focus in the missionary ethnology.
The absence of girlhood among the ‘heathens’ was used to high­
light their intellectual deprivation as compared to the American
middle-class experience.17 In a songbook inspired by mission­
ary tales, ‘Songs for Little Ones at Home’, British and American
586 Shiela Bora

children learnt that Hindu mothers were capable of killing their

own children. One song described the scene:
See that heathen mother stand
Where the sacred current flows
With her own maternal hands.
Mid the waves her babe she throws.
Send, Oh send, the Bible there,
Let its precept reach the heart;
She may then her children spare
—Act the tender mother’s part.18

Since the missionaries had no vantage point from which to

view Indian culture in its totality, their approach did not permit
them to go beyond certain limits. Their writings, therefore, appear
to have been dominated by the reforms they had attempted. Their
ethnological descriptions of women in Assam, which were often
used to revive cultural stereotypes that were sometimes even dor­
mant, must be used by scholars of gender history with an awareness
of the limited objectivity inherent in the missionary sources.

Notes
1. E. Elizabeth Vickland, Women of Assam, Philadelphia, 1928, Preface.
2. Eulius Sheldon Downs, unpublished autobiography, Hyannis, 1989,
p. 35.
3. Herbert Anderson, Among the Lushais, p. 37.
4. Baptist Missionary Magazine, (BMM), vol. XV, 1861, W. Ward to
Bronson, 31 October 1861, Franklin Trask Library.
5. Ibid., Journal of Mr Whiting, vol. XXXVI, July 1866, p. 395.
6. Ibid., December 1839, Journal of Mr Bronson, p. 286.
7. Helen Barrett Montgomery, Western Women in Eastern Lands:
An Outline of Women’s Work in Foreign Missions, New York, 1910,
pp. 45-6.
8. Ibid., p. 10.
9. Ella Marie Holmes, Sowing the Seed in Assam, p. 136.
10. Woman’s Baptist Foreign Missionary Society, XIIIth Annual Report,
Mission to the Garos on Assam, Ms. M Russell, 1884, p. 80.
11. Ibid., XVIth Annual Report, Ms C. Ella Bond, Gauhati, p. 98.
12. Ibid., XVIIIth Annual session, Ms C. Ella Bond, Gauhati, p. 86.
 An Analysis of the American Baptist Missionary Sources 587

13. Orunudoi, May 1846, vol. 1, no. 5, p. 36.

14. Daniells, The Helping Hand, Nowgong, Assam, October 1900, p. 15.
15. Letter from Ella Marie Holmes to a friend, Gauhati, 1948, Missions
Collections, Yale Divinity School Library.
16. A.M. Bacon, ‘Twenty Years History of the Women’s Baptist Foreign
Missionary Society of the West’, Women’s Baptist Foreign Mission
Society, 1871-1913, p. 3.
17. Joan Jacobs Brumberg, Zenanas and Girlless Villages: The Ethnology
of American Evangelical Women, 1870-1910, pp. 355-63.
18. Sushil Madhave Pathak, American Missionaries and Hinduism, New
Delhi, 1967, p. 81.
 CHAPTER 25

Naga Conversions to Christianity in Manipur

in the Twentieth Century
TH. R. TIBA

The coming of the Christian missionaries, particularly the

American Baptist Mission, to the Naga Hills in the late nineteenth
century and the subsequent spread of the new religion did produce
many changes. However, unlike many of the Naga tribes among
whom the conversion started much earlier, the Maram Nagas
embraced Christianity only in the second half of the twentieth
century. The Maram Nagas are one of the various Naga tribes mostly
inhabiting the Senapati district of Manipur. Their total population
is about 59,633*. It was in the year 1949 that seven Maram Naga
village youths took baptism at Ngu River near the present site of
the village, Tumuyon Khullen.6 Then conversion to Christianity
started at a slow pace in the 1950s. However, it was in the 1960s
that conversion began in earnest and at a rapid pace. At this time,
there were already two Christian missions—the American Baptist
Mission and the Roman Catholic Mission in Manipur. Thus, in this
article, an attempt is being made to ascertain as to why conversion
to Christianity, especially by the American Baptist Mission, had
been difficult, with certain tribes, like the Marams, and analyse the
reasons for later, large-scale, conversion to Roman Catholicism.
A mission centre was established near the Inspection Bungalow,
Kangpokpi,1 as early as 1919,2 which was a stone’s throw from
Tumuyon Khullen, a Maram Naga village.

* Maram Naga Hoho Statistic Book, 2005.

590 Th. R. Tiba

Clashes between Old Practices and Christian Doctrine

The Naga tribes, in general, are known to the outside world as
headhunters, wild, savage and so on. They maintained strict
adherence to their beliefs and practices, holding their customs
dear, yet their resistance melted when they encountered the
Christian missionaries. There are many factors that led the Nagas
to convert to Christianity. The Nagas have not adopted any of the
traits of the neighbouring cultures, though they are contiguous to
the Hindus—Assamese and Meitei; and the Buddhist Burmese.
The Nagas had never known social stratification other than the
clan system, sadung, communal life other than that of the village,
economy other than the barter system, traditions of central
political authority other than village kinship, intensive wet paddy
cultivation other than terraced or jhumming, stable priesthood
other than village priesthood, literary traditions other than folk
songs and dances or any other attributes of the surrounding
civilizations. The people had remained remarkably isolated from
the surrounding civilizations. Thus, the two cultures, that of the
plain Burmese, Meitei and Ahom and that of the Nagas, remained
apart. The Naga villages, which were their only economic unit,
were self-sufficient, economically, as they did not have many
needs or wants then, and hence, they never developed trading
relationships with neighbouring Hindu and Buddhist societies
of the plains. Even within the hills, the various Naga languages
were so mutually unintelligible that communication between
villages or communities of villages had to be carried out by sign
language. Walls and pits on the hilltop or edge of the mountain
range defended the villages from sudden raids and ambushes, and
moreover fortified the villages. No formal communication between
villages existed, whether they belonged to the same tribe or other
Naga tribes. Thus these villages were somehow comparable to the
Greek city-states or polis. The inter-village warfare or the so-called
head-hunting was fundamental to Naga culture—as one of its
most distinctive attributes. The distinction lay in the pattern of this
institutionalized violence, which was one of the most important
factors for localization or isolation of the villages. To others, the
 Naga Conversions to Christianity in Manipur 591

Nagas’ world was very narrow and limited as it consisted of only his
co-villagers and clansmen, including his potential enemies.3 Thus,
the Nagas lived a very secluded life, brave and intrepid as they
were. On top of these, hemmed in on all the sides by the massive
mountain ranges and by the very wall on the typical village hilltop,
most Naga groups developed religious systems that were very
locality-specific. The Maram Nagas were no exception. However,
the Marams were one of the Naga tribes to accept Christianity,
the last, after the mission period. The Marams who observed strict
adherence to their old beliefs and practices came in sharp contrast
to the Christian missionaries’ views, especially those of the Baptist.4
One of the dreadful things in the Maram Naga country prior to the
spread of the gospel was the continual warfare.5
Most of the American Baptist missionaries who worked in
north-eastern India were British nationals affiliated to the denom­
ination of the ‘Southern Baptist’ of American Baptist Mission. The
Protestants in the United States of America formed themselves
into the ‘Southern Baptist Convention’ in 1845.6 These Southern
Baptists were those who broke away from the North, primarily on
the question of slavery. The South had a large number of slaves and
they considered it a necessary evil and justified it on the ground
that the Negroes came into contact with the gospel because of the
white masters.7
The coming of the missionaries to the Naga Hills and subse­
quently to the hills in Manipur was not a planned programme.
The missionaries in Burma, Bengal and Assam did not give much
importance to the Nagas nor were they aware of the Naga country.
The American Baptist Mission actually waited for a chance to go to
China via Burma through Shan, but they shifted their mission to
Sadiya and later to Sibsagar.8 For nearly 23 years, the missionaries
had been preaching to the people of the Assam plains with the
notion and the flattering belief that a vast number of people would
be accessible to mission work, which would also be a connecting
link between India, northern Burma and China.9 But they had
little hope of a prosperous harvest in the plains of Assam among
Assamese who were deeply rooted in Hinduism, and amongst the
tribes in the plains. Thus, they turned elsewhere—to the mountain
592 Th. R. Tiba

tribes. This move proved to be one of their greatest successes. The

Christian conversion movement of the Nagas became one of the
largest mass movements of Christianity in Asia. The Christian
population among the Nagas by 1980 was approximately 80.2 per
cent and by 1990 it was around 90 per cent. The Ao Nagas, who
were heavily proselytized between the 1880s and the 1950s, led all
other Naga groups in converting to Christianity in the early stages
when the gospel reached the Naga Hills. The Tangkhul Nagas, who
were equally proselytized between 1894 and the 1950s, were also
converted to Christianity in large numbers, and led other Naga
tribes in Manipur into converting. On the other hand, the Angami
Nagas, who were also heavily proselytized in the same period,
responded at a far slower pace, as did the Lotha Nagas. But the
Sema Nagas, who were virtually ignored by missionaries in this
period, readily took on a Christianity identity. The Maram Nagas
who were just near the mission centre, Kangpokpi, did not con­
vert to Christianity during this period in spite of the efforts by
American Baptist missionaries. The study here, then, is to account
for these very different outcomes. Nagas, as a whole, converted
most dramatically only after the dismantling of the colonial state
and the expulsion of foreign missionaries by the newly indepen­
dent Government of India. Thus except perhaps the Zeliangrong
Nagas, the rest of the Nagas had converted to Christianity by the
last quarter of the twentieth century.
The early Baptist missionaries in Manipur, like William Pet­
tigrew, Dr Crozier, Rev. Anderson and others, were men who
matched their counterparts in Naga Hills like E.W. Clark, C.D.
King, and S.W. Rivenburg, among others, in zeal and enthusiasm.
They studied local languages, established schools and boarding
houses and made use of medicines to approach the local populace.
The long and arduous years spent by the missionaries in Manipur
left behind a saga of dedication and sacrifice. When the Maram
Nagas decided to accept Christianity, a lot of human factors came
into play.
Rev. John S. Anderson, the last foreign missionary, used to
visit Tumuyon Khullen, the Maram Naga village, from the Kang­
pokpi mission centre.10 But the elders, who spread rumours that
 Naga Conversions to Christianity in Manipur 593

Pringchi, which means white men or British, were soul-killers, it

thwarted all his attempts at conversion.11 Their fear heightened
when the missionaries took snapshots and showed these to them.
People believed that the Pringchi had captured their souls. Another
popular rumour was that, if anyone looked at the white men’s face,
they would die. At this time, one of the students from the village,
who was studying at Kangpokpi Mission School, Akeng, died due
to illness and this strengthened the villagers’ belief that the white
men were soul-killers.12 Thereafter, all the students from the village
were withdrawn from the school by the elders. Thus, due to this
obstinate and suspicious nature of the Marams, no breakthrough
could be achieved during his period. But Anderson encouraged
Mao Naga preachers to contact the Marams, especially those at
Tumuyon Khullen village. He, too, visited the village time and
again, and whenever he visited, he would come riding a horse and
preach the gospel, holding a cat. Anderson thus made contact with
a local youth, called Kaping, for conversion and eventually con­
tacted about 30 youths in the village. However, when the elders
came to know about their interpersonal relationship, they threat­
ened and persuaded other youths to adhere to the old practices.
Thus they managed to prevent many young people from being
converted to Christianity. In spite of all these hurdles, seven youths
stood firm and decided not to change their decision to convert,
come what may. Kangngouning was then sügong, the village chief,
and R. Ngouning was the gongpai, gaonbura or deputy. They, along
with their council of elders, decided to impose a fine of Rs. 50.13
on whoever embraced Christianity. Despite all this intimidation,
the seven youths refused to turn back and finally the village coun­
cil of elders or the authority was compelled to expel them. They
were asked to leave the village within 15 days.14 These seven youths
became the ‘Pioneers of Christianity’ amongst the Marams. On
that fateful day, under a heavy downpour, the seven converts, with
all their belongings, passed through the village gate amid jeers,
taunts, scoffs, tears and threats of the villagers and made a three-
hour journey northward to settle at a place called Duilongpou
where they established a new, all-Christian village at the foot of
the hill which is now called Tumuyon Khullen. Although the new
594 Th. R. Tiba

village struggled to survive in the beginning, its residents somehow

managed to beat the odds with the support and help of residents of
the neighbouring village, Takaimei.15 Slowly but steadily, isolated
families from the old village trickled into the new one, as it became
apparent that the new village would be permanent, not to mention
its better location. The seven youths were baptized by Lorho Mao,
an evangelist from Punanamei, at Ngu, a river, on 19 September
1949. Thereafter, the first Maram Naga church was established
at Tumuyon Khullen with K. Adani of Punanamei as the first
pastor (1950-3) with a salary of Rs. 20, sponsored by Rev. J.S.
Anderson. From this village, Christianity spread to other Maram
Naga villages.
Apart from the theological dimensions manifest in the conver­
sions, the main social dimensions of Christian conversion among
the Maram Nagas are already evident from the discussion so far.
First, it is clear that conversion to Christianity generally occurred
at the expense of village cohesiveness; and second, one notes the
pattern of village elders initially opposing the movement but even­
tually joining or even leading it.
One could notice in the preaching of the American Baptist
missionaries the strict Christian doctrinal teachings, perhaps con­
ditioned by the environment that brought them up in their native
place. The Baptist missionaries were not willing to allow certain
traditional customs to remain.16 For instance, in the Naga Hills,
Rev. Clark insisted his tiny band of 15 followers observe Sunday as
a day of rest, which directly interfered with the rhythm and rou­
tine of Naga village life. The missionaries in the hills of Manipur
also came into conflict with the local practices because almost all
the works of the Naga villages were done on community basis; and
any interference with that rhythm naturally undermined a village’s
economic functioning, not to mention its ritual solidarity.
Thus, when the Baptist missionaries came face to face with the
Maram Nagas, the two, already conditioned by their own cultural
backgrounds, could not compromise on many grounds. One of
the important things the Marams could not compromise on was
the drinking of rice beer.17 Drinking bouts were part and parcel of
the Maram Naga’s life. Although the government and the mission
 Naga Conversions to Christianity in Manipur 595

agreed concerning education and respecting most areas of Nagas’

culture, they clashed over how much of the local culture should
be preserved, altered or abolished outright. Interested primarily in
maintaining peace and security, the government aimed to interfere
with native customs as little as possible. However, the missionaries
felt differently. To them, the people were very interesting, but that
was not the main purpose of the missionaries being there, simply
to study these interesting people, but to strive and help them to
reach the gospel to every nook and corner of the world. The gov­
ernment, though, was keen to study the people per se, leading to
many anthropological works on the Nagas by British government
officials and other Europeans, including T.C. Hudson, W.C. Smith,
C.V. Haimendorf, J.H. Hutton and J.P Mills, among others.
For receiving baptism, the candidates were required to pass a
stiff examination on knowledge of Christian doctrine and furnish
evidence that they had not participated in any ‘heathen ritual’ or
drinking of ‘rice beer’ over the last three months. One of the prob­
lems encountered here was that the missionaries infused into their
understanding of Christian values acquired from their upbringing
in the Southern Baptists of America, which clashed very strikingly
with Maram Naga values. A more fundamental problem was that
in Maram religion, ‘heathen rituals’ could not simply be isolated
and excised out of the matrix of Maram culture in which they were
embedded.18 Some missionaries seem to have recognized this, but
most seem not to have cared.19 It was the core factor on which the
comparative attractiveness of the Roman Catholic and American
Baptist denominations would hinge.
One basic Naga institution discouraged by the Baptist mis­
sionaries, presumably because of its association with their old
beliefs, was the ‘Feast of Merit’. The Marams, known for their
megalithic culture, quite often pull huge stones from nearby riv­
ers and streams. On such occasions, there would be a carefully
ranked sequence of feasts given by individuals for their village or
for their clan within a larger village, the giving of which raised the
sponsor’s position in the eyes of his peers, thereby constituting a
major channel of social mobility. Great quantities of food supplies
were expended during the ‘Feast of Merit’ and it occasioned much
596 Th. R. Tiba

drinking and merrymaking. Economically, too, they were impor­

tant since they permitted an equitable distribution of perishable
food supplies, which, without adequate means of preservation,
would otherwise have spoiled. And finally, there was this Baptist’s
rigid stand against the drinking of rice beer, a drink that was cen­
tral to the ‘Feast of Merit’ and most other ceremonies. In fact, the
neophytes developed such an obsession with this that the word,
joukashakmei, literally ‘drinkers’, came to be popularly associated
with non-Christians.

Geographical Factor
Various parts of Naga inhabited areas in the Naga Hills that lay
in the south-eastern part of the Himalayan mountain range are
not the same in strictly geographical terms—soil, topography,
climatic conditions, weather, humidity, etc. Thus the staple crops
of various tribes differ from one another. It is to be noted that the
various Naga tribes speaking the same language or dialect live in
contiguous areas. The areas where certain Naga tribes (Tinyimi,
Angami, Chakesang, Rengma, Zeliangrong, Mao, Maram, Poumei,
Mao, Pochury, Thangal) reside are blessed with alluvial soil suited
for rice cultivation. Many areas in these parts practise terraced
cultivation. Thus the people have a more or less stable crop or rich
harvest in comparison with other Naga tribes where jhuming was
the dominant agricultural practice. In drier areas, millets, maize,
etc., are cultivated. It is in these areas where terraced farming was
predominant. People could afford to brew rice beer due to surplus
till the next harvest. Drinking bouts were, thus, a tradition. Maram
Nagas lived in such a location. One could notice in the preaching
of the American Baptist missionaries strict Christian doctrinal
teachings, perhaps conditioned by the environment that brought
them up in their native place. The Baptist missionaries were not
willing to allow certain traditional customs to remain. Thus when
Baptist missionaries tried to convert the people, it failed. Drinking
bouts and merrymaking had become part and parcel of the Maram
Naga life.
In many of the Maram Naga villages, there were hangshüki
 Naga Conversions to Christianity in Manipur 597

and lhüsoiki—dormitories for boys and girls. Besides many other

things, it was the focal point for major village celebrations and
feasts that marked its ritual years. The missionaries were against
the converts sleeping in the village dormitory. In a Christian vil­
lage, one might notice the non-existence of a dormitory, e.g. in
Tumuyon Khullen Baptist village there is none, but there were
dormitories for both the sexes at Maramei Namdi (Maram Khul­
len) and Willong (Roman Catholic villages) till recently. On this
issue, the Baptist missionaries clashed with the traditional culture.
However, the Catholic missionaries did not object to this custom.20
Because of these conflicts between Maram culture and the
behaviour upheld by the Baptist missionaries, many converts
appeared to do a good deal of wavering and wobbling in terms of
religious allegiance. It was in the wake of hectic missionary activity
by the Baptists, that the European Catholic missionaries came to
Maram areas. When the missionaries came, they did not try to
change the customs of the people but to keep intact their exist­
ing culture rather than removing the local practices and replacing
these by the Western mode of behaviour.21 The Marams, who were
very fond of the ‘Feast of Merit’ and drinking bouts and averse
to the rules of strict discipline as laid down by Baptist missionar­
ies such as the observance of Sundays as rest days or Sabbath or
very formal and strict adherence to Christian doctrine, chose the
Catholic faith in significant numbers. Unlike many of the Naga
tribes, the Marams had turned to a religion that did not interfere
with their traditional practices. In many of the Catholic villages,
the dormitory system lasted for a longer period and the Roman
Catholic priests do not object to or discourage the brewing of rice
beer till today. The number of Roman Catholics in percentage is
higher in the case of Maram Nagas as compared to any other Naga
tribe. And thus it was due to such stringent criteria of conver­
sion that the number of baptized Christians were always smaller
then the total number of those who follow Christianity. Given the
exclusive attitude of the Baptist missionaries, on the one hand, and
the integrity of Maram religion with village life, on the other, it is
obvious that severe social tensions were generated wherever the
missionaries or village teachers trained in their schools preached.
598 Th. R. Tiba

Missionaries’ records are replete with stories of such conflict.22 But,

the causes for the village elders’ consternation are not hard to find.
After converting to Christianity, Marams often refused to contrib­
ute their share towards celebration of village festivals. In spite of all
these, the Christian community continues to grow. In 1949, there
was only one church—which was Baptist. By 1952, that number
rose to three and by 1962, there were six churches. By 2006, there
were 21 churches belonging to Baptist denomination. There were
about eight Roman Catholic churches by 2006.

The Conversion
The growth of the churches and conversion in the 1950s and 1960s
to Christianity—of the Protestant (American Baptist Mission) and
Roman Catholic denominations—cannot be explained strictly in
non-religious terms. Conversion to Christianity among the Naga
tribes is to be found in certain particular forms of interaction
between Naga religious cosmology and their social relations, each
of which influences the other.23 Maram Nagas were no exception.
The extension of the British administration in the late nine­
teenth and early twentieth centuries to the Naga Hills and the
extension of indirect rule in the hills of Manipur after the 1891 Pal­
ace Revolution brought dramatic changes in the material culture
of the Nagas. Their age-old method of bamboo friction devices for
making fire, the reed torch, etc., was rendered obsolete with the
introduction of safety matches, lantern and the like. The advent
of British eroded some of the most fundamental institutions of
the village, particularly the institutionalized inter-village warfare.
Traditionally, such warfare demanded rigid discipline and train-
ing—the youth dormitory in the village had its utility as a sort of
barrack then. Christianity not only brought about the removal of
village defences and curbs against carrying arms, including spears,
but also a quartering of troops among more turbulent villages, and
an occasional demonstration of military might in others. How­
ever, the price of this peace was the gradual erosion of traditional
village authority and the martial values on which that authority
 Naga Conversions to Christianity in Manipur 599

rested. The traditional chiefs who were the leaders of the com­
munity started losing their grip over the younger warriors. And it
was the youngsters who responded more readily to the new reli­
gion, Christianity. To codify the customary law, British employed
educated Naga interpreters, and, as it happened, many of these
interpreters were educated under the tutelage of missionaries, or
they were either Christian, or willing to become Christian.24
But, it would be a grave mistake to see the conversion of the
Maram Nagas as merely a function of social change. Although
Maram Nagas have been subjected to intense exposure to both the
mission and government [the mission compound at Kangpokpi
established in 1920 (1919) was located in the heart of Maram
Nagas inhabited areas], there was hardly any conversion during
mission period. But the Mao Nagas, who were quite far away from
the mission centre and the administrative headquarters of govern­
ment at Imphal, had a far greater number of converts.
When one examines how the various Naga cosmologies were
related to the particular social situations in which they operated,
and then explores the manner in which the Christian cosmology
was made to fit into these various religious systems, a coherent
explanation begins to emerge. There is an important cognitive
realm that feeds back into the society of its believers, providing
that society with conceptual categories by which its immediate
phenomenal world might be explained, predicted and controlled.
One can understand the capacity of their conceptual categories
to explain, predict and control the phenomenal social order they
experienced, and the ways in which they responded to Christian
religious categories by knowing the nature of the Nagas’ cognitive
realm.
In using this approach, there are two variables that one finds—
that Christianity was not presented uniformly among Naga groups,
and that the Christian cosmology was fitted well into certain Naga
religious systems or beliefs better than that of other different tribes.
It is also found that various Naga communities experienced differ­
ent dimensions of social change before and during their exposure
to Christian influence, which ultimately affected their different
600 Th. R. Tiba

responses to that influence. And, by examining the Maram Nagas’

cosmological structure, one can understand the way in which
Christianity penetrated that cosmology rather at a very slow pace.
Pümpü Pramha is the supreme God of the Marams. The
supreme deity was believed to live high in the sky and to be con­
cerned with the ultimate destiny of all men. All living creatures go
to get the blessings. The precise nature of the deity, however, was
apparently vague in the minds of the people. The supreme deity
appears to be so remote and exercised only theoretical power and
seems not to possess effective control over man’s ultimate des­
tiny. There were other deities who did. Aki-rükot, a house god, is
another deity that protects the house. Every family had its own
deity. Marams generally built their house facing east, in order to
gratify this deity. If Aki-rükot is happy and good, the descendants
of the particular household will prosper and live a good life. There
were several less significant deities as well, among the Maram
Nagas.
One of the most significant cognitive dimensions to the
introduction of Christianity among the Nagas is that it was accom­
panied by literacy and that the first literature presented to them
was Christian literature. Literary work in the languages of the
Tangkhuls and the Kukis (one of the Kuki-Chin tribes) in Mani­
pur Hills and Aos, Semas, Angamis and Rengmas in Naga Hills
was taken up before conversion. And the impact of literacy on the
religious outlook of pre-literate societies was immense. The works
were mostly translations of Bible scriptures. Most of the missionar­
ies carried out their agenda of conversion among the Aos, Semas,
Angamis and Tangkhuls by using the mission school educated
students. There were only a handful of foreign missionaries. The
missionaries selectively sent these mission educated Naga students
to their respective areas for propagation of the gospel. The mis­
sionaries, witnessing this revolution of literacy, seem to have been
vaguely prescient of its enormous impact. In 1944, for example,
the first literature ever printed in the Rengma Naga language was
the Book of Mathew and the first Christian scripture to appear in
Angami was the Book of Mathew translated by Stanley Rivenburg
and published in 1890. The Christian Almighty God was identified
 Naga Conversions to Christianity in Manipur 601

with the Nagas’ most revered and highest god, Lungkijinba in Ao,
Ukepenopfu in Angami. However, this was not so in the case of the
Maram Nagas. There was hardly any literate person till the mission
period. And the gospel songbooks were some of the earliest lit­
eratures in Maram Naga. And the pace of conversion was awfully
slow. There must be some reasons behind this.
For all their condemnation of the social dimension of Naga
religion, the American Baptist Missionaries leaned very heavily on
its cosmological dimension. The Marams had the notion of sin and
need for salvation and they had an apocalyptic vision that closely
approximated the Day of Judgement. The Marams had terms for
hell, heaven, salvation, end of the world, etc., closely approximat­
ing Christian beliefs or doctrines. However, these teachings could
never reach Maram areas during the mission period. One aspect
for which the people turn to the new teachings was the Christian
deity’s perceived ability to deliver men from the fear of malevolent
spirits. In 1947, at Tumuyon Khullen when some 30-40 people
decided to convert to Christianity, the village elders threatened
those who were ready to convert, that malevolent spirits struck
them down, like the young boy from the village who expired at
the mission compound in Kangpokpi, while studying.25 It was on
7 June that the seven Christians were asked to leave the village
amidst a heavy downpour. They were all drenched when they
started their journey. But when they reached one mountain range,
the rain stopped completely and there was bright sunshine. There
they dried their clothes and proceeded to Duilong Pou to set up a
new village. Their belief in the new religion was strengthened by
the good weather after they offered prayer. And the villagers were
taken aback that nothing unusual happened. One more Maram
Nagas belief in their deity had thereby been discredited.
Another reason for the slow progress or acceptability of Chris­
tianity was that, unlike other Naga tribes, for whom the political
system of village councils was composed of elders representing
various clans, Maram villages were generally ruled by an auto­
cratic chief who belonged to a single ruling lineage that extended
throughout these villages. This powerful chief directed the vil­
lages in war, decided all matters of relations with other villages
602 Th. R. Tiba

and determined which land the village could cultivate. Thus, it was
very difficult to bring in a new religion to the village. Till now,
the sagong, the king of Maramei Namdi, is a hereditary post and a
convert cannot sit on the throne.
Some try to articulate the salient features of Naga cosmology
for identification with the Christian God26 in explaining conver­
sions. But with regard to the Marams, the conversion has to do
with the culture much more than the cosmology or the pantheon.
Despite its administrative integration with the rest of British
India, the hills in Manipur had been comparatively more cut-off
from the rest of the world than the Naga Hills in the north. Then
suddenly Maram areas were engulfed by the chaos of modern
mechanized warfare when the entire Naga Hills became a major
theatre of the conflict. It culminated in March 1944, when Japanese
slammed through Southeast Asia and the rugged Burma-India
frontier and launched massive attacks on Kohima and Imphal
resulting in the famous pitched battle fought at Maram on 18 June
1944. However, in July, the Japanese were driven off though not
without having caused grievous hardship to the Nagas whose
villages had been pillaged, destroyed or occupied and who, them­
selves, were often tortured or executed by the Japanese. Tumuyon
Khullen village was under siege for almost six months. Two per­
sons were killed by Japanese troops and the village was bombarded
many times by British aircraft, as it was used by the Japanese as a
launching pad to attack the British stationed at Kangpokpi, their
inspection bungalow and the mission centre.
Dramatic changes like the Second World War took place but
the people’s religious behaviour remained unchanged. In fact,
Tumuyon Khullen was under siege by the Japanese troops from
the early part of 1944 till autumn. Thus, to say that religious change
was exclusively a function of social change would be fatuous. Cer­
tainly, various factors combined to result in mass conversions. The
most important was the attitude of the missionaries towards the
Maram culture. The Baptist missionaries were completely against
the habit of drinking especially in the dormitory and non-obser­
vance of Sabbath. But in the case of the Catholic missionaries, they
were not against practice of age old-traditions like drinking bouts,
 Naga Conversions to Christianity in Manipur 603

the dormitory system and the like. Thus, one may notice the exis­
tence of bachelor’s dormitory in predominantly Catholic villages
like Maramei Namdi (Maram Khullen) and Willong villages but
not at Tumuyon Khullen, Tapumei and Tamei. This very approach
made the Maram Nagas turn to the new teachings of Catholicism.
When looking at the Maram community, a good number of Chris­
tians here belong to the Roman Catholic denomination. Indeed,
the Marams are the only Naga tribe wherein the percentage of
the population belonging to the Roman Catholic denomination
is higher as indicated due to non-interference in the local custom
of drinking, restricting work on Sundays, etc. The Baptist strictly
prohibited converts from drinking rice beer, which was central
to traditional feasts. In fact, the missionaries developed such an
obsession with the issue of non-drinking that it is often regarded
as the outstanding mark of a Christian. And, the newly converts
regard the non-Baptist Marams, be they Catholic or non-Christian
as jou-kashak-mei which literally means ‘drinker’, as mentioned
earlier. In conclusion, we can say that many factors were account­
able for the conversions.

Maram Scenario
To be sure, some local missionaries seem to have realized that
Maram religion could not simply be isolated and excised out of
the matrix of Maram culture in which it was embedded.27 And
without doubt, colonial rule destabilized venerable Maram Naga
cultural institutions. The result of imperial criminalization of
head-hunting and inter-village warfare was that the people’s ethos
of a rigid discipline weakened and the village chiefs who were
the leaders of the community started losing their hold over their
younger warriors. Indeed, it was the same younger warriors who
were responding most readily to the teachings of the Christian
doctrine. The price of this peace though gradual was the erosion of
traditional village authority and the martial values on which that
authority rested.
The process of opening up the hills also eroded some of
the most fundamental institutions of the villages, such as the
604 Th. R. Tiba

institutionalized warfare and the dormitory system. Inter-village

warfare demanded rigid discipline and training and the dormitory
had functioned in part as a sort of barrack. But, the advent of the
Baptist missionaries with strict doctrinal teachings of not allowing
the new converts to sleep in the dormitory curbed the drinking
bouts and the feasts of merit. The price of this discipline was the
disappearance of dormitories in Baptist Christianized villages and
complete stoppage of fighting or warfare.28 However, in villages,
which are predominantly Roman Catholic, for example Maram
Namdi and Willong, the dormitory system, brewing of rice beer,
drinking bouts and other age-old practices continue to exist.
The advent of missionaries and the subsequent spread of Chris­
tianity disrupted the smooth traditional functioning of the village
council. There were no incidents of disunity and quarrelling in
the village assembly among the villagers. This, however, might be
partly due to inter-village warfare. But the advent of Christianity
brought about disunity within the village. This ultimately resulted
in the formation of many new villages out of the old parent village.
Villages like Kavainam, Pang Maram, New Maram, Sügongbam,
Katomei and a few others are all Christian breakaway villages from
Maramei Namdi, Willong, etc. Of all these villages, only Tumuyon
Khullen was fully Christianized. In most of the Maram villages,
Christians were persecuted and threatened with expulsion from
the village and clan inheritance, as well as restricted from culti­
vating their common land. Thereafter, the newer villages were not
built on the hilltops but near paddy fields. It was now more out of
economic consideration than as a defence strategy.
Lastly, it’s essential to mention that Maram religion was quite
simple although it contained elaborate rituals associated with
agricultural life. A review of their religious life leads to a sum­
mary outline of the mystery surrounding the suspicious rigidity
and strong detestation for interference in the daily routine of the
Maram Nagas which resulted in their non-acceptance of Christi­
anity for so long till that resistance was overcome by other local
missionaries.
 Naga Conversions to Christianity in Manipur 605

Notes
1. Elungkiebe Zeliang, History of the Christianity in Manipur: Source
Material, p. 61.
2. Ibid., pp. 79, 82.
3. Christoph von Fürer-Haimendorf, ‘Morality and Prestige among the
Nagas’, in Pradhan (ed.), Anthropology and Archaeology: Essays in
Commomeration of Verrier Elwin, 1957-64, Oxford University Press;
1969, p. 156.
4. Th. R. Tiba, American Baptist Mission, pp. 45-6. Roman Catholic
missionaries had by then, i.e. in 1950s reached Maram Nagas areas.
5. Tiba, ‘History and Culture of the Maram Nagas’, PhD thesis
submitted to the Department of History, Assam University, Silchar,
2006, chapter on ‘Polity’.
6. Tiba, American Baptist Mission, op. cit., p. 46.
7. Thomas Menamparampil, Church History, p. 54.
8. Philip, Baptist Churches, p. 51.
9. American Baptist Mission Union, 44th Annual Report, May 1858,
p. 16.
10. Ibid., 50.
11. Interview of Akeng (one of the seven Christian pioneers) of Tumuyon
Khullen village on 6 April 2006.
12. Interview of Abung (one of the seven Christian pioneers) of
Tumuyon Khullen village on 7 January 2006.
13. This fine was imposed when 30 youths decided to convert to
Christianity. A hefty amount during those days.
14. Tiba, American Baptist Mission, op. cit., p. 71.
15. Interview of Pou Tuitalong (93-years old) of Tamuilong village on
6 April 2006.
16. Mary M. Clark, A Corner in India, p. 17.
17. Tiba, American Baptist Mission, op. cit., p. 72.
18. Ibid., pp. 75-6.
19. Ibid., p. 76.
20. Joseph Athichal, Maram Nagas: A Socio-Cultural Study, p. 159. For
details see his interview with Fr Bianchi SDB and Fr John Med.
Fr Bianchi is Italian and Father John Med is Czech.
21. Ibid., p. 159.
22. In the village Tumuyon Khullen, the seven youths were expelled
as their new faith came into serious conflict with the traditional
606 Th. R. Tiba

customs and practices, when they stood firm in their decision to

convert to Christianity.
23. Richard M. Eaton, Conversion to Christianity Among the Nagas,
1876-1971, p. 21. He studied the conversion with regard to the
Angami, Ao and Sema Nagas, 1984, pp. 23-44.
24. Some of the people who acted as interpreters were barred by the
village elders to convert. A. Kaping who acted as interpreter was
warned with dire consequences by the village authority of Tamuilong.
25. Interview of Pou Tuitalong (93 years old) of Tamuilong village on
7 April 2006.
26. Eaton, op. cit., p. 25.
27. Tiba, op. cit., pp. 76-7.
28. Ibid.

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1876-1971’, The Indian Economic and Social History Review.
, Essays on Islam, Oxford University Press, New Delhi, 2007.
Rowena Robinson and Sathianathan Clarke (ed.), Religious Conversion in
India, Oxford University Press, New Delhi, 2007.
 CHAPTER 26

Gendered Mission
The Zenana Work of the American Baptist Mission
in Assam (1836-1950)*

TEJIMALA GURUNG

Interest in the phenomenon of missionary enterprise has led to

the examination of critical aspects of Christian missions defined
by area and theme. One such area has been the focus on studying
missions as highly gendered in its activities and in a wider context
even functioning as agents of cultural imperialism.1 Conventionally,
writings on missionary enterprise had tended to overlook the
gendered nature of Christian missions while at the same time
ignoring the important role played by women’s agency.2 The
Zenana3 mission or the ‘Woman’s Work for Woman’ has been one
such sphere which encompassed women’s missionary endeavour
from the later period of the nineteenth century. In contrast to
other imperial enterprise where few white women played a minor
role, women were omnipresent in Christian missions.4 In north­
east India, with few exceptions,5 the historiography of Christianity
has tended to focus, in general on mission and denominational
church histories and its growth. A critical study of the gendered
nature of Christian missions and the role of its women agents in

*This paper is a revised version of an earlier paper published as

‘The Zenana Work of the American Baptist Mission in Assam during
the Nineteenth Century’, in Quest, The Journal of Vivekananda Cultural
Centre, Guwahati, vol. V, no. 2 (January 2012), pp. 54-76. The writer is
thankful to the UGC-SAP-DSA II of Department of History, NEHU,
Shillong for financial assistance received for archival work.
610 Tejimala Gurung

the evangelical project has not received scholarly attention. The

present paper seeks to examine the Zenana work of one such
foreign mission—the American Baptist Mission in colonial Assam
locating it in the wider context of modern missionary endeavour
and changes in mission strategy.
The concept of Zenana mission to India developed during the
nineteenth century as an evangelical strategy by Christian mis­
sions, owing to the practice of seclusion of women followed in both
Hindu and Muslim societies in which women of respectable fami­
lies were not allowed to come out openly in the public. Confronted
with the above social phenomena, the need for an outfit in this
area of missionary work wherein men were physically or socially
prohibited but where women could be admitted was keenly felt.
Hence the practice of a gendered sphere of activity designed ‘for
woman by woman’ was rationalized by the mission to gain access
to the women. Within the domestic space women were visualized
as the guide and mentor of their children, and as shaping men’s
morals and manners. As such ‘uneducated’ Indian women were
seen as barriers to religious conversion and all progress. In a nut­
shell, the women were seen as the main support of paganism and
obstacle to the progress of the gospel in India. In the words of Ger­
aldine Forbes, ‘Clearly the Christian faith and Christian attitudes
and habits could never be firmly established in India until the
women had been touched.’6 In missionary ethnology, which was
essentially didactic in purpose, zenana came to be portrayed as a
symbol of ‘enforced female isolation’ of ‘mental torpor’ and female
debasement, which needed to be penetrated to undermine the
social foundations of ‘heathen’ nations.7 Post-1860s the zenana as
a site came to be rationalized for the creation of a separate women’s
foreign mission society to work among ‘heathen women’.8
Missionary texts relating to Zenana work often provide a
hybrid genre which incorporate geographical descriptions, eco­
nomic activities, diseases, etc., besides ethnographic details of
native culture, religious customs, beliefs and practices including
graphic accounts of the missionary encounter with the indig­
enous women in the field. As a type of micro-history, such a study
provides insights into the shaping of colonial modernity and its
 Gendered Mission 611

implications on gender roles, relations and status of women. The

women missionaries not only interpreted foreign cultures for those
back home, in turn they also had an influence in reformulating the
gender roles of women they set out to convert.
In India, the social context for the entry of Zenana missions
was provided with the establishment of British colonial rule and the
growth of various acculturative socio-religious reform movements
during the nineteenth century. The period saw the articulation by
Indian intellectuals of the need for upliftment of the position of
women who were victims of age-old socio-religious customs and
practices. From a utilitarian point of view it was considered to be
useful to prepare the high caste women for their roles to be suit­
able housewives and companions of the western educated Indians.

Contextualizing the Zenana Mission

The pioneers of the modern missionary movement had very early
on stressed the importance of evangelizing the women and had
grasped the fact that in India at least the native women could be
reached primarily by women.9 But organized missionary activity,
specifically by women and for women, did not take place until
1867 when The Baptist Zenana Mission of the Baptist Missionary
Society was set up in London to ‘support ladies for Zenana visiting
and teaching’. Similar was the case with the American Board of
Commissioners for Foreign Missions (ABCFM) set up in 1810,
though during the first 50 years of the nineteenth century, about
a dozen women’s societies for foreign missionary work were
established in America. The Boston Female Society for Missionary
Purposes (the pioneer organization for foreign missionary work
among women), established in 1800,10 was involved with collecting
of funds to help in mission work generally. It was only in the
1860s that a veritable women’s foreign mission crusade took shape
during the close of the American Civil War (1861-5). In November
1860, the Woman’s Union Missionary Society of America, a non­
denominational organization, was organized and incorporated in
New York, 11 April 1861, with the object of sending out ‘unmarried
females’ in the foreign field. It took India as its main field of work.
612 Tejimala Gurung

Subsequently, missionary services for single women who were

ready to serve outside came to be opened to them increasingly.
The number of women in missionary force increased from 49 per
cent in 1830 to more than 60 per cent in 1893.11
The ‘feminization of foreign missions’ and success of foreign
missionary fund raising have been linked to the women’s rights
movements in the West and growth of the middle class in America
that was recasting the roles of both men and women.12 Since the
early nineteenth century, the Anglo-American intellectual climate
had begun to put a new emphasis on the contributions of women
to society. From the eighteenth century, philosophical thinkers
had begun to challenge the notion of women’s intellectual inferi­
ority, and the ‘incapacity’ of the female mind if there be any, it was
argued, was ‘acquired, it was not natural’. As part of the enlighten­
ment ideas, women were seen as representing the highest ideals of
society, and their treatment and status a reflection of the state of its
civilization. Women were seen as shaping man’s morals and man­
ners, as man’s friend and companion, as social equals, and society
benefited if women were well educated. The nineteenth century
expansion of women’s educational opportunities in America con­
sequently led to increase in female literacy enhancing women’s
status and transforming their relationship specifically to print
culture.13
In the promotional literature which American churchwomen
published beginning from the 1860s, Zenana work figured promi­
nently so much so that the Woman’s Union Missionary Society
was referred to as the Zenana Mission Society?14 This literature
announced that ‘woman’s work for woman’ in the mission field was
intended to ‘ennoble and uplift’ the degraded lives of women in the
east. Christianity was characterized as the liberator of women; only
in Christian lands were women accorded respect and dignity. The
Woman’s Union (1861) served as a model for the establishment
in the year 1871 of the Women’s American Baptist Foreign Mis­
sionary Society (WABFMS) for special work for women among
‘their ignorant and oppressed sisters in heathen.’15 It published a
magazine, the Missionary Link, which exhorted the faithful to con­
tribute money and to consider joining as missionaries. From this
 Gendered Mission 613

time woman’s work for the welfare of woman was to be in woman’s

hand. The WABFMS,16 appointed single women missionaries who
were (i) to teach in established institutions, female seminaries,
orphan homes and high schools, (ii) act as nurses in hospitals, (iii)
visit houses to houses for religious conversion, and (iv) hold spe­
cial women’s meetings of the female church members from week
to week in the homes of the different families. The ‘Woman’s Work
for Woman’ was thus part of the philosophy of social transforma­
tion which occurred in the last three decades of the nineteenth
century.17
As pointed out by Ann White, from the 1820s through the
1860s, missionaries of the ABCFM had seen themselves simply as
communicators of the gospel who had to found native churches
among the ‘heathen’ and not as transformers of culture or enno­
blers of womanhood.18 Missionary literature now came to abound
with the duty of breaking the seclusion of women to enable the task
of Christianizing and civilizing the ‘heathen sisters’. The Zenana
became the arena for the ‘construction’ of the degraded status of
Indian women, which needed to be entered and reformed. The
degrading and cruel customs such as sati, female infanticide, early
marriage, etc., were rationalized as reflection of the low esteem
in which women were held. They were the outward expression of
the inward conviction as to the inferiority and unimportance of
women. The epitome of the Hindu woman’s life as perceived was
‘unwelcomed at birth, untaught in childhood, enslaved in mar­
riage, degraded in widowhood and unlamented at death’. It was
propagated that ‘… indeed, the condition of women generally in all
non-Christian lands is a pitiable one. She is the slave, the drudge or
the plaything of man, rarely his helpmate or companion’.19
And yet these ‘pagan’ women wielded great power, and these
women, because of custom were not accessible to the male mis­
sionaries.
To women even more emphatically than to men it is given to build up
the character of the nation.… Man rows but woman steers.… Whether
as mothers, sisters, teachers or guardians, the training of childhood and
early youth lies chiefly in woman’s hands. It is the women of a country
who mainly form its standard of right.… It is from woman that man
614 Tejimala Gurung

receives his first and most lasting impressions, and the true happiness
and prosperity of any country depends greatly on the condition of its
women.20
Missionary writings exhorted the Christian women of the
west how they with all their ‘glorious wealth’ of freedom, culture
and opportunity, could meet the need of their sisters in the East.
Unless women workers penetrate the homes of the people, the citadel
of superstition and idolatry is left uncaptured. It is in the home that the
fierce and final battle will have to be fought. Let no one underestimate the
tremendous, unobtrusive influence of the heathen mother.21

Hence the need in the mission field for a greater emphasis and
specific focus on woman’s work came to be underlined. Unless
women were reached the prospects of Christianizing was bleak.
Ultimately, the pace and progress of Zenana activity was depen­
dent on the historical development and social context of the region
where the mission was undertaken.

The Historical Context of Zenana Mission

in Colonial Assam
The American Baptist Mission was one of the earliest Christian
missions to come to northeast India (Sadiya, 1836). In 1841,
the Shan mission, as it was called earlier, was relocated to the
Brahmaputra Valley, whence it came to be known as the Assam
mission, which continued till 1950. During the British colonial
period, the mission established a network of mission stations in
the Brahmaputra Valley (Sibsagar, Nowgong and Gauhati were the
earliest), in the Garo and Naga Hills and in Manipur. The coming
of the Mission into the Brahmaputra Valley and Hills was made
possible by the establishment of the British Rule (since 1826). In
fact, early officials of the East India Company like Francis Jenkins,
the Commissioner of Assam and Robert Bruce, superintendent of
the Experimental Tea Garden in Upper Assam, were responsible
for directing the attention of the American Baptists to Assam
by highlighting the prospect of evangelizing the Shans in Upper
Burma through Sadiya. (Its Burma Mission had a base at Rangoon.)
 Gendered Mission 615

The Brahmaputra Valley, one of the largest riverine plains in

India, had for centuries been the cradle of several ruling dynasties
and exposed to Buddhist, Brahminical and Islamic culture from
neighbouring Bengal and Burma. Hindus and Muslims were
the two dominant religious communities during the period.
The Ahoms, who were a Tai-speaking group, had been the last
ruling monarchy in the Brahmaputra Valley. Beginning from the
seventeenth and eighteenth centuries a large number of Assamese
populations residing in the valley had come under the influence of
Sankaradeva’s teachings with its message of social egalitarianism
and liberation in the region.22
The Mughal scribe Shihabuddin Talish, writing during the
mid-seventeenth century, had observed that, in general, women
in Assam moved about freely in the market places with heads
uncovered and even the wives of the Rajas never veiled their faces
before anybody.23 Owing to the nature of its historical develop­
ment, Assamese society in the valley was comparatively less rigid
in its caste beliefs and practices. During the first half of the nine­
teenth century, John M’Cosh a British official had observed that
‘the Hindus and Muslims were not very rigidly observant of high
caste principles; and greater latitude and toleration exists among
them, than is observed in other parts of India’.24
Among the Assamese Hindus the practice of female infanti­
cide and sati was not prevalent. The social norms against widow
remarriage were only prevalent amongst the high castes. However,
early marriages were common and polygamy prevailed widely.
Contact with neighbouring Bengali culture brought in certain
practices like the purdah in the form of oroni or veil. Remarried
widows came to be called with derogatory names like dhemani,
batalu, etc.25 The position of women may have been less circum­
scribed by caste rigidity in Assam, yet patriarchal norms alongside
socio-religious beliefs and practices had led in general to women’s
social subservience and subordination.
One of the areas specially designated for Zenana work by
women missionaries related to female education. As noted, by
William Robinson, the inspector of schools during the first half of
the nineteenth century,
616 Tejimala Gurung

Females are not included within the pale of education; every ray of
mental improvement is carefully kept from the sex. As they are always
confined to domestic duties, and excluded from the society of the other
sex, the people see no necessity for their education.… To this there are a
few exceptions. In the higher ranks of life, and among families of some
importance the females are frequently taught to read and write.26

Assam, in general, was backward in education, which was

confined to the male sex. A few Assamese intellectuals, like Anan­
daram Dhekial Phukan, Gunabhiram Barua and Hemchandra
Barua, influenced by the development in Bengal, had sought to
bring about a change in social outlook towards female eman­
cipation. Gunabhiram Barua attempted to popularize widow
remarriage and to promote female education. He also wrote a
series of articles in the Arunodoi, the American Baptist Mission
magazine. But their influence was of a very limited nature.

Zenana Work in the Assam Field

With the start of Zenana mission, single female missionaries began
to arrive in Assam.27 In the Assam mission field, there was now
a separate Woman’s Department with single female missionaries
in charge with the General Department under male missionaries.
The Zenana work was, however, not confined only to women kept
in seclusion but among all classes and castes. The rationale behind
Woman’s Work, as stated by Miss Orrell Keeler (1885-7) the female
missionary based at Nowgong, was:
In all of these false systems of religion, although there may be some good
precepts with the false, there is nothing which can elevate woman from
the depths of sin and ignorance. Christianity alone has the vital power
and so we go about preaching Christ and him crucified, to imprisoned
inmates of the zenana, and to those whose liberty is not restricted by
rigid laws of the ‘purdah system’.28

In the beginning, the female missionaries, as Keeler mentions,

could gain access to many of the higher caste women only by teach­
ing some needlework. Although by the late 1880s such instructions
were not given, they were usually made welcome and could get a
 Gendered Mission 617

hearing. The most opposition to their religious preaching gener­

ally came from the high caste Hindus, Brahmos, (followers of the
Brahmo Samaj) and the Mohammedans.29 During Zenana visits,
the missionaries also rendered medical help. As Keeler noted ‘the
little knowledge of medicine I have has been of great value in gain­
ing access to their homes and hearts’.30 The missionaries took the
help of native Christians called Bible Women to visit the homes
of both high and low castes. Regular home visits were made by
the Bible Women and women missionaries, whose numbers were
small at the beginning, accompanied them ‘when weather and
time permit’.31 However, the ‘mental and spiritual qualifications’ of
the Bible Women, as noted by the women missionaries, left much
to be desired and were seen to limit their efficiency. Efforts were
made by missionaries to impart learning and improve their skills
especially through regular Bible classes. But the need for a large
number of trained Christian workers for Zenana and school work
remained and was keenly felt by women missionaries.
Reporting on the woman’s work during this period, Rev. P.H.
Moore, the missionary stationed at Nowgong, had stated:
The policy of the lady missionaries has been to devote the bulk of time
and strength to direct evangelistic work among the women and children
to whom they have access—to go with Bible Women, or alone, and tell
the ‘Old, old Story from house to house’. But considerations of health
together with newness of the language and people have largely hindered
in the carrying out of this line of work. Study of the language together
with the care of the Girls’ School, has actually been the chief item of work
in the Woman’s Department.32

Till the closing decade of the nineteenth century there were

only a limited number of female missionaries in the Assam field.
In 1900 out of a total of 51 American Baptist missionaries working
in Assam, the single women missionaries numbered only seven,
with missionary wives numbering 22.33 These seven female mis­
sionaries were stationed at only three mission stations—Nowgong
(Miss Lolie Daniels and Miss Anna Long), Gauhati (Miss Henri­
etta Morgan, Isabella Wilson, and Gertrude L. Wherett) and Tura
(Miss Ella C. Bond and Stella H. Bond). In 1924, out of a total
618 Tejimala Gurung

of 88 missionaries (which included missionaries’ wives), the total

number of single women missionaries listed was 22. By the third
decade of the century the number of female missionaries including
missionaries’ wives outnumbered male missionaries. In 1944, out
of a total of 52 missionaries (including missionaries’ wives) single
female missionaries numbered 20 with 16 male missionaries.34 All
together, as pointed out by Frederick Downs, 187 American Bap­
tist women served as missionaries in north-east India, of whom
111 were married and 76 unmarried.35
Missionaries’ wives, who were not part of the ordained minis­
try, but considered as ‘assistant missionaries’, were also associated
in the Zenana work. Their unpaid labour and contribution to the
evangelical project has remained invisible in written histories. As
missionary sources indicate, from the very beginning, wives of
missionaries, too, had taken every opportunity to meet and talk
to the native women. One such figure was Jessie T. Moore, wife
of missionary Pitt Holland Moore. Jessie Moore kept a record of
her long stay in Assam (1879-1916), which was intended to inter­
est home friends in missions, and to provide some idea of their
life and work in Assam.36 Her accounts provide important details
of the early Zenana endeavour in the Assam field and the native
responses to it. In her journal, dated 4 March 1880, Jessie Moore
informs:
I went with Miss Keeler today in her Zenana work. As the houses we
wanted to visit were some distance off, we drove. I could join in the sing­
ing with Miss Keeler and Bogi the Bible Reader. Bogi goes into the yard
first, and finds out whether it will be convenient for the women of the
house to see us. We took with us some large Bible pictures to explain to
the women. Bogi read a portion of the scriptures. We were allowed to sit
in a front room where the Babu (native gentlemen) usually receives his
guests. When the mother-in-law came in, the younger women all stood
until she was seated. This mother-in-law is a strong Hindu and she told
Miss Keeler that our religion is best for us, and their religion is best for
them.37
She noted that very often the men were strongly opposed to
Christianity. The gossains or priests also objected to the missionary
preaching. She mentions that the low caste women were not shut
up in the Zenana, and they moved about freely.
 Gendered Mission 619

In her journal entry dated 1 November 1884, Jessie Moore

writes:
I went with Aina (a Bible woman) to visit a Hindu widow. She showed
some interest as we told her of the only way of Salvation, and that we
must all give an account before God. She said her parents and grandpar­
ents were Hindus, and therefore she was a Hindu, and if she were sincere
in that religion it would be all right with her. When we gave her some of
the proofs that the Christian Scriptures are true and that they contain
only that which is good, she replied, ‘our scriptures are also good’. Oh! if
she could only believe there is Salvation in Jesus only.38

Female missionaries also went out to the suburbs and neighbouring

villages for Zenana work. Jessie Moore often accompanied the
female missionaries. In her journal, dated 16 January 1882, she
mentions about the visit with Keeler to Batiram a Mikir village,
for opening a girls’ school.39 In November, she went out with Anna
K. Brandt for a month to adjoining villages along with two native
preachers—Hendura and Punaram and a Bible woman Tora, wife
of Punaram. They visited the mission school at Salabor, a Mikir
village where there were 15 pupils of whom five were girls. She
noted that Habi, the wife of the native preacher, had learned to
read and sew from the girls’ school at Nowgong. This she remarked
was an almost unheard of accomplishment among Mikir women.40
Further, in another entry dated 8 December 1885, Jessie
Moore mentions,
Miss Keeler, Miss Purssell and I are out in camp for one week. We have
with us Tuni as preacher, and Bogi and Boghuli as Bible women. We go
out every morning and afternoon to talk to the people of Jesus and his
love. Some of the women say “we are cows, what do we know”. Others say,
“By thinking of God and repeating his name we shall be saved”.41
(This statement has a reference to Sankaradeva’s preaching’s which
emphasized on namakirtan or singing the praise of God to attain salva­
tion.)

Such visits continued to be a feature of the Zenana work.

Another entry in her journal dated 8 November 1895, reads:
Mrs Carvell (Laura M. Amy) and I have just spent a week at Puroni
Gudam (which was seven miles from the Mission station).… We lived in
the Government rest-house. We took with us stretchers, bedding, dishes,
620 Tejimala Gurung

food and cooking utensils. Mrs Carvell’s cook and his wife (Ahini) went
with us. Ahini went about with us to visit native houses, to tell the women
and children of our Savior’s love and power to save. We carried with us
the large Bible pictures which always interest them. The picture of the
Crucifixion makes Christ suffering more real to them. It is hard for them
to understand that Christ suffered for them, and on account of their
sins.42

During this visit, a woman stated her desire to be a Christian,

but she wanted to leave her husband as she did not get on well
with him. Jessie Moore noted: ‘Of course we could not advise her
to leave her husband. We told her to win her husband by good
conduct.’43
Jessie Moore also looked after the girls’ boarding school
whenever the female missionary was away. During Keeler’s long
furlough (1883-5) she took charge of the Woman’s Department
teaching daily in the girl’s school and going out with the Bible
Women for Zenana visits as often as she could. Most of the girls in
the school were orphans from poor families.44
As noted by Rev. P.H. Moore in 1900, the main features of the
Woman’s Department continued to be (1) the superintendence of
the station school, including the Girls’ Boarding Department; (2)
the supervision of the Bible Woman’s Work; and (3) personal visits
and teaching the women and children of the station and vicinity in
their homes, or as they were met in the streets.45
In 1915 at the thirteenth session held at Golaghat, the Women’s
Council of the Assam Baptist Mission was constituted for advi­
sory supervision of the Woman’s Department and to enlarge and
strengthen the work in the stations, which had increased to 12.
Relating about the Zenana visits in Gauhati town, Mrs E.
Lindeman, associate of Miss Isabella Wilson in the mission work
noted that in nearly every house the women understood Bengali.
Bengali Gospels, hymn books and other publications, such as
Daughters of Light, Pandita Ramabai, was readily bought and so
she always carried a good supply of literature for sale and variety
of tracts for distribution.46 She wrote:
Hearts are often touched as they listen to the story of our Saviour’s life.…
As we leave them they invite us to return soon, saying, “We like to hear
 Gendered Mission 621

those beautiful words and hymns.” All are fond of our singing, and some­
times we wonder why they do not accept Jesus as their Savior; yet to some
of these women the religion of their forefathers is very dear to them.…
An intelligent woman who had listened attentively to the gospel several
times said one day, “Yes, it is beautiful and good, but I cannot forsake my
own, and the religion of all my people”.47
To the missionaries going on Zenana visits, the Hindu and
Muslim women were all sinners needing salvation through belief
in a personal saviour. For the missionaries, ‘Jesus had died to
redeem them, and until they all hear that message, we cannot
withhold the Light of Life from them.’48
In 1910, Isabella Wilson in charge of the Gauhati Girls’ School
noted the growing interest in the education of girls amongst the
people. Despite the fear of their children becoming Christians,
parents brought their little ones to the school. But as she also
observed, they often withdrew the older ones from the school to
send them to the Girls’ Bengali School in Gauhati.49
The earliest justification used by the American Baptist mis­
sionaries for educating girls was that the native men who were
being trained for leadership in the church might have Christian
wives to be a spiritual companion. As the missionary (Rev. Thomas
J. Keith) working in the Garo Hills in his argument for the estab­
lishment of a school for girls among the Garos, pointed out:
The missionary’s wife wants a school in which she may do something for
the women and girls. It is much needed. For we have now 25 young men
in the Normal School learning the sciences, of the books, and of soap and
water also. Where shall these go for their future companions in life? To
their heathen country women? How can they? We must think of these
things.50
Such a state of things it was stated would be disastrous to the
progress of ‘the kingdom of Christ’. The newly established churches
would not be strong unless the women were also literate.

Early Beginnings
The earliest statistical Report of Assam for the year 1872-3 gives the
number of girls’ school for the Brahmaputra Valley at seven and
622 Tejimala Gurung

the number of girl students at 115.51 Progress of female education

during the nineteenth century, both through governmental and
non-governmental agencies, continued to be very slow.52 As
evident from the 1901 census data,53 even by the beginning of
the twentieth century, the general state of education in Assam
continued to be very backward. A majority of the pupils under
instruction were only in primary classes. In Assam as a whole
female literacy was 0.4 per cent.54 Of the female population in
schoolgoing age, less than one per cent was in the primary stage of
instruction. In Garo Hills district, 1.5 per cent (males) and 0.2 per
cent (females) were returned as literate. In Naga Hills district 1.3
per cent of the population was literate of which female literacy was
only 0.5 per cent. On the progress of female education, W.A. Booth,
director of public instruction, had stated that the largest number
of girls who received instructions attended primary schools only,
a few were reading in upper primary schools, a smaller number in
middle schools and none in high schools.55
The American Baptist Mission had, from the beginning of its
mission work, emphasized on primary schooling as essential tools
for teaching the Bible and basics of the Christian faith. Wives of the
pioneer missionaries, i.e. Eliza W. Brown and Harriet Low Cutter
in Sibsagar, Jane W. Barker in Gauhati and Ruth Montaque Bron­
son in Nowgong, would go to the bazaar to persuade the girls of
the lower caste and class to come to the mission bungalows where
they were taught to read and write. As early as 1850, a good brick
building for a girls’ school had been constructed at Gauhati this
time almost entirely by the contribution of European residents in
Gauhati.56 The two missionaries’ wives, Frances Studley Danforth
and Cordelia Ward, had given personal attention to this work. But
the school here never advanced beyond promising beginnings.57
With the emphasis on Zenana mission, schools were meant not
only to strengthen the church but also to serve as an instrument
of progress—mental and moral—for effecting change within the
domestic arena. In 1885, Mrs Burdette took the initiative to start a
new school at Gauhati for girls with some few Garo girls brought
by her from Tura, reinforced by some Garo girls of Kamrup district
and few Assamese girls from the town. As per the 1901 Census, the
 Gendered Mission 623

female literacy rate in Kamrup district was 0.2 per cent (males 6.8
per cent). The number of girls studying in the district was 431 and
most of those studying were in primary classes.58
Work among girls in Nowgong was started in 1870 when
Maria Bronson, daughter of Miles Bronson, ‘collected’ a num­
ber of girls from the bazaar into a day school. After her death in
1874, Mrs Neighbor, the missionary wife of R.E. Neighbor, with
the help of native assistants kept up the Girls’ School till 1875. In
1875, Anna K. Sweet, a single female missionary, was sent by the
Woman’s Society of the West to take up Zenana work and the Girls’
School in Nowgong. When she left, due to her marriage, Miss
Orrell Keeler was sent from Gauhati and put up in sole charge
of the Woman’s Department consisting of the Zenana work and
the Girls’ School. In 1880, there were only 20 girls in the school.
Annual examinations were held for the schoolgirls along with
those from the Bengali Girls’ School. The girls were examined
in reading, writing dictation and arithmetic. In November 1881,
Anna K. Brandt arrived at Nowgong to assist Keeler in the Zenana
work but soon left in January 1883 for marriage.59 In 1883 only
two girls from Nowgong district (in contrast to 250 boys) sat for
the Lower Primary Government Examination and one of these
girls, Horu, was from the mission school. In 1885, Nettie Pursell
came to assist Keeler in the Woman’s Work. It was a big achieve­
ment for the women missionaries when in 1886 one girl named
Sophie passed the Upper Primary Government Examination. In
April 1887, Orrell Keeler left the Nowgong field for Tura to marry
Rev. M.C. Mason (where she died shortly afterwards). In her place,
Charlotte E. Pursell arrived at Nowgong to join her sister mission­
ary (6 December 1887). Her work involved assisting eight hours
daily in the school as well as overseeing the girls in the boarding
school and the Bible women in their work. After Nettie Pursell
married Rev. M.C. Mason in February 1889, Laura A. Amy arrived
in December 1890 as the new female missionary to assist Charlotte
Pursell in the woman’s work at Nowgong. In 1898 and 1899 the
Nowgong Station School was reported to have 32 girls on the roll.
A total of two girls passed the Upper Primary and three girls the
Lower Primary Government Examination in these two years.60
624 Tejimala Gurung

In 1903-4, the number of female scholars was 110 in Nowgong

district and no girls had advanced beyond the primary classes.61
The literacy rate for the district as per 1901 census was 2.8 per cent
(males 5.4; females 0.1 per cent).
By 1910, there were 80 girls in the Nowgong Girl’s school,
which included 50 boarders. A total of 10 female missionaries
had worked since 1880 and the school now had a kindergarten,
and lower primary, upper primary and middle vernacular depart­
ments.62 In December 1912, Miss Edith E. Crisenberg arrived at
Nowgong for kindergarten work in the school. In 1912 the Assam
government gave a grant of Rs. 15,000 for a good school building
for the girls’ school and with contribution of Rs. 7,500 from the
Woman’s Baptist Foreign Mission Society of the West; by 1913 a
steel framed structure, containing nine rooms was in the process
of construction.63 The new school building was opened in January
1914. In 1915 a normal training department was also introduced
at the girls’ school at Nowgong.
As borne out from missionary reports, the early girls’ school
attracted only the poorest, low caste children. Jessie Moore had
noted in 1880 the parents did not think it necessary for girls to
know how to read and write. Like the wives of the early pioneer
missionaries, the female missionaries would go to the bazaar
and persuade the girls from the lower class and castes to come
for study. In the Nowgong station school, classes at the beginning
were held in the morning for two hours from 7-9 a.m. In addition
to reading, writing, arithmetic, grammar and geography, the girls
were taught plain sewing, weaving, spinning and native house­
keeping.64 But owing to the practice of early marriage in the plains
the girls were very often taken out of the school between the ages
of nine to twelve. Two of the problems faced by schools in Assam
were thus the irregular attendance of the girls and the early age
in which they were withdrawn from the school. The missionaries
felt that whatever they had achieved was largely lost. Subsequently,
the boarding school system was adopted as being most suitable to
provide consistent ‘Christian influence’ and native leadership in
the future.
 Gendered Mission 625

In 1876, the idea of a boarding school for girls was conceived by

Anna Sweet, when she was given an orphan girl from a tea garden.
With the increase in the number of such orphan girls, a dormitory
was built by 1886 near the mission bungalow and a native Christian
widow served as matron. The Girls’ Boarding School was estab­
lished on the lines of the original Nowgong Orphan Institution, set
up in 1843 by Miles Bronson for both sexes of any caste. Through it
Bronson had sought, as he wrote to ‘introduce the education of the
female sex, which is wholly neglected in this country’.65 Mrs Bron­
son taught in the girls department of the school till 1848, followed
by Mrs Drusilla Stoddard and Miss Shaw. In 1850 Eliza Brown had
also started a boarding school for girls in Sibsagar and before her
by Mrs Barker at Gauhati.66 The main justification for these board­
ing schools was evangelistic. However, in 1856, the experiment in
Boarding school had been closed down due to financial constraint
and discouragement by the home board, which emphasized itiner­
ant preaching.67 From 1875 to 1885, 17 girls were inmates of the
Nowgong Boarding School. Two of these girls were reported by
Keeler to have passed the Government Lower Primary Education;
and one girl, after passing the Upper Primary Examination, had
been sent to Calcutta to the Bethune School to study English with
a view to take a medical course of study under the Lady Dufferin
Fund.68
Sustained Zenana work amongst women in Assam thus began
with girls’ schools and boarding schools.69 Girls’ schools were run
by the Women’s Society at Tura, Nowgong and Golaghat. There
were smaller station schools at other centres and village schools
in the interior run by the Baptist Mission. The Nowgong Middle
School, Golaghat High School, Gauhati Middle School and Tura
Middle English School (in Garo Hills) emerged to be the premier
mission schools for female education during the period. In the
Naga Hills district, the station school at Impur upgraded to the
Middle English level, was the only highest level mission run insti­
tution. In 1914, there were eight girls in the school at Impur, by
1921 there were 25 and by 1936 there were 76 girls in the Girls
school (1917). They included Aos, Semas and Konyak.70 Miss Ethel
626 Tejimala Gurung

May Stevenson, appointed by the WABFMS, was sent to Impur

for female education. In 1921, the Golaghat school was recognized
by the government as a middle English school and in 1938 it was
given recognition as a fully accredited high school by Calcutta Uni­
versity. The statistical data, as gleaned from the mission reports,
provide a fair idea of the number of girls studying in the various
mission schools, including their religious affiliation. In 1943, the
Golaghat Girls High School had 225 students. Miss Marion J. Tait
and Miss Evans were then the two female missionaries serving in
the school. Out of 228 girls enrolled in 1945, 130 were Christian,
87 were Hindu and 11 Muslim.71 In 1949, the largest number of
enrolments in the history of the school was recorded at 302, of
whom 120 girls were from the rural areas and 58 from ex-tea gar­
den labour classes.72
From the 1870s onwards, the emphasis of the American
Baptist Mission shifted to the hills and by the beginning of the
twentieth century, four-fifth of its resources were being spent in
the hills.73 This was due to the success of conversion amongst the
Garo hill tribes. Not surprising, from 1879 onwards, the Women’s
American Baptist Foreign Mission Society (WABFMS) began to
support missionary activity to the Garo Hills mainly for educa­
tional and medical work. In Garo Hills primary education was left
largely in the hands of the Baptist Mission by the government. In
1879, the society sent Miriam Russell to Tura, designated specially
for female education in the Garo Hills.74 She started a girls’ board­
ing school in February 1882 with around 10 orphan girls.75 After
her marriage to Rev. Burdette in October 1885, she was transferred
to Gauhati to help her husband. The school was closed but she
took with her five Garo girls to continue their studies in Gauhati.
In 1886, Miss Ella Cecilia Bond and Miss Stella Mason brought 15
girls from Nishangram village to Tura and re-opened the boarding
school. In 1920, the station school (co-ed) at Tura became a Girls
Middle English School. The table given below gives the names of
missionaries’ wives and women missionaries sent by the Home
Board and WABFMS to work for the Garo women during the
period.76
 Gendered Mission 627

Name of Missionary Period

Mrs Pollie Keith 1874-5
Miss Miriam Russell later Mrs Burdette 1874-5
Miss Ella Cecilia Bond 1886-1923
Miss Stella H. Mason 1886-1901
Mrs Ella Phillips 1877-1914
Mrs Neattie Mason 1889-1934
Miss Alice J. Rood 1894-9
Miss Henrietta Morgan 1898-9
Miss Isabelle Wilson 1898-9
Mrs Walter Mason 1902-16
Miss Linnie Holbrook 1906-39
Mrs. Nellie Harding 1907-44
Miss Charlotte A. Wright 1919-34
Miss Hazel L. Wetherbee 1926-9
Mrs. Ida Merrill 1929-56
Miss Fern Marie Rold 1930-62
Miss Ruth Teasdale 1939-40
Mrs. Edna Randall 1945-50
Miss S. Maxville, Miss Mary Parrish & 1943
Miss Helen Tufts
Miss Florence Elsie Wormser 1949-68

In 1915, a Girls Middle English School was set up in the Satri­

bari Compound, Gauhati. Female missionaries such as Isabella
Wilson, Carolyn A. Gleich; Holmes E. Smith; Ethel E. Nichols,
M.G. Burnham, served in the school which also included a board­
ing department. In 1941, there were about 257 girls in the school
including 86 girls in the boarding.77 In 1945, out of 256 students
there were 143 Hindus, 36 Muslims and 76 Christians.78 In 1949,
the day school enrolment was 289 with 145 being Hindus, 89
Christians and 52 Muslims and three others.79 The Sarah E. White
Memorial Hostel, Gauhati, provided boarding for college girls.
The girls came from several hill areas and from the plains. In 1941
there were 33 girls—20 Assamese; two Khasis; three Garos; one
Kachari; one Angami Naga; one Ahom; one Nepali; two Mani­
628 Tejimala Gurung

puris and two others.80 In 1949, there were a total of 61 girls in

the hostel; eight were postgraduate university students, 39 girls
were attending Cotton College and 14 the R.H. Girls’ College.81
The Normal Training School located at Nowgong trained girls for
teacher training. In 1940, three Muslim girls were noted to have
come for teacher training for the first time.82 In the Girls’ Hostel at
Impur, (Naga Hills) there were 83 girls of whom 75 were Ao, five
Lothas and two Sema girls, with three lady teachers and a matron
(nurse) living with the girls.83
The Gale Memorial Bible Training School (Jorhat) funded by
the WABFMS provided instruction in Bible studies to women. The
three-year course included church history, history of the Bible,
Biblical geography, S.S. teacher training, and missions. In addi­
tion the students were also given practical work lessons in home
economics such as first-aid, care of the sick, children, food and
clothing, sewing and weaving. The students mainly belonged to
the Ao-Naga, Angami Naga, Lotha Naga, Garo, Mundari and
Assamese tribal groups.84
Till the end of mission period (1950), Zenana visits to homes
and nearby villages or during weekly market days continued to
be part of the Woman’s Work for Woman. The Bible Women were
tasked with regularly visiting nearby villages which included Hin­
dus, Muslims, high castes, low castes and the poor. Zenana visits,
however, remained largely limited to the urban towns and nearby
villages where mission stations were located.

Maternity and Child Care

With the establishment of Medical Mission as an integral
component of missionary work, female missionaries were sent
for Woman’s work specially related to maternity and child care
in areas neglected under the colonial government in Assam. The
demand for medical missionaries had been a constant feature
made by the missionaries working in the field. From the outset
of mission activity, the missionaries had often helped to treat
small bodily ailments though they were not trained. It did not
take them long to realize that through medicine, heart and soul
 Gendered Mission 629

could be won. In 1908, to help in the Tura Mission Hospital, Nettie

Agnes Robb (1908-13) was sent as a missionary nurse by the
Home Board and, after her, Miss Omie Eleanor Carter (1914-17)
was appointed by the American Women’s Baptist Foreign Mission
Society. Subsequently, Garo girls were sent for midwifery training
at the Eden Hospital, Calcutta and the Berry White Hospital at
Dibrugarh (Upper Assam).85 In 1921, Miss A. Verna Blakely
(1921-41) came as a missionary nurse to Tura. Miss Blakely (who
later served as superintendent of the School of Nursing, Gauhati)
was the first woman missionary to impart to the Garo women the
importance of pre-natal care and care of children. During her tour
of Garo villages, as in Rangsakona and Ronjeng, she held special
classes for women. During one such visit at Ronjeng, Verna Blakely
had picked out the 10 oldest women and asked each one to tell how
many children they had; how many had died, and how many were
living. Out of a total of 76 births, 44 had died in infancy, 32 had
lived. One Garo woman was noted to remark that if they had been
exposed to the new teachings from before, the blackboard would
have told a different story.86 The Garo women, as noted by Blakely,
were interested in learning about their bodies and health care for
themselves and their families. More women were reported to be
coming for maternity/obstetrical cases at Tura Mission Hospital.
The women’s ward at Tura Hospital provided further scope for
evangelistic preaching, and health visiting in the town homes was
also started by the women missionaries.
The table below lists the women medical missionaries sent to
the Mission Hospital, Tura87

1. Miss Nettie Agnes Robb (Nurse) 1908-13

2. Miss Omie Eeanor Carter (Nurse) 1914-17
3. Miss Anne Verna Blakely (Nurse) 1921-41
4. Miss Millie Marvin (Nurse) 1921-41
5. Mrs. Eulius Sheldown Downs (Nurse) 1927-67

Starting from 1920, a major medical programme for women

and children was begun in Lower Assam at Satribari compound
in Gauhati. Owing to the practice of purdah (veil) which was
630 Tejimala Gurung

observed more strictly in Lower Assam than in Upper, the need for
a female hospital catering to women and run by female missionar­
ies had been keenly felt.88 In 1922 the construction for a 45-bed
hospital was begun and completed by 1925. Dr Miss M.J. Gifford
of the Burma Mission was loaned to work (left in May 1941) in the
hospital, which catered to women of all classes, caste and creed.
The Satribari Hospital was the only hospital in colonial Assam
meant for the care of women and children. The hospital undertook
obstetrical cases, operations, X-rays and laboratory examinations,
which is indicated below to provide some idea of the work done.89

Years In- Out- Delivery Opera­ X-Rays Laboratory

Patients Patients Cases tions Examinations
1940 686 2,600 96 157 115 4,000
1941 654 5,000 95 121 N.A. N.A.
1945 1,959 5,969 86 319 222 5,558
1946 1,314 6,630 138 327 220 7,348
1948 1,652 6,908 158 461 492 13,805
1949 1,562 N.A. 182 507 N.A N.A

Dr Alice L. Randall; Dr Grace Seagrave (left in May 1945 for

Burma), Dr Mary E. Kirby and nurses Millie M. Marvin, (left in
May 1941) and Edna M. Stever were the female missionaries who
served in the hospital. Stever was noted to be also doing public
health nursing—everyday two or three groups visited the homes
of patients who had recently left the hospital.90
The American Baptist Zenana mission can also be credited for
developing nursing as a service and profession in Assam. To train
nurses and midwives, a nursing school had been started at the
Satribari Hospital, Gauhati. Initially, those who were trained were
mainly Naga and Garo girls. From 1930 to 1943 the school gradu­
ated 40 nurses. Of these 10 were serving at the Mission Hospital
in Gauhati, four were with the Assam Oil Company at Digboi, 12
were employed at the tea estates, one in a mission school, three
were in government service, one in the army, one at the Jorhat
Mission Hospital, two at Tura Mission Hospital, two had died, one
was nursing in her village and nine were without nursing positions
 Gendered Mission 631

having got married.91 In 1932, Ms Elna Gustilie Forssel, a trained

missionary nurse, was sent by the American Baptist Women’s Soci­
ety for work at the Jorhat Christian Hospital. In 1945, the Nurses
Training School, Jorhat, had 24 nurses in training and eight on the
graduate staff. Out of the trainees, 15 were Nagas, from the plains,
there were 12, aside from one Nepali, one Mikir, one Garo and one
Kachari person.92 The following year, four nurses graduated, while
five students were admitted for a total of 25.93
The girls’ schools, boarding schools, hostels, hospitals, nursing
schools, orphanages (Reeder Memorial Home, Satribari) and the
Gale Memorial Bible Training School (for Bible studies at Jorhat)
were thus the agencies and institutions through which the Zenana
work of the American Baptist Mission supported by the WABFMS
was undertaken in Assam.

Epilogue
Woman’s Work for Woman was intended primarily for evangelical
purposes and to build a strong church among the native people.
The Christian church could not be strong unless founded upon
an ‘enlightened’ womanhood. School life was not only to train the
girls in matters of the mind but also in spirit. It was to provide an
opportunity to practise Christian living and to build up a Christian
character. As Eastern ideas of propriety did not allow men the
freedom to have access to the women the ‘teaching, training and
shepherding of the female portion of the flock’ (had to be done
by the women missionary) else ‘the work is either left undone, or
is very imperfectly accomplished, and the whole church suffers.’94
Education provided through the primary village schools and
early station schools were intended to enable the converts to read
the scriptures and serve as an evangelical agency.
Though the purpose of mission schools—the earliest non­
governmental agency in Assam which sought to provide learning
to native girls—was evangelical, it was mainly through the persis­
tent intervention of the women missionaries that girls were sent to
school and education of native girls could make progress. In fact,
the Baptist missionaries were the pioneers of female education in
632 Tejimala Gurung

colonial Assam. From a very early period during which missionar­

ies went to villages urging the parents to send their girls to school;
there was afterwards no room for all who wanted to be admitted in
mission schools.95 By the 1930s it was being observed that conser­
vatism, tradition and prejudice relating to female education were
losing ground.96 The missionaries in great measure did contribute
to breaking down societal resistance to girls’ education. Through
its village and mission schools, an increasing number of girls got
the opportunity to learn, with some completing their graduation,
earning Bachelor of Arts and even Master of Arts degrees. Many
of those graduating became teachers in the mission schools. To
mention a few of them, Dobaka W. Momin, neice of Ramkhe, the
first Garo convert, served as a teacher in the girls’ school at Tura, in
1902 became matron of the Girls Boarding Department, and rose
to become the principal of the Mission Girls School at Tura. Miss
Henadini D. Shira, the first Garo woman graduate (BA) taught at
Satribari School.97 Rosalind Sokhrienuo, the first Naga graduate,
was appointed as a high school teacher at Kohima by the govern­
ment with a monthly starting pay of Rs. 75.98 Miss Anandi Kenowar
(MA, BT) and Miss Puspa Bhuyan taught in the Nowgong Girls’
Training School.99 The Normal Training School (government
aided) located at Nowgong, which imparted teacher training to
girls, was the only one in the Brahmaputra Valley. In 1940, three
Muslim girls were noted to have come for teacher training for the
first time.100 Reboti, a Garo nurse, served at Tura Mission Hospi­
tal, Leah Momin in the Satribari Mission Hospital and Nodil M.
Marak, another Garo, served as assistant to Miss Blakely in the
Nurses Training School at Gauhati. In 1945, there were 35 students
enrolled in the training school. About Nodil Marak, Blakely had to
say, ‘without her help I could not have kept up class works as well
as we have done, to say nothing of many other things which would
have gone undone but for her faithfulness’.101
The Sarah E. White Memorial Hostel, Gauhati, provided
boarding facility for college girls who came from several hill areas
and from the plains. In 1941, there were 33 girls—20 Assamese; two
Khasis; three Garos; one Kachari; one Angami Naga; one Ahom;
one Nepali; two Manipuris and two others.102 In 1949, there were
 Gendered Mission 633

a total of 61 girls in the hostel out of whom eight were pursuing

post-graduation, 39 were attending Cotton College (co-ed) and 14
at the R. Handique Girls’ College (set up in 1939).103
In its educational work, the mission received financial help
from the colonial government by way of grants-in-aid given to
schools. The Woman’s Society Funds of the Assam mission sup­
ported the higher education of girls in the Assam schools, and
outside as in the Lucknow Medical Training School, Ludhiana
Medical College, Calcutta High School and Silchar Training
School.104 Some of them, like Daisy Andrew who completed her
teacher training at Isabelle Thoburn College, Lucknow (in May
1925), and Anondi Kenowar (BA) assisted as teachers at Nowgong
Training School. After completing their sub-assistant surgeon’s
course, Lahori Bhuyan and Alice Marak (from Ludhiana Medical
College) helped out, respectively, at Gauhati Hospital and in the
medical line at Nowgong Training School. With funds dwindling
in the later years, in 1928 the educational committee of the mission
in Assam voted to recommend the establishment of a scholarship
fund of Rs. 2,500 for girls studying in the various mission schools
and in some non-mission schools.105
As modern Christian missions coincided with the extension of
western European economic and political hegemony, a moot ques­
tion often debated is whether the women’s missionary movement
was actually ‘cultural imperialism’. Questions of gendered division
of labour, appropriate gender roles, sexuality and marriage, of
parenthood, childrearing, hygiene, etc., were major components
of the Zenana work. While missionaries in general have often been
portrayed in the dominant role as an agency exercising power and
the natives as passive recipients, it is also evident that cultural
messages are often mediated and transformed by the needs and
intentions of the recipients. It is argued that hence ‘cultural trans­
fer’ (a less pejorative term) is rarely a unilateral relationship in
which all power rests with the transmitting culture—in this case
the missionaries.106 However, by virtue of being the ‘white race’
and associated with colonial power, this relationship was one of
unequal power and dominance between the missionaries and the
native convert. Missionaries were an inseparable element of new
634 Tejimala Gurung

colonialism and spread of empire that was carried out through

various means including the religious. As part of their mission­
ary project, which involved a dual process of ‘Christianization and
civilization’, the missionaries did impose their religious ideas and
social values that went with it on the natives.
What then were the social and cultural roles the women mis­
sionaries believed were appropriate for women? Their writings
and actions reveal ambivalence about gender roles. On the one
hand they accepted the mid nineteenth century ideals of virtuous
womanhood and domesticity where the converted and mission
school educated women would provide a clean and loving Chris­
tian home as wives and mothers, exerting a moral influence. At
the same time, they also visualized a new woman with education
and skills that made her capable of playing newer roles in the
society. However, the patriarchal mission certainly did not want
the native women (even its women missionaries) to step beyond
the bounded gender roles and relations as envisaged by it. Hence,
in addition to learning, knowledge of home science, sewing and
knitting for women and girls were given. Even for the elite and
middle-class Assamese society, while the support for female edu­
cation existed, for many the purpose was not to empower women
to take up public roles. The end purpose was to make them good
mothers, suitable wives for the newly educated men and not to be
man’s rivals in the public sphere.
Being an integral part of the modern missionary movement,
the American Baptists believed in their God-given mission to
Christianize and its emancipatory power to ‘civilize’ the rest of the
world. With the Zenana mission, Christianity in particular was
characterized as the ‘liberator’ of women and mission fields were
intended to ‘ennoble’ and ‘uplift’ the ‘degraded’ lives of women
in the East. The missionaries believed that with the adoption of
Christianity the converts would acquire the proper cultural attri­
butes, which would strengthen the Church and in the process
also contribute to the civilizing mission of the native woman. For
the missionaries, their mission was God-given and a righteous
one. They therefore, had no hesitation in trying to impose their
 Gendered Mission 635

religious beliefs and values on their converts and students to

achieve their evangelical end.
For the converts, being a Baptist Christian meant effecting
changes with regard to sexuality and marriage (monogamy), par­
enthood, domestic spaces, household and personal cleanliness,
clothing habits, etc.; and disassociating from a whole gamut of
their sociocultural traditions and practices. Indigenous social fes­
tivals, dances, songs, musical instruments, brewing, drinking, free
intermixing (in case of hill tribes), etc., were severely proscribed
and prohibited.107 It thus involved a total lifestyle change. The
mission, thereby, acted as agents of cultural imperialism in their
role to Christianize and thereby to ‘civilize’ the native people by
bestowing the benefits of a more advanced society and culture.
The model on which the missionaries wanted to pattern the lives
of the women were shaped by the late nineteenth-century Ameri­
can values associated with being evangelical Protestants, Baptists,
and middle class. The schools and hospitals served as the agen­
cies through which the Zenana mission sought to bring to the
‘prospective’ converts the benefits of new learning and skills, a
Christian education to develop Christian moral virtues, character.
In the process they formulated new gender roles as ‘good’ Chris­
tian wives, mothers within the personal domain and in the public
sphere as Bible women, teachers, nurses, doctors, administrators
of schools, etc., during the period.
The role of missionary women, as wives and single women in
the missionary enterprise of the period, were circumscribed by the
gendered notion of male and female sphere of activities. While not
critiquing patriarchy or espousing gender equality, women mis­
sionaries did challenge native social norms in seeking to achieve
their goal of female emancipation. While a comparatively smaller
number of women missionaries were engaged in medical work, the
greater number of them was involved in female educational work.
It was in the area of female education, in which women missionar­
ies were able to establish a relatively autonomous sphere of work.
Despite the stated importance of Zenana mission, the number of
female missionaries appointed for Zenana work was small and
636 Tejimala Gurung

based only in a few mission stations till the early decades of the
twentieth century. In the Zenana work the female missionaries had
to be supported by the missionaries’ wives whose ‘unpaid labour’
and contribution to the Woman’s Work has been immense. When
single women missionaries were not present or on furlough, the
Woman’s Work was carried out by the missionaries’ wives. Mention
must also be made of the role played by the native women whose
contribution as teachers, doctors; nurses, etc., in the Zenana work
remain invisible in the evangelical project. In terms of religious
conversion the Zenana mission did not witness massive success as
envisaged by its proponents. It was only in the hills that Christian­
ity found acceptance amongst the Garos and Nagas. Conversion in
the Brahmaputra Valley was limited to the plain tribes and immi­
grant tea labour. The majority of the Assamese Hindu and Muslim,
including the Bengali speakers, remained immune to Christianity.
Hence, we notice the tendency to look upon the Assam mission
of the American Baptist Mission in the Brahmaputra Valley as a
failure in mission history and by mainstream church historians.
Despite the ‘apparent failure’ of the mission to convert, the fruits
of Zenana activity in terms of female empowerment were subse­
quently reaped by the native society both in the plains and the
hills of Assam. The network of institutions the Woman’s Work for
Woman created provided new opportunity, support and paved the
way for women to take up skilled employment in the fields that
were emerging in the new colonial set-up and period.

Notes
1. See F. Bowie, D. Kirkwood, and S. Ardener (eds.), Women and
Missions: Past and Present: Anthropology and Historical Perception,
Berg Publications, Oxford, 1993; Phillipa Levine, Gender and
Empire, Oxford, 2004; Dana Robert, American Women in Mission: A
Social History of their Thought and Practice, Mercer University Press,
Macon, G.A, 1996; R. Pierce Beaver, American Protestant Women
in World Missions: History of the First Feminist Movement in North
America, second edition, W.B. Eerdsmans, Grand Rapids, Michigan,
1986; Anna Johnston, Missionary Writing and Empire, 1800-1860,
Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 2003; Jane Hunter, Gospel
 Gendered Mission 637

of Gentility: American Women Missionaries in Turn-of-the-Century

China, Yale University Press, 1984; Ruth Tucker, Guardians of
the Great Commission: The Story of Women in Modern Missions,
Academia Books, 1988; Leslie A. Flemming (ed.), Women’s Work for
Women: Missionaries and Social Change in Asia, Westview, Colorado,
1989; Eliza F. Kent, Converting Women: Gender and Protestant
Christianity in Colonial South India, Oxford University Press,
Oxford, 2004; William R. Hutchison, Errand to the World: American
Protestant Thought and Foreign Mission, Chicago University Press,
Chicago, 1987; Arthur Schlesinger, ‘The Missionary Enterprise
and the Theories of Imperialism’ in: John K. Fairbank (ed.), The
Missionary Enterprise in China and America, Harvard University
Press, 1988; Kenneth M. Mackenzie, The Robe and the Sword: The
Methodist Church and the Rise of American Imperialism, Washington
D.C., 1961; Jean and John Comaroff, Of Revelation and Resolution
Vols. One & Two, Chicago University Press, Chicago, 1991 and 1997.
2. Stephen Neill, A History of Christianity in India, Cambridge
University Press, Cambridge, 1984; Jeffrey Cox, The British Missionary
Enterprise since 1700, New York: Routledge, 2008; Amanda Barry,
Joanna Cruickshank, Andrew Brown-May, and Patricia Grimshaw,
(eds.), Evangelists of Empire? Missionaries in Colonial History,
Custom Book Centre, University of Melbourne, 2010; Georgina
Anne Gollock, Missionaries at Work, Church Missionary Society,
London, 1898; L.A. Flemming (ed.), Women Missionaries and Social
Change in Asia, West View Press, Colorado, 1989.
3. Zenana, a Persian term from ‘Zan’ or women, referred to a segregated
living area for the exclusive use of women and women visitors and to
which men were denied entry during the working hours of the day.
Within it the women were engaged in domestic work and household
activities. The zenana was basically a Muslim social institution,
and influenced by the Muslims, high caste Hindu families had also
adopted the practice of keeping women in seclusion.
4. Norman Etherington (ed.), Missions and Empire, Oxford University
Press, 2005, p. 9.
5. Frederick S. Downs, The Christian Impact on the Status of Women
In North East India, NEHU, Shillong 1996; Tejimala Gurung, ‘The
Invisible Inscription: Women Missionary and Education of Women,
1886-1905, T.B. Subba, et al. (eds.), Christianity and Change in
Northeast India, Concept Publishing Company, New Delhi, 2009, pp.
307-20; Suryasikha Pathak, ‘Home Away from Home, Missionary
638 Tejimala Gurung

Wives in the Evangelical Project in Colonial Assam: Life and Times

of Mrs. P.H. Moore’, in T.B. Subba, et al. (eds.), Christianity and
Change in Northeast India, Concept Publishing Company, New
Delhi, 2009, pp. 347-57; Sengchi Diamai, Mission and Gender: The
American Baptist Mission in Garo Hills (1867-1950), PhD Thesis,
Department of History, NEHU, Shillong, 2020.
6. Geraldine Forbes, ‘In Search of the Pure Heathen: Missionary
Women in Nineteenth Century India,’ Economic and Political Weekly,
vol. 21, no. 17, Special Issue on Women Studies, 26 April 1986,
W.S.-2.
7. Joan Jacobs Brumberg, ‘Zenanas and Girlless Villages: The
Ethnology of American Evangelical Women, 1870-1910’, The Journal
of American History, vol. 69, no. 2 (September 1982), pp. 347-71.
8. Antoinette Burton had shown how symbolic and material a site the
Zenana was for the institutionalization of medical education for
women in Victorian Britain in ‘Contesting the Zenana: The Mission
to make Lady Doctors for India, 1874-85’, in Neelam Kumar (ed.),
Women and Science in India, Oxford University Press, New Delhi,
2009, pp. 21-54.
9. Jubilee 1867-1917 Fifty Years Work among Women in the Far East,
Women’s Missionary Association of the Baptist Missionary Society,
The Carey Press, London, p. 7.
10. Ibid., p. 10.
11. Barbara Welter, ‘She Hath Done What She Could: Protestant Women’s
Missionary Careers in Nineteenth Century America’, American
Quarterly, vol. 30. no. 5, Special Issue: Women and Religion (Winter,
1978), p. 631.
12. Patricia R. Hill, The World Their Household: The American Woman’s
Foreign Mission Movement and Cultural Transformation, 1870-1920,
Women and Culture Series, The University of Michigan Press, 1985;
Brumberg, op. cit., pp. 347-71; Rosemarie Zagarri, ‘The Postcolonial
Culture of Eearly American Women’s Writing’, Cambridge
Companions Online, Cambridge University Press, 2006.
13. Zagarri, ibid.
14. Ann White, ‘Counting the Cost of Faith: America’s Early Female
Missionaries’, Church History, vol. 57, no.1, March 1988, p. 25.
15. Rev. Edmund F. Merriam, The American Baptist Missionary Union
and its Missions, Boston, 1987.
16. The WABFMS was not an autonomous organization, but worked
 Gendered Mission 639

under the umbrella and was subservient to the general society, the
American Baptist Foreign Mission Society (ABFMS).
17. White, op. cit., p. 28.
18. Ibid., pp. 28-9.
19. Jubilee 1867-1917, op. cit., p. 3.
20. Ibid., pp. 2-3.
21. Ibid., p. 32.
22. The neo-Vaishnavite faith of Sankaradev (1449-1568), also known
as eka-sarana nama dharma, had been firmly established and
institutionalized in the valley through a network of satras or
monasteries which linked its believers and almost all Assamese
villages to one satra or the other.
23. Shihabuddin Talish, cited in E.A. Gait, A History of Assam, L.B.S.
Publications, Guwahati, 1905, reprinted 2004, p. 138.
24. John M’Cosh, Topography of Assam, Logos Press, New Delhi, 1837,
p. 21.
25. Census Report of India, Assam 1891.
26. William Robinson, A Descriptive Account of Assam, Calcutta, 1841,
Sanskaran Prakashak, Delhi, 1975, p. 277.
27. The early female missionaries were Mary Rankin (1873-4), Anna
K. Sweet (1875-86), Orrell Keeler (1875-87), Miriam Russell (1879­
84), Anna K. Brandt (1881-3), Nettie Purssell (1885-9) Ella C. Bond
(1886), Charlotte Purssell (1887-91), Laura A. Amy (1891-5), Nora
M. Yates (1891-4), Stella H. Mason (1886-1901), Henrietta F. Morgan
(1895), Isabella Wilson (1895), Lolie Daniels (1897) and Alberta
Sumner (1897-8). Except for a few, most of them married the male
missionaries to become missionaries’ wives.
28. Orrell Keeler, ‘Woman’s Work among the Assamese’, Papers and
Discussions of the Jubilee Conference of the Assam Mission held
in Nowgong, 18-29 December 1886, in The Assam Mission of
the American Baptist Missionary Union, Spectrum Publications,
Guwahati, 1992, p. 184.
29. Ibid., p. 188.
30. Ibid.
31. Ibid., p. 189.
32. Minutes, Resolutions and Historical Papers of the Second Triennial
Conference, Assam Mission, Gauhati, 21-30 December 1889, p. 10.
33. Minutes, Resolutions and Historical Reports of Assam Baptist Mis­
sionary Conference, Sixth Session, Gauhati, 22-31 December 1900.
640 Tejimala Gurung

34. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Report, Twenty-Second

Session, Gauhati, - 5-12 December, 1924; Assam Baptist Missionary
Conference Report, Forty-First Session, Nowgong, 9-13 November
1944.
35. Downs, op. cit., p. 42.
36. Mrs P.H. Moore (ed.), Twenty Years in Assam, 1901, Western Book
Depot, Panbazar, Gauhati, reprinted 1982, pp. 1-222; Further Leaves
From Assam, first published from Nowgong, Assam, by author in
1907, Spectrum Publications, Guwahati, 2014, pp. 1-191; Autumn
Leaves From Assam, first published from Nowgong, Assam, by
author in 1910, Spectrum Publications, Guwahati, 1997, pp. 1-97;
Stray Leaves From Assam, first published from Rochester, New
York, by author in 1916, Spectrum Publications, Guwahati, 1997,
pp. 1-117.
37. Moore, Twenty Years in Assam, op. cit., pp. 21-2.
38. Ibid., p. 51.
39. Ibid., p. 37.
40. Ibid., p. 45.
41. Ibid., p. 61.
42. Ibid., p. 133.
43. Ibid.
44. Moore, Further Leaves From Assam, op. cit., pp. 9, 11.
45. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference, Sixth Session, Gauhati, 22-31
December 1900, p. 20.
46. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference , Tenth Session, Gauhati, 8-17
January 1910, p. 39.
47. Ibid.
48. Ibid., p. 40.
49. Ibid., p. 41.
50. Letter Dated Gowalpara, 27 January, 1873, published in the Baptist
Missionary Magazine, LIII, 5 May 1873, p. 143. Cited in Downs,
op. cit., p. 57.
51. William Hunter, A Statistical Account of Assam, vol. II, Trubner and
Co, London, 1879.
52. Bina Lahkar, Development in Women’s Education: Study of Assam,
Omson’s Publication, New Delhi, 1987.
53. B.C. Allen, E.A. Gait, C.G.H. Allen and H.F. Howard, Gazetteer of
Bengal and North-East India, Mittal Publications, New Delhi, 2008,
pp. 479, 510, 540, 570. As per the Census, the total population of
Assam including Cachar and Surma Valley was 6,123,053 of which
 Gendered Mission 641

56 per cent were Hindus, 26 per cent were Muslims, 17 per cent
animists. Christians in all numbered 33,595, pp. 52-6.
54. Ibid., pp. 479, 493.
55. General Report of Public Instruction in Assam, 1900-1901, Shillong
1903, p. 14.
56. Rev. C.E. Burdette, ‘History of the Gauhati Field’, The Assam Mission
of the American Baptist Missionary Union, Spectrum Publications,
Guwahati, 1992, p. 49.
57. Ibid.
58. Allen, Gait, Allen and Howard, op. cit., p. 540.
59. Moore, Twenty Years in Assam, op. cit., pp. 35, 46.
60. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference, Sixth Session, op. cit., p. 20.
61. Allen, Gait, Allen and Howard, op. cit., p. 570.
62. Moore, Autumn Leaves From Assam, op. cit., p. 87.
63. Moore, Stray Leaves From Assam, op. cit., p. 34.
64. Moore, Twenty Years in Assam, op. cit., p. 24.
65. Victor Hugo, Baptists in Assam: A Century of Missionary Service
1836-1936, Conference Press, USA, 1935, reprinted Spectrum
Publication, Guwahati, 1992, p. 73.
66. H.K. Barpujari, The American Missionaries and North-East India
(1836-1900): A Documentary Study, Spectrum Publications, 1986,
pp. 109, 112.
67. Downs, The Mighty Works of God: A Brief History of The Council of
Baptist Churches in North East India: The Mission Period 1836-1950,
Christian Literature Centre, Guwahati, revised edn, 2014, pp. 35-6.
68. Keeler, op. cit., pp. 186-7.
69. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Report, Twenty-Ninth Session,
Jorhat, 2-8 December 1931, p. 12.
70. Downs, op. cit., p. 48.
71. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Report, Forty-Second Session,
Jorhat, 8-12 November 1945, p. 31.
72. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Report, Forty-Sixth Session,
Golaghat, 3-9 January 1950, p. 81.
73. By 1901 out of a total of 52 missionaries, 30 were sent to work amongst
just 7,50,000 hill people; 15 to work in the valley (1,500,000) and
seven amongst the immigrant tea labour in the plains (5,50,000).
74. Lindrid D. Shira, ‘Origin and the Growth of Christian Girls’ School’,
The School With a Mission, A Souvenir to Commemorate the
Platinum Jubilee of the Christian Girls’ High School, Tura (1920­
95), 1995, p. 2.
642 Tejimala Gurung

75. Miriam R. Burdette, ‘Work for Garo Women’, Jubilee Issue, 1886,
pp. 192-200, pp. 194-5.
76. Diamai, op. cit., pp. 115-16.
77. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Report, Thirty-Ninth Session,
Golaghat, 4-9 December, 1941, p. 37.
78. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Report, Forty-Second Session,
op. cit., p. 29.
79. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Report, Forty-Sixth Session,
op. cit., p. 80.
80. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Report, Thirty-Ninth Session,
op. cit., p. 38.
81. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Report, Forty-Sixth Session,
op. cit., p. 78.
82. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Report, Thirty-Eight Session,
Kohima, Assam, 1941, p. 46.
83. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Report, Thirty- Ninth Session,
op. cit., p. 40.
84. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Report, Thirty-Seventh Session,
Jorhat, 4-9 January 1940, p. 35.
85. L.M. Holbrook, Assam Baptist Missionary Conference, 1917, pp. 42­
3; Montgomery, Helen Barrett, Following the Sunrise: A Century of
Baptist Missions, 1813-1913, American Baptist Publication Society,
1913, p. 87.
86. Sixty-Eight Annual Report of the Woman’s American Baptist Foreign
Mission Society, 1938-9, p. 26.
87. Diamai, op. cit., p. 138.
88. Downs, The Mighty Works of God, op. cit., p. 83.
89. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Reports of Thirty-Seventh,
Thirty-Ninth, Forty-Second, Forty-Third, Forty-Fifth and Forty-
Sixth Sessions held at Jorhat, 4-9 January 1940; Golaghat, 4-9
December 1941, p. 39; Jorhat, 8-12 November 1945, p. 29; Gauhati,
Assam, 6-10 December 1946, p. 27; Jorhat, 11-16 January 1949, p. 31
and Golaghat, 3-9 January 1950, p. 77, respectively.
90. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Report, Thirty-Ninth Session,
op. cit., p. 39.
91. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Report, Fortieth Session,
Nowgong, 5-9 November 1943, p. 34.
92. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Report, Forty-Second Session,
op. cit., p. 31.
 Gendered Mission 643

93. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Report, Forty-Third Session,

Gauhati, Assam, 6-10 December 1946, p. 30.
94. Jubilee 1867-1917, op. cit., p. 33.
95. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Report, Thirty-Eighth Session,
Kohima, Assam, 1941, p. 41.
96. General Report on Public Instruction in Assam, 1932-33, Shillong,
1934, Chapter VII, Assam State Archives, p. 27.
97. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Report, Thirty-Ninth Session,
op. cit., p. 37.
98. Ibid., p. 41.
99. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Report, Forty-Second Session,
op. cit., p. 31.
100. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Report, Thirty-Eighth Session,
op. cit., p. 46.
101. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Report, Forty-Second Session,
op. cit., p. 30.
102. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Report, Thirty-Ninth Session,
op. cit., p. 38.
103. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Report, Forty-Sixth Session,
op. cit., p. 78.
104. The Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Report, Twenty-Fifth
Session, Golaghat, 23 November-1 December 1927, p. 8.
105. Assam Baptist Missionary Conference Report, Twenty-Ninth Session,
Jorhat, 2-8 December 1931, p. 12.
106. Carol C. Chin, ‘Beneficient Imperialist: American Women Mission­
aries in China at the Turn of the Twentieth Century’, Diplomatic
History, vol. 27, no. 3 (June 2003), The Society for Historians of
American Foreign Relations (SHAFR), Blackwell Publishing,
Malden, Massachusetts, USA, pp. 328-30.
107. As far as conversion was concerned the mission could achieve
‘successes’ only in the Hills amongst the Garo and Naga tribes. In
the Brahmaputra Valley, Christianity failed to make much headway,
its converts coming mainly from some of the Mikir, Kachari and tea
garden labourers.
 Contributors

Adani Ngulie, Assistant Professor Department of History, Unity

College, Dimapur, Nagaland.
Amol Sinha, Associate Professor in History, Janata College,
Kabuganj, Assam.
Anisha Bordoloi, Researcher, Political History of Assam (Project),
1947-2012, Home & Political Department, Govt. of Assam.
Binayak Datta, Assistant Professor, Deparment of History, North
Eastern Hill University, Shillong.
Bipul Chaudhari, Assistant Professor, Deparment of History,
Dibrugarh University, Assam.
David Reid Syiemlieh, Retired Professor, Deparment of History,
North Eastern Hill University, Shillong.
David Vumlallian Zou, Assistant Professor, Department of
History, University of Delhi, Delhi.
Donald Teron, Assistant Professor (retd) in History, Pailapool
College, Assam.
Jagdish Lal Dawar, Professor, Department of History and
Ethnography (retd), Mizoram University, Mizoram.
Hoineilhing Sitlhou, Assistant Professor, Department of
Sociology, University of Hyderabad, Hyderabad.
B. Eswara Rao, Associate Professor, Department of History,
University of Hyderabad, Hyderbad.
M. Satish Kumar, Associate Professor, School of Natural and Built
Environment (Historical Geography), Queen’s University Belfast,
Northern Ireland.
646 Contributors

Lalhmingliani Ralte, Associate Professor, Department of

History, Government of Aizawl North College, Aizawl.
Jangkhomang Guite, Associate Professor, Department of History,
Manipur University, Imphal.
J.V. Hluna, Professor in History (retd), Pachunga University
College, Mizoram University, Mizoram.
Luke Daimary, Assistant Professor in History, Pailapool College,
Assam.
Meeta Deka, Professor, Department of History, Gauhati University,
Gauhati.
Pum Khan Pau, Associate Professor, Department of History,
Manipur University, Imphal.
Nabanipa Bhattacharjee, Professor, Department of Sociology,
Sri Venkatshwara College, University of Delhi, Delhi.
Rohmingmawii, Assistant Professor in History, Pachunga
University College, Mizoram University, Mizoram.
Sangkima, Professor and Principal (retd), Aizawl Government
College, Aizawl, Mizoram.
Sajal Nag, Professor, Department of History, Assam University,
Silchar, Assam.
Santanu Sarkar, Associate Professor, Department of Bengali,
Assam University, Silchar, Assam.
Sarah Hilaly, Professor, Department of History, Rajiv Gandhi
University, Arunachal Pradesh.
Shiela Bora, Professor (retd) , Department of History, Dibrugarh
University, Assam.
Th.R.Tiba, Professor, Department of History, Assam University,
Diphu Campus, Assam.
Tejimala Gurung Nag, Professor, Department of History, North
Eastern Hill University, Shillong.