Medieval and Early Colonial Assam Society Polity Economy 9788170740766 8170740762 Compress

MEDIEVAL AND EARLY COLONIAL ASSAM
Medieval and Early

Colonial Assam
Society, Polity, Economy
AMALENDU G UH A
4?
Published for
Centre for Studies in Social Scienccs, Calcutta
by
K P BACCHI & COMPANY
CALCUTTA NEW DELHI
First Published in 1991
K P Bagchi & Company
- f i n 286 B. B. Ganguli Street, Calcutta 700012
1-1698 Chittanjnjan Park, New Delhi 110019
© Centre for Studies in Social Sciences, Calcutta
IWJ ISBN 81-7074-076-2
Type-Selling b y :
The Bengal P. T. S. & Computer Centre
9A, Roy Bagan Street, Calcutta 700006
Printed b y :
Printed b y :
Angel Printers
437B, Rabindra Sarani,
(Sovabazar)
Calcutta — 5
Published b y :
Susanta Ghosh
Registrar, Centre for Studies in Social Sciences, Calcutta
10, Lake Terrace, Calcutta 700029
To
Anima, Supratik and Monisha
CONTENTS
FOREWORD ix
INTRODUCTION xiii
U ST OF TABLES AND MAPS xvii
1. The Geography behind The History 1

2. The Historiographical Perspective 29
3. Land Rights and Social Classes 39
4. The Tai Migration and its Impact on The Rice Economy 61
5. From Tribalism to Feudalism: 1600-1750 82
6. Peasant Uprisings and The Feudal Crisis 98
7. Colonialization : Years of Transitional Crisis 139
8. Colonialization : The Second Phase 1840-59 159
9. A big Push without A Take-off 186
10. The Impact of The Bengal Renaissance 206
11. Agrarian Structures in The Late Nineteenth Century 219
12. Imperialism of Opium 280
Bibliography 297
Index 307
FOREWORD
History in the round, history that takes into account the solidity and
the rigidity of the terra firma, yet recognizes the constant changes
wrought by human endeavour on it and within the limits set by it,
history that can describe the myriad aspects of human consciousness as
expressed in literature, art and in social institutions such as the family,
the kin group, the tribal formation, castes and states remains an
ambitious yet unattainable goal for most historians or social
scientists. The great exemplars of this genre, of course, remain the
myriad volumes turned out by the Annales school of historians in
France. Without any conscious attempt to imitate the methods of the
Annales school, through a sense of deep engagement with the material
and through a lifetime of scholarly endeavour, Professor Amalendu
Guha has brought off a feat—a feat of writing the history of medieval
and early colonial Assam in the round.
For Indian social scientists this achievement not only sets a
standard to emulate. The history of medieval and early colonial Assam
has a fascination of its own. Assam was for many of us a land of
mythic frontiers, not only the frontier of myths, but also of the
intrepid European planters taming the jungles to produce the tea for
the civilized world. For those of us who were more concerned with the
fate of the human beings whom the European planters disposed of as
so many animate tools, Assam was also the frontier where an alien
civilization bred a new kind of slavery. Nearer our own time, the
Assam movement and other political movements demanding new
kinds of autonomy in the name of the people posed fresh challenges to
our understanding and to our capacity to act as responsible citizens of
an independent country.
Professor Guha dispels much of the mythic opacity from the land
and the people he has so lovingly and yet so dispassionately portrayed.
We understand the difficulties of communication between the plains
and the hills, between different stretches of the Brahmaputra, between
the hilltops and the valleys, between hill people enjoying a kind of
primitive affluence and plains immigrants winning land from the
swamps foot by weary fopt But if he only stressed the difficulties.
[X]
Professor Guha would have given us an etiolated narrative at best. He

goes on to show how communication and trade created symbiotic
structures between hill and plains-people and between different groups
of plains-people and hill-people. He also shows how changes took
place in the patterns of living of different groups of people under the
impact of perennial wet rice cultivation as against shifting (jhum)
cultivation or under the impact of the coming of the iron plough to
gradually displace the hoe as the main implement of cultivation.
He shows how a structure of feudal relations was built up in the
Tai-Ahom kingdom, and how, paradoxically enough, a process of
Hinduization helped these conquerors from further east consolidate
their power on a basis of hierarchical ideology. He stresses the
specificities of the Vaishnavism that spread in Assam in the sixteenth
and seventeenth centuries, and shows how the more radical sects of the.
Vaishnavas inevitably came into conflict with the feudal state
apparatus. He goes on to explore both the ideological and the more
materialistic roots of the Moamaria revolt of the late eighteenth
century. Peasant discontent found its idiom, if not its ideological
moorings, in the neo-Vaishnavite movement of the Moamara
(Mayamara) Satra. This conflict exhausted both the contending parties,
and prepared the way for a brief Burman conquest followed by the
British take-over.
Professor Guha is as careful a guide to the history of the
colonialization of Assamese economy and society as he had been of
the precolonial period. His work on the plantation economy of Assam
is, of course, by now a recognized classic. But he takes us outside the
boundaries of the planter Raj, and shows the peasants of the
Brahmaputra valley in their exploited and differentiated state. But he
shows them also responding to new stimuli emanating from the
international and the larger Indian economy.
Professor Guha often talks of state formation and de-tribalization as
processes operating in medieval Assam. But it is a proof of his
sensitivity to the tenacious maintenance of identities of different
groups Of people that we never lose sight of the Bodo-Kocharis, the
Koch»Koches or the Tai-Ahoms even while they are being
intermingled with one another in the melting pot of Assam. They
enrich one another's culture, but the enrichment somehow requires that
the distinctiveness of each people is recalled from time to time.
Cxi]
We are now passing through periodic ethno-linguistic conflicts in

different parts of the country—conflicts that sometime take a violent
form. I would like to believe that in a democracy, if the different
peoples with distinctive memories recognize one another's
contribution to the rich tapestry that is Indian culture, then political
solutions within a constitutional framework can be worked o u t
Professor Guha has presented a historical portrait which is a
microcosm of India. But we must recognize that for purposes of
cultural synthesis, symbiosis and cffluence, Assam is rich enough to
be a macrocosm in itself. I hope other people will read the book with
as much wonder and as much pleasure as I have done. I consider it a
privilege that I have worked with a scholar of Professor Guha's
distinctive stamp for more than fifteen years in the same institution.
21 May 1990 Amiya Kumar Bagchi

Director
Centre for Studies in Social Sciences,
Calcutta
INTRODUCTION
Contributions included in this volume have been selected from a wide

range of research papers I published over a span of twenty year?
between 1965 and 1985. These were written to add certain new
dimensions to the stereotyped interpretations of Assam's past, handed
down to Us by historians of imperialist and nationalist schools. I have
not undertaken now any large-scale revision of what I wrote earlier.
Not much accretion to our received knowledge has occurred meanwhile
to warrant such revision.
It appears that, mine were among the earliest attempts at applying
what D. D. Kosambi used to call 'the combined method of history'
towards understanding Assam, a region grossly neglected in our
national historiography. This is why I have ventured to bunch together
some of those original texts in one place within easy reach of the new
generation now taking increasing interest in that methodology.
However, while making a coherent whole of the intermittently
published disparate pieces, some marginal emendations could not be
avoided. We have also shortened their original titles while arranging
them serially around a central argument. Their full titles and first
publication details have however been listed, among other entries, in
our bibliography section. Since all non-English terms have repeatedly
been explained in their appropriate places in the text, no glossary has
been provided.
Whether or not India's pre-colonial social formation was feudal in
essence and whether or not colonialism helped promotion of its
transition to a new formation have currently been the two major issues
of debate. I have examined both in the light of the experience of just
one region, Assam. Here under the 600-year old dynastic rule of the
Ahoms, an offshoot of the Tai people of Southeast Asian origin, a
[xiv]
variant of feudalism emerged directly from tribal formations. The first

six contributions in this volume highlight certain peculiar aspects of
this feudalism which underwent a political and moral collapse even
before the British appeared on the scene. An economic crisis
culminating in peasant revolts hastened this collapse. The remaining
six contributions examine what colonialization meant for the
Assamese people in terms of economy and culture and why it lacked a
regenerative role. Even its destructive role vis-a -vis the old
institutions was limited and hailing, because of its compromises with
feudal elements and its commitment to an enclave economy. Tea
change’ was in no way a sea change for the better.
The central perspective that runs through this collection is as
follows. Essentially feudal though, the mode of production that thrived -
in medieval Assam sharply contrasted with comparable modes that
coexisted elsewhere in India not only in scale but also in quality. The
basis of this contrast was not so much in the realm of production
relations, as in that of the productive forces. Therefore and for other
reasons the transition from a pre-modem to modem society here was
also of a different genre. Colonialism reduced the indigenes more or
less to one dead level and built enclaves of capitalism where they
hardly had any place. Neither E. A. Gait, nor S. K. Bhuyan, nor even
H. K. Barpujari or Maheswar Neog—all historians of eminence—
could aptly comprehend the process, because of the limitations of their /
conservative ideology and perspectives. They missed much of the
dynamics of the medieval society and of the colonial domination that
followed.
A historical process is not determined by a mere series of accidents,
nor is it determined by ideology or economic factors alone. Yet it is
the predominant role of the material conditions of social life, and the
class struggle within it, that underlies the dynamics of change. This is
how I looked at the developments in Assam and, to my satisfaction,
found new lines of enquiry opening up. Quite a number of younger
scholars with a Marxist orientation and commitment to Northeast
India as a subject of historical enquiry found keen interest in my
writings and, in their turn, are already making significant
[ XV]
contributions in the field. It is to their insistence that the present

publication is primarily indebted.
For more than sixteen years till recently, I had been on the
academic staff of the Centre for Studies in Social Sciences, Calcutta
and before that for more than six years on that of the Gokhale Institute
of Politics and Economics, Pune. It is in these two institutes that my
writings took their final shape and I am particularly grateful to the
former for getting this collection published. I am also grateful to all
those with whom I had the privilege to work together—I do not like
to name only a chosen few—for every kind of help towards its
preparation.
Amalendu Guha
’Jamini Park'
Ulubari, G. S. Road,
Guwahati: 781007
4
LIST OF TABLES
Table No. Page
1.1 Population of the Hill Region : 8

Northeast India 1881 and 1891.
1.2 Select Data on Extent of Cultivation 16
and Population Density 1853-75.
1.3 Population of Major Castes and Tribes : 18
Brahmaputra Valley (1881).
1.4 Distribution of Households by Caste : 26
Nowgong District 1850-51.
3.1 Some Land Grants of 18th Century Assam. 54-55
4.1 Rice Economy of Assam : 1901-02. 72
4.2 Distribution of Indigenous Population 75*76
Groups in Assam Proper: 1901.
7.1 Assam's Trade Statistics : 1808-09 150
(estimated at Goalpara opposite Hadira
Chowki).
7.2 Assam's Trade Statistics : 1832 to 1835 152
(recorded at Hadira Chowki).
7.3 Revenue Receipts and Disbursements: 155
Assam Proper 1824-25 to 1837-38.
7.4 Prices in Darrang District: 1833-1835. 156
7.5 Population of Assam Proper: 1826, 156
1853 and 1872.
7.6 Wastelands Settlement Rules: Revenue 157
Rates of 1838 and 1854.
8.1 The Assam Company's Statistics : 1840-59. 176
8.2 Total Area under Tea in Assam Proper: 1859. 178
8.3 Exports from Select Districts of Assam to 178
Bengal: 1852.
8.4 Imports into Select Districts of Assam from 180
Bengal: 1852.
[ x v iii ]
8.5 Total Cultivated Acreage in Assam Proper. 181

8.6 Select Exports and Their Prices : 181
Comparison Over Time.
9.1 Tea Statistics of Assam Proper: 200
1875-76 to 1901.
9.2 Average Price Index of Rice, Salt and 201
T ea: 1861 to 1901.
9.3 Average Monthly Wage of Agricultural
and Plantation Labour. 201
9.4 Density of Population Per Sq. Mile : 202
Brahmaputra Valley 1872-1951.
9.5 Index of cropped Acreage upto 1901 for 202
Assam Proper.
9.6 Percentage Area under Different Crops to 203
Total Cropped Area in Assam Proper:
1882-83 to 1900-01.
11.1 Area and Population of Assam Proper: 220
1872 to 1901.
11.2 Tenure-wise Classification of Settled 237
Acreage in Assam Proper 1897-98.
11.3 Available Data on Ten Households 250
Hiring Out Labour: 1888.
11.4 Classification of Agricultural Population 255
of Assam Proper: 1891.
12.1 Opium Revenue and Consumption in Assam 292
1880-1921: Some Indices.
Sketch-maps
1. Physical and Ethnic Features : Northeast India. 3
2. The Homeland of the Ahoms. 75
ABBREVIATIONS
[ Not many abbreviations have been used which need clarification.

Those which need are given below. ]
CUP The Cambridge University Press

DHAS The Department of Historical and Antiquarian Studies,
Government of Assam, Guwahati.
GOI The Government of India
ICCR The Indian Council for Cultural Relations, New Delhi.
IESHR The Indian Economic and Social History Review, Delhi.
JARS Journal of the Assam Research Society, Guwahati.
JASB Journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal, Calcutta.
JBORS Journal of the Bihar and Orissa Research Society, Patna.
NAI The National Archives of India, Delhi.
PPH The People's Publishing House, New Delhi.
*
I
1
The Geography behind the History
I ntroduction *
Economic history essentially relates to the human factor which widely

varies from people to people and from time to time. Yet an enquiry
into the physical environment—location, rainfall, relief, soils, mineral
resources, natural vegetation and all that—is not altogether a fruitless
exercise for its purposes, since material culture is a product of man's
action upon nature. Such an enquiry may at least enable us to arrive at
some general statements about a country's past This is particularly so
when relevant information from usual sources are either altogether
missing or inadequate.
Fringed on three sides and interesected in the middle by high
mountain ranges, the northeast region of India was never entirely cut
off from the currents of historical change that shaped the subcontinent
In the valley of the Brahmaputra, the civilization flourishing in the
Indo-Gangetic plains took root quite early. It was even enriched on
occasions by direct or vicarious culture contacts with Chinese
civilization. Pelliot has shown that from at least the 2nd century B.C.,
there was a regular trade route far several hundred years between eastern
India and China through Upper Burma and Yunnan.1
The difficulties of a hilly and swampy terrain and the consequent
relative isolation from the rest of the changing world could not stop
culture contacts. The knowledge ofagriculturcand the smelting and
working of iron and other metals had reached Assam long before the
Gupta age. So numerous and extensive were the traces of former
excavations for iron ores in the Khasi-Jaintia Hills that, early in the
nineteenth century, such mining activity was believed to have
continued for some twenty centuries.2 The Austric-speaking matrilineal
Northeast India indudes Arunachal, Assam, Nagaland, Meghalaya, Mizoram, Manipur

and Tripura. However, in the present study the main focus is on the Brahmaputra Valley
of Assam.
2 MEDIEVAL AND EARLY COLONIAL ASSAM
Khasis, originally representing a shouldered stone hoe culture, are

believed to have entered northeast India from west China around 1000-
500 B.C.3 Their metallurgical knowledge appears, however, to be a
later development. The fundamental change from stone age hunting and
food gathering techniques to early iron age civilization in northeast
India skipped the stage of copper and bronze.
However, because of inhibiting geographic and ethnic factors, the
spread of the iron-tipped plough in northeast India was somewhat
halting, limited and uneven. Till this day it is fire-farming (jhum) and
associated hoe cultivation that dominates the hill area. In the plains
too, various forms of land-intensive shifting cultivation still
stubbornly persist here and there, even after substitution of the hoe by
the plough many centuries back. This phenomenon cannot be
adequately explained without reference to the relevant geophysical
factors and ethnology.
References to the Kingdom of Kamarupa in our epics and puranas,
rock inscriptions going as far back as the fifth century, subsequent
epigraphic and archaeological ruins found in the region, and above all,
the predominance of Sanskrit-based languages in the plains—all clearly
testify to an early beginning there of the process of Sanskritization.
Suniti Kumar Chatterjee argues that the 'Aryanization' of the ruling
classes in the western part of the Assam area, that is Kamarupa, was
completed as early as circa A. D. 400. According to him, the
Brahmaputra valley definitely appears to have become a part of Aryan
speaking India by A.D. 12004. But this view has to be accepted with
some reservation. For, even thereafter many tribes of the valley
continued to maintain their own speech, as well as their peculiar modes
of cultivation, housing, funeral rites and religious beliefs. On the other
hand, the Aryan way of life itself was permeated—as Yoginitantram
(II, 9, 13), a presumably seventeenth century work, points out—with
non-Aryan ways of the Kirata (Bodo-Kachari) people.
The census data of 1872 and 1881 reveal that the region's hill
population in toto remained non-Hindu and preliterate, while some
one-half or so of its indigenous valley people could be designated as
pure or recently Hinduized tribes. Hence, one may presume that the
bulk of the medieval population of northeast India escaped
Sanskritization despite their Hinduized ruling families. The greater part
of this region remained independent of, though not detached from the
successive Indian empires of the past This political isolation that w as
progressively abridged only after 1826 is yet another influencing factor
in the region's economic history.
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THE GEOGRAPHY BEHIND THE HISTORY 3
In the following sections, an attempt will be made to gauge the

impact of both geographic and ethnic factors on the region's medieval
material culture with reference to Assam, particularly the Brahmaputra
valley.
T h e E c o n o m y o f t h e H il l R e g io n
The Himalayan and the Meghalayan Ranges (in all 90,000 square
miles) surrounding the Brahmaputra basin on its three sides, are
peopled by various tribes speaking Tibeto-Burman languages. The only
exception to this are the matrilineal Khasi-Jaintia people who speak an
Austric language. None of these languages had a written form until the
coming of the Christian missionaries in the field. The people of
western Kameng in Arunachal however, had some two centuries ago
adopted Tibetan as their written language.
The rice economy of the hill region, supplemented by food
gathering, hunting and fishing, was never self-sufficienL But the hills
produced among other things cotton, long pepper, vegetables and in
some areas oranges (sumathira). These, as well as rock salt, iron and
wild forest products were from times immemorial bartered for the
surplus rice, dried fish, silk and cotton piece-goods of the plains. Hill
people used to come down to the plains every winter for their barter
trade or marauding raids. Some of them even settled down on the banks
of the hill streams in the foothills plains for an easier living. They
thus served as a link in the channel of communications between the
plains and the hills. This plains-hills continuum, through successive
waves of migration from the hills to the plains, retarded the tempo of
Sanskritization in the Brahmaputra Valley, despite its very early start
Jhuming as a form of cultivation dominates the hill economy.
Under this form, selected forest plots on hill slopes are cleared by
slashing down and burning the jungles. These plots are cultivated
continuously for some three years or so and then left fallow for several
years. Cultivation involves hardly any tilling. Seeds are simply sown
broadcast on the ashes, or are dibbled into holes with a digging stick or
a hoe—the practice varying from place to place and from tribe to tribe.
The sowing may be done for mixed crops on the same plot or far crops
grown separately on different plots. The practice again varies according
to the local custom. Jhuming is thus multiform. It involves the full
and continuous utilization of a plot of land to the point of exhaustion.
The shifting cultivator has an understanding of his environment He
knows what crops grow best on what soils. He knows how many
successive crops he can raise from a given plot and how many years of
rest it requires thereafter. His indices of restored fertility are the

vegetational phases that follow the cultivation. The jhum system
requires in the long run ten to fifteen times more land to maintain a
family than what is required for wet cultivation on permanent fields.
But over a year, even half-an-acre of virgin land under mixed crops
might suffice for a nuclear family of five, allowing for the exchange of
the surplus cotton for rice and taking into consideration the free jungle
products.5
Shifting cultivation should be taken more as a concession to
conditions of land abundance and the character of the soils than as a
'device of barbarism'. Moreover, animal-drawn ploughs are unsuitable
for hilly tracts. In western Kameng as in Bhutan, the plough was
introduced early under the Tibetan influence even on high altitudes. The
plough used in Bhutan in the nineteenth century was found superior to
that commonly used in Assam and Bengal. The plough in use is not
unlike the Bengalee plough', wrote Ashley Eden, Tjut the pole
connecting the plough and the yoke, instead of being straight, is
curved; an angle is thus procured which sends the share a good depth
into the ground.6 But the primitive all-wood plough used by the
Buddhist Sherdukpen tribe of western Kameng is very light and fit only
for the soft soil. The plough is not unknown to the other Monpa tribes
of western Kameng. But the Apatanis who carry on transplanted wet
paddy cultivation on permanent fields of the Rupa Valley in Arunachal
on the other hand, do so only with hoes and not the plough. In
Meghalaya plough cultivation was first noticed by the British around
1834 only in certain parts like the Jaintia Hills, where bulls and not
bullocks were yoked for this purpose.7 Barring these few exceptions,
the absence of plough has been a general feature of the hill economy as
such.
Nevertheless, permanent terrace cultivation, i.e., the cultivation of
narrow, built-up land-strips on hill slopes co-existed with jhuming
amongst advanced tribes. In this form of cultivation, the land strips are
rimmed with mud and stones so that the rainwater or water led into
them from neighbouring streams can be retained. Hoeing is carefully
done and the terraced fields tend to be permanent hereditary property of
the individuals. The terrace cultivation is widely practised by the
Apatanis as well as the Monpas of Arunachal, the Maos and the
Tangkhuls of Manipur, the Angamis of Nagaland and, in recent times,
by the Khasis.
Of all the hill tribes it is the Khasis whose agriculture has been
traditionally the most diversified. Jhuming apart, they also divide up
the bottoms of the valleys into little compartments by means of fairly
high banks. Water is let in at will by means of irrigation channels,

sometimes a mile or more in length. P.R.T. Gurdon who held the
Khasi method of manuring to be 'much in advance of any system of
natural manuring to be seen elsewhere in the Province' described their
system of wet rice cultivation as follows :*
The soil is made up into a thick paste in the Jaintia Hills by means of
the plough and in the Khasi Hills through the agency of the hoe. Droves of
cattle also are driven repeatedly over the paddy Helds until the mud has
acquired the right consistency. The seed is then sown broadcast in the wet
mud. It is not sown first in a seedling pad and then transplanted, as in
Assam and Bengal.
Side by side with agriculture, the Khasis are traditionally used also to
horticulture and bee-keeping.
Production of grains has always been deficient in the hill region.
Hence, the diet had to be supplemented with all kinds of cultivated and
wild edible roots and greens as well as by hunting and fishing. No kind
of vegetable oil or refined or semi-refined sweetening material was
generally in use amongst the hill tribes until recent times. Their
abhorrence to milk and milk products—except in certain pockets of
Tibetan influence in Arunachal—persists till this day. However, the
breeding of livestock as a source of meat supply and for ritual
purposes, has been important in the hills. Pig-rearing and poultry-
keeping are common to all tribes. Mithan (bos frontalis) as a semi
domestic animal is present in almost all the hills; but oxen are found
only in areas that have close connections with the valley.
The simplicity of tribal society hindered specialization of economic
activities. Some tribes, rather some villages within such tribes, were
indeed specialized in crafts like weaving, pottery and basketry and in
trading. The technology was much more backward than what prevailed
in the valleys. For example, the potter's wheel, four-footed handloom,
the oil press, the sugar mill and the foot-operated rice-pounder (Dhenki)
were not known in the hills. Hillmen made little or no use of pack
animals. They used to carry eveything, even the goods for barter, on
their backs. Baskets, slung over the back and suspended by a stout
strap across the brow, were used for carrying goods. Only in Bhutan
and western Kameng, the use of yaks and ponies as beasts of burden
was as common as the human transportation. Water mills were used in
western Kameng, as in Bhutan, for the grinding of wheat which was
rare in other regioris. Wooden block presses for printing religious
books in their monasteries had been in use since at least the
seventeenth century. But these had no impact on the people of the
neighbouring hills and the plains of Assam. The only other tribe using
water mills were the Khamtis, who migrated from Upper Burma into
Assam in the late eighteenth century.
Extensive forest and wasteland resources made life easy in the hills
in many respects. Timber, bamboo, reeds, thatching grass and canes
were free forest products. These were used in the construction of houses
or in making tools, weapons, canoes, traps, stamping blocks and
pounding poles, snares, mats, baskets, and ropes. There was very little
use of iron except for making weapons. Nevertheless mining and even
the smelting of ores were carried on by some tribes. The greater part of
the iron production in Khasi-Jaintia Hills was marketed in the plains.
The despatch of iron lumps, hoes, arrowheads and even ploughshares
from pre-British Khasi and Jaintia Hills for sale in the plains was
estimated at anything between 20,000 and 50,000 maunds annually.
Even so, the Khasis did not manufacture or use nails because of a
taboo.9
The resistance of the tribal society to economic changes need not
however be exaggerated. Wasteful methods of cultivation persist for
lack of other simple alternatives within the reach of their under
standing and economic means. The successful introduction and rapid
spread of potato as a new crop in the Khasi-Jaintia Hills during the
years 1830-40 and later in other hills may be cited as an example of
their capacity to welcome a change. The fact that they had already been
cultivating a similar but inferior kind of tuber explains this success.
Maize, pineapple and chilly—these too contributions of the New
World—were already firmly established crops in the hill region before
the British arrived. The horticulture of the Khasis had also attained a
high degree of specialization by then. In 1828 their gardens were
credited with supplying "almost the whole of Bengal" wih oranges10,
besides a quantity of pan (betel leaf) and tezpat (bay leaf).
Most of the hill tribes had no historical experience of state
formation as distinguished from their primitive tribal organization. The
Tibetan administration had penetrated into certain pockets of Arunachal
in the late medieval period. Amongst others, only the Khasis appear to
have moved towards organized statehood, several centuries before the
arrival of the British on the scene. The petty Khasi village republics of
the Jaintia Hills managed a loose merger in the form of a kingdom
with its authority pushed even over some non-tribal areas of the plains.
The history of this kingdom of Jaintia where the ruling family adopted
Hinduism, can be traced as far back as the fifteenth century. It
THE GEOGRAPHY BEHIND Tfe*tfiSTORY 7
continued its existence till 1835. The Bodo-Kachari tribal state, on

the other hand, had as its territory not only the North Cachar Hills, but
also portions of the Assam plains—the narrow valleys of the Kopili,
the Jamuna and the Dhansiri rivers. It partially retained these tracts to
the last, despite repeated onslaughts from the neighbouring Tai-Ahom
Kingdom (1228-1826) of the Brahmaputra Valley. Many border tribes
of Arunachal and Nagaland were within the Tai-Ahom sphere of
influence, but they maintained their autonomous existence throughout.
The heartland of Arunachal however, was a sort of stateless no-man’s
land between Assam and Tibet. Independent tribes there had relations
with both.
Even in medieval times, the difficult hill region was never closed to
trade. There is evidence of the use of regular caravan routes through
Bhutan and Arunachal by pilgrims and traders of Tibet and India, from
the thirteenth century onwards. Similarly, some trade routes between
the Brahmaputra Valley and Yunnan in China passed through the hill
region. Because of difficult navigation on the Brahmaputra (to be
explained below), the 130-mile land route passing through the Jaintia
Hills from the ancient mart of Sylhet (now in Bangladesh) to Raha in
the Assam plains, was also important during the medieval times.
Jaintiapur (now in Bangladesh), the foothills capital of the State of
Jaintia, served as a great entrepot for barter trade in cotton, iron, wax,
ivory, betel leaves and cloth for salt, tobacco, rice and goats from
Bengal in the early nineteenth century.11 Hence trading had already
become an important economic activity for the Khasis, even in pre-
British times.12 As early as the eighteenth century the cotton of the
Garo Hills found its way to Bengal on a considerable scale, through a
chain of foothills markets and fairs. Garo traders used to procure Bengal
salt and sell it in the foothills markets of the Brahmaputra Valley.
With the mode of cultivation described above, the hill economy
could hardly have supported any sizable population. Even amongst the
most advanced tribes, the density of population could not presumably
have been more than 20 or so per square mile. Realistic conjectures can
be made on the basis of the earliest available census figures which
predate any appreciable demographic impact of the British rule in the
region and are shown in Table I ’1.
TABLE 1.1
Population o f thè Hill Region : Northeast India : 1881 and 1891
District 1881 1891 Density per

sq. mile
(1881)
Assam!Meghalaya
Khasi-Jaintia Hills 167,804 197,904 28
Garo Hills 109,548 121,570 35
North Cachar and *24,433 12
Mikir Hills 77,765 ?
Other Areas:
Aninachal noi. n.a. (Less than 10)
Manipur 221,070* tu l 67
Tripura 95,635* 137,442 23
Naga Hüls 96,480 97,556 31
Lushai Hills(Mizoram) nui. 43,634 (Less than 11)
SOURCElRelevant Census Reports [ 104 ]

* In Manipur, three-fifth of its population lived in the 700 square-mile central valley.
The actual hill people numbered only 85,288. In Tripura, the hill tribes (approx. 50,000)
constituted slightly more than 52 percent of the population. The majority of the
remaining 48 per cent were of migrant origin, and were living in the plains.
In 1881 the density of population per square mile in the Khasi

Jaintia Hills and the North Cachar Hills was twentyeight and twelve,
respectively. The average density for the entire hill tract, covered by the
1881 census, was nineteen per square mile. Aninachal was brought
under census operation for the first time in 1961. The density of
population there was hardly ten per square mile in that year. Assuming
a static density of 10 persons per square mile for the medieval times,
the hill region of northeast India might have supported at the most a
population of 0.9 million. The actual population apparently was even
less.
T he E conomy of the P lains : T hree B ells
The Brahmaputra Valley (22,000 square miles) is an alluvial plain,

about four hundred and fifty miles in length from east to west and with
an average breadth of about fifty miles from north to south. The valley
is shut in on every side except on the w est However, a number of

narrow passes across die hills have facilitated trade and migration from
times immemorial. For example, Tabaqat-i-Nasiri, a 13th-century
historical work in Persian, was aware of India's trade with Tibet
passing through as many as thirtyfive such passes lying between Tibet
and Kamarupa.13 The 311-mile trade route from Udalguri in Assam
plains to Lhasa via Tawang remained important throughout the
nineteenth century.
The valley is criss-crossed with a large number of tributaries of the
Brahmaputra. The greater of the northern streams are snow-fed. Those
from the south—except the Dihing—depend exclusively on the annual
rains for their volume. They shrink and some even dry up during the
winter. These tributaries, therefore, offer navigation facilites only on a
limited scale. Many of them, and the upper courses of all of them are
generally not navigable except for dug-out canoes in the dry season. On
the other hand, the navigation of the Brahmaputra too in the rainy
season, though favoured with westerly winds, is extremely hazardous,
uncertain and dangerous for boats other than canoes. This is because of
crashing banks, floating trees and difficult tracking along the jungle-
covered banks. This explains the preponderance of dug-outs on Assam
waters as noted by several seventeenth, eighteenth and early nineteenth
century sources. Such dug-outs are generally capable of carrying one to
two hundred maunds of goods or more. An exceptionally large-sized
one (holong) could even carry up to eight hundred maunds.
A moderate-sized boat used to take, on an average, four to six
weeks to come from Dhaka to Guwahati. The 450-mile distance
between Goalpara and Sadiya, the two ends of the Brahmaputra Valley,
could be made, according to Butler in thirtyfour days by a budgerow of
Bengal. 'At present the ordinary time taken by a country boat of 1,000
maunds' burden from Calcutta to Dibrugarh' wrote Major Vetch in
1853 'is as great as that of a voyage round the Cape to London by a
sailing vessel.14' These circumstances should not be lost sight of in
estimating the extent of the river-bome trade in medieval Assam. The
total length of Assam's navigable rivers, given by Imperial Gazetteer
(1885) as 3,711 miles for an area of some 24,000 square miles, has to
be interpreted in the above context
The Chapari belt

Topographically, the entire Brahmaputra valley may be broadly
divided lengthwise into three belts. In the middle lie the sandy alluvial
banks of the Brahmaputra and the shoals and islands therein. This
riverine belt known as the chapari area is heavily flooded during the
rains. Here, cultivaion involves annual slash-and-bum of the grass and

reed jungles before the commencement of ploughing. Crops raised on
such lands are highly uncertain because of frequent untimely floods.
Traditionally, chapari lands used to be put under two major crops,
early-maturing rice (ahu) and mustard, sometimes with the advantage of
double cropping.
There are on the Brahmaputra only a few naturally-protected
locations like the townships of Goalpara, Guwahati, Tezpur, Silghat
and Biswanath, where there are some scattered hills right on the bank
itself. Everywhere else the Brahmaputra flows between soft sandy
banks and overflows the country for several miles during the rains. So
the sandy belt is subject to constant change for a breadth of some six
miles or so on either side of the river. At places in the former district
of Goalpara, it may extend even up to twenty miles from bank to
bank. The nature of its frequently shifting channel can be gauged from
certain recorded observations. Before 1790 the Brahmaputra used to
flow down a channel—now unimportant—north of the Majuli island.
At that time, the Dihing used to pass through the former's present
channel. Comparing a map of 1790 with one of about 1860, Colonel
Shakespeare further came to the tentative conclusion that the
Brahmaputra's course below Guwahati had shifted about fifty miles
southwards within this period.15 It is also probable that the
Brahmaputra and the Lohit rivers were in the remote past flowing
much closer to the Abor and Mishmi Hills than today. The
preponderance of chapari lands in the Barpeta district of today appears
to corroborate Shakespeare's contention. The parganah of Barpeta was
so low that the village sites there, observed E.T. Dalton, were
artificially raised 'and in the rains the whole country presents the
appearance of a vast lake!16 Presumably the valley was not free from
such ravages of the Brahmaputra in medieval times. The spread of
civilization in the valley was subject to the constant pressure of these
ravages.
It is because of this changeful course of the river that the chapari
belt remained long under shifting cultivation. Till the beginning of our
century it was devoid of habitation, barring isolated pam bastis or
temporary settlements of seasonal migrants who used to grow mustard,
pulses and ahu rice. Apparently, medieval villages and towns were not
founded close to the Brahmaputra except at the few naturally-protected
sites, as mentioned above. The early nineteenth century administrative
reports of British Assam note that for a distance of about two hundred
miles below Sadiya, there was not a single river-side town or
important village on the Brahmaputra.
The Rupit belt

Away from the sandy belt, the alluvium is more consolidated and
mostly consists of clay. This is the rupit belt which stretches on either
side of the chapari belt and it includes the most fertile strips of the
valley. It is there that the low, flat fields of late-maturing transplanted
paddy, interspersed with slightly elevated permanent village and garden
sites as well as occasional mounds, are concentrated. The word rupit
actually means 'transplanted'. The rainy season floods all these rice
fields to the depth of a few inches every year. Besides abundant direct
rainfall (75 to 150 inches), they also receive the annual spill-over of
the Brahmaputra and its tributaries. However, the former's fertilizing
influence should not be exaggerated. What is deposited is mostly sand,
while the rich silt is carried off to the plains of Bangladesh. It is not so
with the tributaries which are often tapped for gravitational irrigation.
The whole rice plain turns into a luxuriant greenery that begins to dry
up after September, and the ground is already hard by late December. It
was in the rupit belt that the plough-using people had, in aU
probability, their earliest permanent settlements. These low-lying flat
lands were thickly forested under natural conditions. But the settlers had
an abundant supply of iron implements and iron-tipped heavy ploughs
to uproot the jungles. However, the clayey soil and a rainfall of 75 to
150 inches combined to foster thick unmixed forests of Sal, Nahar,
Holong and other gregarious trees in many pockets, so that the task
proved difficult even for them. Many such tracts in Goalpara,
Lakhimpur and Cachar were obviously bypassed. People with inferior
implements preferred as their habitat either the chapari belt (as did the
Miri tribe which began to come down to the plains in the 13th-15th
centuries) or the submontane belt (as in the case of the Bodo-Kachari
tribes). In both cases, the scrubby and bushy grass jungles suited their
slash and bum farming methods.
The Submontane belt (Dooars)

The submontane belt skirts around the heart of the valley all along
the foothills. This belt of undulating and, at places, slightly elevated
plains is under scrubby forests and high grass savannahs. In most
places the belt receives a heavy annual rainfall of some 80 to 120
inches. The only exceptions to this are the contiguous narrow valleys
of the Kopili, the Jamuna and the Dhansiri. In these parts the rainfall
is roughly in the range of 45 to 60 inches. Numerous hill streams with
their shallow and shifting channels make artificial irrigation an easy
proposition. Bodo-Kachari tribes made use of this opportunity in the

past, as they still do.
Weeding is as much difficult in the submontane as on chapari
lands. Weeds grow so fast and require so much effort for their
suppression that it is more economic to burn and plant fresh virgin
plots than continue' cultivation on the same old plots. Thus, here too,
a system of shifting cultivation with or without plough prevailed till
recently. Undulating or sloping plains allow easy running off of water.
So, the cultivation of transplanted wet rice here is somewhat limited,
and the dry crops tend to predominate. Dry lands however can be
levelled and turned into wet rice lands.
It is this belt and the adjacent low hills which for centuries
remained the habitat of the migratory Bodo-Kachari and allied people of
the Tibeto-Burman linguistic group. Their methods of shifting hoe
cultivation survived as late as the nineteenth century, as we know from
Buchanan-Hamilton (1807-14), Fisher (1833), Hodgson (1847) and
Dalton (1872).17 However, in low-lying lands, as a result of closer
contacts with the setded population, they had adopted both the plough
and wet rice (sali) quite early. But even there they had little attachment
to their villages as they lacked in orchard cultivation. Jenkins (1851)
praised them as efficient cultivators, but at the same time noted their
unsettled habits.18 It is not possible to say when exactly the transition
to plough cultivation began amongst them. There is an oblique
reference in an old Assamese chronicle to the damming of a hill-stream
of Upper Assam by a cattle-owning Bodo-Kachari tribe of the
thirteenth century.19 This might suggest artificial irrigation as early as
that date, but does not positively confirm plough cultivation as such.
Domestic cattle were probably used only as a source of meat and not
for drawing the plough. An analogous example may be given from
recent times. The Meches, a Bodo-Kachari tribe of Jalpaiguri district
bordering Assam, 'go in for artificial irrigation in a surprisng manner,
and I have noticed their water channels more than a mile long', wrote
Colonel Money, the Deputy Commissioner in 1875. But at the same
time, he pointed o u t:
The Mechei find the proximity of permanent cultivation not to be congenial to their
own habiu.......I have of late observed that Mechei are using plough« much more
freely than they used to do, and also that in many places they employ Rajbansii to
plough for them.20
In 1875, then, the Meches were going through a process of learning

the use of the plough from their more advanced neighbours, the
Rajbansis. This happened despite their being experts in artificial

irrigation.
People of the rupit belt had also interests in the two other belts of
apparently waste lands lying within their reach. They collected all sorts
of materials for making their houses, boats, implements, mats and
baskets, from these tracts. At selected spots on these tracts, often
several miles away from their settled villages, peasants would erect
their temporary clusters of huts known as pam basti, to carry on
shifting cultivation of mustard, pulses and ahu rice. This type
of cultivation was more prevalent in the old district of'Kamrup than
elsewhere. The pressure of population on the rupit belt of north
Kamrup led peasants of all categories to resort to this practice,
irrespective of their tribe and caste. Butler has described how this form
of agriculture in the former Barpeta Subdivision in 1847 differed very
little from what is known asjh u m in g except for the use of the
plough.21 During the early years of British administration, individual
holdings for shifting cultivation on the common wastelands could not
be settled otherwise than on annual leases despite the authorities' bias
for permanent or periodic rights in soil. Today one misses the scene of
burning grass jungles as described by Butler. For the settled areas in
the chapari belt of the same subdivision of Barpeta underwent a 700
percent increase during the years 1911-30 as a result of largescale
immigration from East Bengal.22
Side by side there also existed intensive cultivation of wet paddy
and manured garden crops in Assam even prior to the thirteenth
century. The mass of agricultural knowledge codified into the 'Sayings
of Dak' is a common oral tradition shared between Lower Assam and
Bengal and certainly pre-dates the Tai-Ahoms.23
In the diet of the valley people rice played a more important role
than in the hills. Wheat was rare. A wide variety of edible greens as
well as milk, fish, and meat when available, supplemented the rice
diet. Apart from expensive rock salt and Bengal salt, an alkali
substitute was also universally prepared from the ash of burnt water-
herbs and barks of plaintain trees. Vegetable oil of any kind, hardly
used by the hill tribals, was used in scant quantities in the plains.
Bullock-drawn oil presses and oilmen’s castes were rare. Oil from
mustard seeds used to be extracted in every house with the help of a
short stone-loaded beam. Cultivation of sugarcane and manufacture of
gur, though widespread, was more concentrated in the then districts of
Kamrup, Sibsagar and Lakhimpur. At the beginning of this century the
two districts of Sibsagar and Lakhimpur were, between them, growing
sixtytwo per cent of the total sugarcane production of the Brahmaputra

valley.24
T h e E c o n o m y o f t h e P l a in s : A S ec o n d L o o k
From another angle, the Brahmaputra valley may be divided into

two sub-regions—Upper Assam and Lower Assam.25 Historically,
these two sub-regions had undergone dissimilar conditions. The
western part of Lower Assam was never under the political control of
the Tai-Ahoms. It constituted a part of the Mughal territory since the
seventeenth century and after 1765, of British India. The remaining
parts of Lower Assam were under the direct or indirect rule of the
Mughals for several decades in the seventeenth century. It was in
Lower Assam and north Bengal that the Koch (Rajbansi) tribe, too
obviously of Bodo-Kachari origin, established their rule at the start of
the sixteenth century. The Koch power was at its height when in 1562
the Tai-Ahom capital at Garhgaon was sacked by its army. Thereafter
the Koch Kingdom was gradually encroached upon from the west by
the Mughals and from the east by the Tai-Ahoms. As common heirs to
the ancient Kamarupa, north Bengal as well as Assam shared not
only a common history, but also a nearly common script and language
through the medieval times.
Lower Assam merges into the flora of the Upper Gangetic plains
while Upper Assam is dominated by Southeast Asian flora. The
differences in the natural vegetation as well as in the ethnic
composition of these two sub-regions have become somewhat blurred
through centuries of intermingling. They were presumably more
pronounced in the past than they are today. Households in Upper
Assam chiefly produce sali rice, but also such crops as sugarcane,
pulse, oilseeds as well as ahu rice. Tea jungles used to grow there in
wild state before 1840. Pre-monsoon rainfall of ten to fifteen inches
and monsoon rainfall of fifty to seventy inches are ideal for rice; hence
it is abundantly grown all over Assam, as also in Tripura and Manipur.
In Lower Assam, both wet and dry rice, mustard, sugarcane and pulses
grow. Potato and tea were introduced during the early British period.
Jute, which is now important as a commercial crop, was, like
indigenous rhea (urtica nivea linn.), a marginal garden produce in pre-
British days. Poppy cultivation, unknown earlier, attained its ruinous
importance only during the years 1770-1860. Its cultivation was
prohibited thereafter. The early arrival of tobacco in Assam—the

Portuguese brought it to India in 1508—is to be noted. A local
chronicle of the seventeenth century mentions a Bengal merchant
dealing in tobacco leaves (dhuapat) near Singri in central Assam in
violation of the ban on the entry of foreign traders into the Tai-Ahom
territory. His boats were confiscated and the tobacco leaves—but not
the mustard seeds and pulses purchased—were forwarded to the capital
for royal perusal. This decision to send only the tobacco leaves to the
exclusion of the other confiscated goods, suggests its being a curio in
Upper Assam in early seventeenth century.26 Both Welsh (1794) and
Robinson (1841) later mentioned the existence of tobacco cultivation
all over Assam.27 Throughout the medieval times areca nuts, pepper
and cotton were important items of cultivation. Cultivation of indigo
on a limited scale is traceable from the eighteenth century. Fishing
communities cultivated rhea (rihalkankhura) as source of fibre for
making their fishing nets and ropes.
The Barak Valley

The Barak valley, approximately 3000 square miles, comprises
alluvial level stretches except where broken up by isolated hillocks and
low ranges of hills which project from the surrounding mountains. The
chief river is the Barak which is from 100 to 200 yards in width and, in
places, over seventy feet deep. It is liable to overflow its banks during
the monsoons, but does not shift its course. Consequently there are no
chapari lands in these plains. The annual rainfall averages 130 inches
or so, and is liable to create floods from June to October. Despite some
differences in land formation and climate, these plains closely follow
the broad pattern of the Upper Brahmaputra valley. The whole area
remained thickly forested until it attracted considerable migration from
Assam and Sylhet plains during the eighteenth century. Ivory, wax,
cane, bamboo and timber were the exports from this area to Bengal.28
In fact vast tracts of land must have remained waste in the
Brahmaputra valley throughout the medieval times. The 13th century
Tai-Ahom conqueror is reported to have noted that "the country around
Dihing was uncultivated and wild.29 Shihabuddin Talish, the author of
Fathiya-i-ibriya (1663), also observed that there was a greater tract of
uncultivated lands on the south of the Brahmaputra than on its north.30
Obviously, by north he meant the present districts of Barpeta and
Nalbari and adjoining areas through which the Mughal army had
passed. In fact, the trans-Dihing forests continued in existence down to

the early years of the British rule. But at that time, Assam's population
was at its lowest level (less than a million) and forests and wastelands
in every district outstripped cultivation. Some relevant available data
consisting of an estimated percentage of the total area under cultivation
in 1874-75, the density of population per square mile in 1872 and the
estimated numb«' of persons maintained per square mile of cultivation,
as of 1853, for each district, are given in Table 12. However, in the
mid-17th century, the agriculture of Assam appeared to be in a far more
flourishing condition with a considerably smaller area being occupied
by forests and wastelands.
TABLE 1.2
Select Data on Extent o f Cultivation and Population Density
District Percentage of Density per No.of persons

area wider sq. mile of per sq. mile of
cultivation total area cultivated area
(1874-75) (1872) (1853)
Goalptra 500 98 209

Cachar 200 99 nil.
Kamiup 19*9 146 690
Sibsagar 17*5 102 623
Nowgong 103 79 874
Darrang 9*5 69 535
Lakhimpur 4*2 29 637
SOURCElAdministrative Report, Assam, 1874-75 [39]; Census of India, Assam Report,

1901, [104], p. 10; "Statistics of Assam-July 1853" in Butler, Travels and
Adventures [133], p. 268.
Note : These early data related to cultivation are not beyond doubt. The above-
mentioned old districts were reorganized recently. Now they number almost
two dozen.
Nevertheless, large-scale fluctuations from time to time in the
amount of cultivated area within a district must have been a general
feature also in the past, because of frequent ravages of rivers, warfare

and consequent population movements.
What could be the population of Assam proper at the height of its
prosperity during the first half of the eighteenth century ? One can only
conjecture. Gunabhiram Barua's estimate of 2.4 million before 1769
appears to be plausible.31 The population came down to less than one
million by 1830 because of the civil wars (1769-1806) and the
Burmese invasion of 1817-24 and also because of the ruinous effects of
opium on the people. It was restored to its former size only by the
eighteen seventies, partly through natural growth and partly through
immigration.
C o m p o s it io n o f t h e P o p u l a t io n : T h e B r a h m a pu t r a V a lley
The traditional pattern of population distribution was considerably

affected by large-scale immigration since 1901. On the other hand, the
first census of 1872 was imperfect and incomplete in many respects.
Hence an attempt will be made to comprehend the ethnic and caste
composition of the medieval population on the basis of the census data
of 1881.
The Brahmaputra valley had a population of 2,249,185 persons in
1881. Of this, an estimated 3 lakhs w oe of recent immigrant origin or
immigrants themselves. The rest were indigenous. Muslims (208,431)
constituted 9*3 per cent of the whole valley population, but as much as
a quarter of the population in the then Goalpara district. The
population strength of important plains tribes and Hindu castes are
given in Table 1.3. A scrutiny of the Table suggests that almost one-
half of the indigenous valley population was composed of non-Hindu
and such tribes as had been converted into Hinduism in the preceding
two centuries or so.
The Kalitas, more than half of whom were concentrated in the
former district of Kamrup, numbered 241, 589 in 1881. They are
regarded as a high caste and ranked next to the Brahmans (68,784),
Daivajnas (17390) and Kayasthas. They are an agricultural community
who are generally believed to have entered Assam from the west.
According to Dalton, they were the earliest Indo-Aryan colonists of
TABLE 1.3
Population o f Major Castes and Tribes: Brahmaputra Valley (1881)
(Total Population of the Valley: 2,249,185 persons)
I Bodo-Kachan Tribes uninfluenced by Hinduism

Kachan 265.418
Mech 57,885
Lahxng 46,077
Hajong 3.689
Gaio (plains) 23,373
II Bodo-Kachari Tribes in the procès* of conversion
Rabha 56,285
Madahi 13,149
Mahalia 6,198
Sarania 4,718
Totila 2,539
m Castes formed of converted Bodo-Kacharis
and allied tribes
Borahi (extinct)
Moran (not reported)
Chutiya 59,163
Rajbansi/Koch 336,739
Total Bodo-Kachari Elements 875,233

IV Miri (Mishing) Tribe 25,636
V Hindu Castes
Kalita 241,589
Ahom (Tai-Ahom) 179,283
Kaivaita 105,317
Dom (Nadial) 96,779
Katani and Jugi 81,931
Brahman 68,784
Ganak (Daivajna) 17,390 •
791,073
VI Muslim 208,431
»
SOURCE.: Assam Census Report, 1981 (104) pp. 22-34 and 63-102
Assam. Whatever be their racial origin, they appear to have always

been associated with plough cultivation, so far as knowledge goes. The
'Calita caste has some functional subdivisions within itself. These
subdivisions, Mali (gardener), Kamar (blacksmith), Tanti (weaver),
Sonari (goldsmith), Kumar (potter), Napit (barber) and Nat (dancer-
acrobat) etc., together grouped as Sarukalita, are said to be debarred
from the privilege of close intercourse with the Barkalitas (high

Kalitas). In Sibsagar, a section of the Kalitas are functionally Naotalia
(boat-makers).32 In practice, the functional subdivisions had never been
very rigid. Here, incidentally, it may be noted that the Kalita-Kumars
have been associated with the use of the potter's wheel, while the
potters of the Hira caste did not know its use at any time. The Hiras do
not use any furnace either, but bum their pots on the open surface.
Hira women fashion the pots, while their menfolk bring the clay and
sell the products.
The Koches or Rajbansis (336,739) were originally a tribe of north
Bengal and Lower Assam. They were given a Hindu caste status by the
sixteenth century. Later it was found in Assam proper that this caste
status was open to all new converts to Hindusim from various tribes.
To become a Koch meant more than mere religious conversion. It
meant the adoption of the plough in place of the hoe, of the mud-
plinth dwelling in place of the pile-house dwelling, and of cremation of
the dead instead of burial. It also meant the gradual abandonment of
pig-rearing, abstinence from liquor and the adoption of a Sanskrit-based
neighbouring language in preference to their own tribal tongue. The
conversion had some indirect economic impact as well. Absence of
pigs around one's homestead proved beneficial for garden culture, which
again encouraged settled habits. But the growing prejudice against rice-
beer was perhaps one of the indirect contributory causes of the
Assamese lust for opium in a later period. A tribal could progressively
realize the caste status of a Koch through stages. "We do know for
certain," wrote E.P. Stack "that a process of this kind goes on among
the converted Bodo, who first become Sarania, Madahi or Totila, and
then develop into Koch."33 It has been noted that in north Bengal and
the adjoining districts of Lower Assam, an entire tribe was transformed
into the new Hindu caste of Koch. Now, as this status was open to all
neo-converts in Assam proper, the former preferred to be called
Rajbansi, instead of Koch.
Of the Koch who retain their proper names three divisions are
recognised in Lower Assam. These are:
i) Kamtali who abstain both from liquor and pork ;
ii) Haramia who abstain from liquor only ;
iii) Madahi who are Hindus but take liquor.
The process of the promotion of Bodo-Kachari, Lalung, Mikir
(Karbi) and other plains tribals up the ladder of Sanskritisation had
been continuous. Yet the small twelve per cent rate of increase in the
population of the Koch caste between 1872 and 1881 is somewhat
puzzling. It may be safely assumed that a number of Koches specially
in the eastern districts, did return themselves as belonging to some

higher caste, such as Kalita or KeoL34
The Keot or Kaivarta (105,317) is another agricultural caste, as
distinguished from Jaloa Keot (Pani-Kaivarta) which is a fishing caste.
Another fishermen's caste is designated generally as Nadial (or Dom)
(96,779). The Hari (Brittial) caste was assigned the sweeper's duties by
the Tai-Ahom rulers. Later, they converted themselves into
goldsmiths. It is the Nadial, Hari, Hira and a few other untouchable
castes which were put at the lowest end of the social scale. Yet another
important caste is that of the Nath-panthi Jugi or Katani community
(81,931). Although weaving and spinning were universal with
medieval Assamese households, the spinning of the Pat (mulberry)
variety of silk yarn was an exclusive function of this caste. Hindus
though they were, the custom of burying the dead in preference to
cremation survived among them.
The Chutiyas (59,173) are another tribe converted gradually into
Hinduism. Originally a hill tribe, they had setded down in Lakhimpur
by the thirteenth century and had established a local kingdom. They
were conquered and later absorbed to a considerable extent by the Tai-
Ahoms. Despite this, they have survived as a separate Hindu caste. In
1911, sixtyfive per cent of the Chutiyas were enumerated in old
Sibsagar and twentytwo per cent in old Lakhimpur district. Their
original language, now almost dead, is believed to have been close to
the Bodo-Kachari language.
The Tai-Ahoms settled down in Upper Assam as migrants from
Upper Burma in the thirteenth century. They belong to the Tai or Shan
race which extends in scattered pockets from Assam to Tongking and
southwards to Bangkok and Cambodia. They had their own written
language which, although now dead, is still cultivated by a handful of
their erstwhile priests. The original Tai-Ahom settlers liberally
absorbed Chutiya, Moran and Borahi tribes into their fold, and after
some three hundred years of separate identity adopted Hinduism and the
Assamese language by the seventeenth century. They also adopted the
mud-plinth dwelling and the practice of cremation. Since then they
have been recognized as a Hindu caste in Assam. Although dominant
politically, they were not regarded as a high caste. During the
nineteenth century, their number increased from 128,980 in 1872 to
179,283 in 1881 and to 153,211 in 1901. More than ninety-four per
cent of them are found in Upper Assam. Although they ruled over
Assam for more than 600 years, they constituted hardly ten per cent of
the total population in their dominion at any time. Later migrants of
Tai race—Khamtis and Shans—were Buddhist by faith and numbered
3,158 in 1881. The Chutiya, Moran and Thengal-Kachari communities

came so much under Tai-Ahom influence that many of them described
themselves as Ahoms before the Census enumerators.
From Table 1.3 it would appear that more than one-third of the
population of the Brahmaputra valley are ethnically of Bodo-Kachari
origin. If we keep in view the process of conversion completed in the
remote past and also the fact that some of the Muslims must have been
converts from the Bodo-Kachari stock, we cannot but conclude that the
Bodo-Kachari element in medieval Assamese society was much more
prominent than what the census of 1881 suggests. By the term ’Bodo-
Kachari' is meant all such allied tribes as Boro, Kachari, Mech, Rabha,
Dimasa, Hojai, Hajong, Lalung, Tiprah and Garo, scattered over
different parts of northeast India. It is not unlikely that the Chutiyas
and the Morans are also of Bodo-Kachari origin. The Bodo-Kachans and
other tribes of Tibeto-Burman linguistic group, the Miris (Mishing)
and the Mikirs (Karbi) of the plains, were learning the use of the
plough from settled populations in course of the centuries. Before we
close this account we may refer the reader to Table 1.4 at the end,
which gives a detailed caste classification of households in Nowgong
district for 1850-51.
The indigenous caste structure of Assam does not reflect the
existence of any trading caste of significance.Such castes are
conspicuously absent in Upper Assam. But in Lower Assam there is a
small trading community, now called Vaishya-Saud (Sunri), a
counterpart of the Saha caste of Bengal. They have been carrying on
trade from the remote past Chand Sadagar of medieval folklore is said
to have belonged to this caste. Besides, the Kalita craftsmen of
Kamrup, silk-weavers and bell-metal artisans, used to sell their
specialized products as itinerant traders all over Assam. People of
Barpeta were described as vigorous traders by the early nineteenth
century British administrators. Their boats, laden with surplus mustard-
seeds of Assam, used to ply even on Bengal rivers. The folk literature
of the sixteenth century referring to the trading activities of boat-
owning sauds is as much a living tradition with Lower Assam as with
Bengal. This suggests the existence of river-borne trade between Lower
Assam and other areas during medieval times. Merchandise carried by
outgoing boats, according to literary sources, comprised black pepper,
long pepper, ginger, cumin seeds, mustard seeds, coriander seeds,
incense etc.35 Muslim merchants in the Mughal period were very
much interested in the aloe-wood (agar) of Assam.
About trade in the Ahom period, Shihabuddin Talish (1663)
writes: 36
Formerly once a year, by order of the Raja, a party used to go for trade to their
frontier near Gauhati; they have gold, musk, aloe wood, pepper, spikenard and silk-
cloth in exchange of salt, saltpetre, sulphur and certain other products.
Assamese traders (mudai) went as far as Dhaka and other places with
their boats. Trading activities were not the monopoly of any particular
caste. Some Assamese merchants of the eighteenth century—such as
Sibram Vairagi—were Brahman or Ganak (Daivajna) by caste. The
Bengal merchants also came with their large boats (petola nao) to
Assam.37 During the short-lived Mughal occupation of Lower and
Central Assam in the seventeenth century there was a Mughal outpost
in the village of Gorakuchi near Singri, which was interested in
facilitating trade with western Kameng and Bhutan. But war with the
Mughals forced the Tai-Ahom rulers to put an embargo on the entry of
foreign boats into Assam.
River-bome trade in Assam, however, could never be as important
as that along the Ganges, because of difficult navigation on the
Brahmaputra as noted above. Heavy rains and soft soils did not permit
the use of wheeled carts for carriage until the introduction of metalled
roads in the British period. Trade was further limited by the carrying
capacity of canoes on rivers and of pack animals (limitedly used) and
human carriers on land. Assam's balance of trade with the rest of India
seems to have been distinctly unfavourable. We get a fair idea of the
traditional river-borne exports and imports of medieval Assam, from
the figures recorded for 1808-9. The exports to Bengal included, in a
descending order of importance, raw cotton, lac, mustard seeds, muga
silk cloth, muga silk thread, elephant tusks, slaves, bell-metal
utensils, iron hoes, pepper and miscellaneous forest products—together
valued Sicca Rs. 130,900 only. Imports from Bengal, valued Sicca
Rs. 228,300, were mainly salt (84 per cent) and muslin (5 per cent);
the rest were various luxury items. In that year trade was, however, at a
very low level because of a prolonged civil war preceding the date.
Nevertheless, the list fairly indicates the composition of Assam's trade
with rest of India in late medieval times. In any case, it was by and
large limited by the extent of local demand for salt
T h e M a in S o c io - E c o n o m ic F ea t u r e s o f
A ss a m ' s M e d ie v a l S o c iety
What has gone before is an attempt to weave together signifies

geographical and historical phenomena and arrive at a genei.
THE GEOGRAPHY BEHIND'THE HISTORY 23
framework of the socio-economic history of medieval Assam. The

main conclusions that emerge from this attempt are as follows.
Medieval Assam, being relatively isolated from the rest of India, had
a peculiar socio-economic pattern of its own. The economy of its
plains was very much integrated with that of the hills. Raw cotton,
forest products, oranges, rock salt and iron from the hills were bartered
for rice, dried fish, silk and cotton cloth from the plains. This
symbiotic relationship was maintained through a chain of foothill
marts and fairs where both sides m et This trade between the plains and
the hills appears to have been no less important than what passed
between the Assam plains and the rest of India, because of the limited
scope of navigation on the Brahmaputra.This conclusion is drawn
despite the fact that manual transport across the hills had greater
limitations which, however, were overcome by the mass participation
of the tribes in the transportation of the goods bartered. The total
volume of trade, internal and external, was small ; so was the
population as well as the total domestic produce of the region. What is
to be noted is that the region's economy was far from what could be
called entirely self-sufficient
Assam could not offer enough goods to match the value of her
demand for salt from Bengal. Hence there was an outflow of gold
(collected from river sand) and also of slaves. The poorer sections of
the population, and the better-off ones also in a considerable measure,
used a preparation of the ash of burnt water-weeds or barks of plantain
trees as a substitute for salt This consumption habit has survived till
our days. Similarly, the low consumption of vegetable oil freed a
considerable quantity of mustard seeds for export to Bengal. This
contrasts with the present shortage of mustard seeds in the state
because of the change in the population composition and the
consumption pattern.
Technologically, the Assam plains remained far behind the rest of
India. Population scarcity, land abundance, and continuous migration
from the hills to the plains—all combined to slow down the transition
from shifting hoe cultivation to permanent plough cultivation not only
in the hills but also in the plains. Even the plough cultivation was of
a shifting nature over large areas of the submontane and riverine belts
of the plains. Neither heavy ploughs drawn by several bullocks nor
seed-drills were ever in use in this part of India. Rather, ploughshares
made out of roots of areca-nut trees or bamboo often replaced the iron
share in the local ploughs. The use of iron, bricks and wheeled carts
was extremely limited although they were Imowr
24 MEDIEVAL AND EARWPeODONIAL ASSAM
Even the potter’s wheel was not universally used by the potters.
Neither the construction of residential houses nor the building of boats
made any mentionable use of iron. Only dug-out canoes without sails
were generally made and used in the Brahmaputra valley. With some
five men on each boat, they could be rowed with paddles or pushed
along with bamboo poles at the rate of 8 to 10 miles a day, when other
boats made little progress during the rains . The use of water mills for
milling or grinding grain in some pockets of Arunachal was never
imitated elsewhere in the region.
Specialization on caste lines did not go far in medieval Assamese
society. Weaving and spinning were universal with all Assamese
women irrespective of caste and status, thus limiting the scope of
professional weavers. Extraction of mustard oil and gur was carried on
in individual households. However, there was specialization in the
making of bell-metal and brass utensils, earthenwares, ornaments and a
few other articles. In these crafts, a certain degree of perfection was
reached. Since the sixteenth century, the manufacture of newly-
introduced guns and gun powder had been organized by the state on a
high level of skill which contrasted with the general backwardness of
the technology.
Until the thirteenth century Upper Assam appears to have been
thinly populated, because of poorer cultivation of the soil. Wet rice
cultivation increased rapidly in this region under the Tai-Ahoms. A
better supply of food led to a rapid increase of population and further
extension of settled cultivation. This along with their superiority in
weapons, enabled the Tai-Ahoms to carry on their expansionist wars
against the Chutíyas and the Kacharis and to build up a strong state.
Hundreds of miles of embankment-cum-roads were built by them
primarily in the interest of extending wet rice cultivation.
The rice economy of the Brahmaputra valley was capable of
producing a considerable surplus. But as difficulties of export came in
the way, production was limited by the absence of a local market This
curb on the potentialities forced the Assamese peasants to find an
alternative use of their land and labour in the cultivation of poppy, a
new crop, during 1770-1860, for local consumption. This totally
ruined the people and stagnated the economy for many years to come.
The process of Sanskritization, going on slowly for centuries,
gathered momentum during the period of the liberal Vaishnava
movement under the guidance of Shankardev (1449-1568), Madhavdev
(1489-1596), Gopaldev (1541-1611), Aniruddhadev (1553-1624) and

others. The mass conversion of the Bodo-Kachari tribes and Tai-Ahoms
to Hinduism from the sixteenth century onwards coincided with this
movement Thus it generated a politico-religious upheaval amongst the
people of the Moran tribe and also other socially lower castes who
allied with the former all over the valley. United under the banner of a
particular sect of Vaishnavism following the school of Aniruddhadeva,
they fought against the Tai-Ahom ruling dynasty. A series of
devastating civil wars (1769-1806) remained undecided and brought in
its wake depopulation, disorder and all-tound decadence. This turned
Assam into a labour-short economy.
Medieval Assam had what was essentially a barter economy. Local
coinage on a limited scale, however, started from the sixteenth century.
Land revenue was paid in labour as a general rule, and in produce or
money in special cases. Officials received a portion of the contributed
labour in lieu of salaries. This state system38 could be worked
smoothly for some five centuries or so because of the essentially tribal
basis of the society itself; but from the middle of the eighteenth
century it was facing a crisis.
The most important towns had no more than a few thousand
inhabitants in the medieval times ; and agricultural and waste lands
encroached upon them on all sides. In no period did Assam have large
nucleated villages. It had mostly a hamlet type of settlement scattered
over the agricultural fields in an elongated, linear fashion along banks
of tributaries of the Brahmaputra. The absence of big urban centres
thus distinguishes the economic history of medieval Assam from that
of medieval northern India.
If we keep in mind this geographic environment and the ethnic
composition of the people and try to read history backwards from the
known recent past to the unknown, as Marc Bloch has done in his
French Rural History, or D.D. Kosambi in course of his life-long
research, many gaps in our knowledge of the region's economic past
may be profitably filled up, despite the paucity of factual data for a
decisive interpretation.
TABLE 1.4
Distribution o f Households by Caste : Nowgong District 1850-51*
Caste-Group No. of Households As % of total

Households
(43,795) (100)
Koch 8,532 19.5

Plains tribals
(mainly Bodo-Kachari) 7,877 17.9
Chutiya 1,458 3.6
Ahom and Shan
(Tai-Ahom) 1,877 4.3
Kalita 5,458 12.5
Keot 3,735 8.5
Brahman 1,475 3.4
Ganak (Daivajna) 126 0.3
Bona 1,751 4.0
Jugi 2317 5.3
Dom (Nadial) 3,381 7.7
Chandal 1,133 2.6
Han 194 0.4
Nat 209 0.5
Muslim 2,016 4.6
Moria (Muslim)
brass utensil makers) 313 0.7
Kamar 125
Kansan 31 1.2
Kumar 384
Patia (Mat-makers) 360 0.8
Lonaree (Salt-makers) 111 0.3
Miscellaneous 1.9
♦ The analysis here coven only nine mahals of the district —Nowgong, Koliabar,
Mikirpur, Chaporce, Raha, Jamunamukh, Moning, Lakhiraj and Dantipur.
SOURCE : Butler, 1854 [133], Appendix H, pp 266-7. We have presented the dau in an
abridged form.
Notes
1. Bulletin de l'Ecole Française de’Extreme, Orient (1904X pp. 142 ff. cited by Barua, A
Cultural History Assam, [123], llOn ; also Leach, Political Systems o f Highland
Burma [168], 238.
2. Yule, JASB, pt2 . V ol.ll [100], 853.
3. The culture of shouldered stone hoes has been studied by Dani, Prehistory and
Protohistory o f Eastern India [141].
4. Chatteijee, The Place o f Assam in the History and Civilisation o f India [134], 35.
5. See the tabulated estimate by Hodgson for a Bodo peasant family in his paper in
JASB, V0L I 8 [95], 740.
Owing to an increasing population, the jhum cycle tends to shorten over time.
Obviously, the shorter the cycle the less is the productivity.
6. Quote from Ashley Eden's Report (1864) in Political Missions to Bootan [69], 122-
23.
7. Pemberton, The Report o f the Eastern Frontier o f British India [70], 220.
8. Quotes from Gurdon, The Khasis [162], 39-40. The only other hill tribes who were
equally manure-conscious were the Monpas of western Kameng and the Apatanis.
9. Mills, Report on the Khasia and Jaintia Hills 1853 [67], 4 and Allen, Report on the
Admn. ofCossyah and Jaintiah Hill Territory [68], 30.
10. Letter from G. Lamb, Dhaka, 30 April 1828 in Foreign Secret Proc. [36], 14 Nov.,
1828, No.3.
11. Ibid;, Pemberton, [70], 75,214 and 219. Sylhet (Shrihatu) finds early mention in
several medieval sources.
12. In 1824, a major section of the people of many petty polities of the Khasi-Jaintia
Hills were reportedly found dependent for their livelihood on trading activities.
13. Elliot and Dowson, ed.. History o f India as Told by Its Own Historians, Vol, 2 [27],
311ff.
In early 19th century Pemberton, on his way from Dewangiri to Tasgong in Bhutan,
met several parties—about 400 persons in all—leading their asses laden with salt
towards Hajo. At Dewangiri, he had found that about 2,000 people from Tibet had
assembled for a trading-cum-pilgrimage mission to Hajo.—Pemberton's 'Report on
Bhutan' in Political Missions to Bootan [69], 77.
14. Anon, Calcutta Review, Vol. 21 [84], 394; Butler, Sketch o f Assam [132], 15;
MCosh, Topography o f Assam [177], 28. Quote from Vetch to Mills, 22 June 1853
in Mills, Report on the Province o f Assam [66], Appendix C.
The lofty boats, built with keels and rudders, which plied on the Ganges between
Calcutta and Patna, suited the Brahmaputra only in the rainy season and would not
suit its rapid and shallow tributaries. Generally, boats on the Brahmaputra used oars
rather than rudders. They had no keels, so necessary for sailing. They descended with
the stream and returned by the track rope.
15. Shakespeare, History o f Upper Assam [187], 5-6.
16. Dalton, JASB, Vol. 20 [90], 455-56.
17. Hodgson, Essay the First....... [82], 47, 154-56 and 180; Dalton, D escriptive
Ethnology o f B engali 139], 82; Fisher to Robertson on Dharampur, Cachar, 12
March 1833, Foreign Pol, Proc. [35], 6 June 1833, No. 107; Buchanan-Hamilton, An
Account o f Assam First Compiled in 1807-14. [38], 73.
IS. Jenkins to Board of Revenue,12 Nov., 1851, dengal Rev. Cons. [33], 31 Dec. 1851,
No. 44.
19. Banhgaria Buiha Gohainar Bunnjf in Deodhai Asam Buranji [12], 100.
20. Quoted in D.H.E. Sunders Settlement Report of 1895 in Appendix 4, Census of
India, 1951, District Handbooks-Jaipaiguri [105], CLXVL
21. Butler, Sketch o f Assam, [132], 21-23.
22. Report, Assam Prov, Banking Enquiry Committee, 1929-30 [65], 23.
23. According to Dak, the larger the number of dykes or ridges thrown across the field, the
better will the Sali crop be.
24. An Account c f the Province o f Assam and Its Administration, 1901-2 [40], 23
25 .The present districts of Goalpara, Dhubri, Kokrajhar, Bongaigaon, Barpeta, Guwahati,
Nalbari and Darrang constitute what is called Lower Assam. Hie rest of the valley is
known as Upper Assam. The present Sonitpur, Marigaon and Nowgong districts of
the latter region are together sometimes referred to as Central Assam.
26. Watt, The Commercial Products o f India [115], 796 and Deodhai Asam Buranji [12],
110.
27. Report by Welsh, Foreign Pol, Proc. [35], 24 Feb. 1794, No. 13A, Robinson, A
Descriptive Account o f Assam [183], 65-84.
28. Letter from Raja of Cachar received at Calcutta on 29 July 1797, Prachin Bangala
Patra Samkalan [81], 75.
29. Wade, An Account o f Assam [24], 17.
30. Talish, Fathiya-i'ibriya, 1663, tr. Sarkar, in JBORS VoL 1, [99], 179-94.
31. Bhuyan, Anglo-Assamese Relations [128], 1. Bhuyan revises the figure to 2.5
million.
32. Census of India, 1901, Assam Report [104], 133.
The attempted distinction between Baikalita and Sarukalita was never observed
strictly. Today, in any case, all the Kalitas together constitute an endogamous group;
most probably it was also so in earlier times, the tendency towards fission being a
passing phase.
33. Quote from Census of India, 1881, Assam Report [104], Ch. 6,66.
34. Ibid., 75.
35. Baiua, Studies in Early Assamese Literature [122], 17.
36. See Note 30 above.
37. Kamrupar Buranj, ed. Bhuyan, [13], 44.
2
The Historiographical Perspective
In northeast India we have a rich tradition of historical writing. Source

materials on regional history for ancient and medieval periods—
inscriptions, coins, sculptures, architectural ruins, chronicles and
literary sources—all have been and are still being probed by many
scholars. Standard secondary works apart, well-edited compilations of
source materials are also available now in handy publications. These
have considerably facilitated the future scholar's task. However, within
the last few years so much new material—coins, inscriptions, images
etc.—have been unearthed and so many new questions posed that there
is no scope for complacency. A lot more has to be done in the matter
of compilation of and systematic enquiry into the primary sources. For
instance, the Catalogue o f the Provincial Coin Cabinet which was last
revised in 1930 has now become totally outdated. So is the Descriptive
Catalogue o f Manuscripts prepared long ago by Hem Chandra
Goswami and printed at the Calcutta University Press.1 So far as
ancient and medieval inscriptions are concerned, we are however in a
more comfortable position, thanks to some recent publications brought
out by the University of Gauhati and the Asam Prakashan Parishad.2 It
is in the field of cataloguing the available old coins and manuscript
chronicles and the publication of such catalogues with all necessary
information regarding their physical condition and whereabouts that
Government action is called for to supplement private effort. The
Govemmentof Assam's resources in men and money should have been
better engaged in this particular sphere rather than in the preparation of
an 'official' political history. The search for and preservation of
historical documents and objects and the creation of an infrastructure in
the form of libraries, archives, museums and funding authorities should
have remained the primary and proper area of the state's direct interest
in'hisSonczdTessafch.
K ? ■'jea
This brings us to the question of relations between the existing

research bodies and the government. Historical research, if it is to be
carried on with scientific competence and in a single-minded way, needs
supporting funds from the public exchequer. Whether channelized
directly or through agencies, such funds are always welcome if they are
without strings. I have no knowledge of the situation in this region's
other states. In Assam, however, the state's performance on this
account does not appear satisfactory. The Kamrup Anusandhan Samity
(estd. 1912), the oldest body for historical research in this region,
continues to receive only a meagre grant-in-aid not worth mentioning
and is in a moribund condition today. The journal it once used to
publish is no longer brought out regularly. Associated with the
memories of eminent scholars like Padmanath Vidyavinod,
H.C.Goswami and K.L.Barua, this sick institution is today in need of
nursing and preservation. The government should come forward and, in
consultation with local historians and interested public bodies, find
ways and means to turn it once more into an active research body while
it continues to be autonomous as before.
It appears that in spite of being aware of its special responsibilities
towards the cause of historical research, the state government in Assam
was never able to formulate a long-term policy on the matter. Instead
of limiting its activities to the discovery and preservation of the
objects of antiquity and to the task of encouraging autonomous
scholarly bodies to take up creative research, it has always tried to
intrude into even the latter sphere through departmental action; and
that, too, haphazardly. Its still active Department of Historical and
Antiquarian Studies, a legacy of the British times, is poorly staffed,
though burdened with multifarious activities from the collection of
antiquarian objects to the publication of source materials, the running
of a research library and the routine drudgery of supplying answers to
questions raised on the floor of the Assam Legislative Assembly. The
result is that it has failed to live up to its past tradition.
Yet another venture of the government after independence was to
appoint a Special Officer with a separate establishment to collect
materials for writing a history of the freedom struggle in the region.
After wasting lakhs of rupees on the project during the nineteen fifties
and early sixties, the project was finally closed down. Later during the
Emergency a full-fledged department for preparation of the political
history of Assam was created in the Chief Minister's secretariat almost
overnight by a government notification dated 22 November 1975. The
said political history having been prepared and published in three
volumes by 1980, this department also was finally—and rightly—
THE HISTORIOGRAPHICAL PERSPECTIVE 31
wound up. This kind of state enterprise in historiography on an

emergency footing is probably unique in Indian experience.
The Government's interest in promoting history is surely
commendable, but not the drift and lack of direction in its relevant
policy. The Department of Historical and Antiquarian Studies, unlike
the aforesaid department, still maintains its existence. However, it is
obvious that it can no more serve a useful purpose in its present form.
It needs a total reorganization. Whatever antiquarian activities it is
associated with should belong to an appropriate department of
archaeology having a complete establishment of trained personnel. And
for historical studies the present directorate, together with the Narayani
Handiqui Institute, might be transformed into a full-fledged and
autonomous research body with necessary state and university support.
This suggestion, if accepted by the authorities concerned, I believe,
will go a long way in meeting the needs of scholars engaged in
historical research in this state.
I have kept my observations limited to what has been and what can
be done by the Government in Assam. In other States of the region the
nature of the problems and tasks is different Organizations which have
evolved or are yet to be evolved to promote historical research might
not follow a set pattern. But here too appropriate relationships between
government and autonomous bodies will have to be worked out
n
In our region of seven sister states one cannot but note a degree of
unevenness in the structuring of history of these states, particularly in
terms of the time dimension. Assam is a well-charted field of enquiry
with some relevant records going back to the fourth century, A.D. The
historiographical literature on Assam is rich with its neat periodization
into times ancient, medieval and modem. But this kind of neat
periodization breaks down the moment the historian enters the parts of
the region where literacy came rather too late. We have no knowledge
as to how the hill areas were peopled and how they fared in ancient
times.
It is only after the thirteenth century that Tripura, Manipur and
parts of Meghalaya begin to come within the reach of historiography,
but only on the basis of legends, some late chronicles and other written
records along with a few datable antiquarian objects. Consequently our
knowledge of how they fared in medieval times is also extremely
inadequate as compared to our knowledge of the Brahmaputra valley. In
fact, for most parts of our region the starting point of proper
historiography falls within what is conventionally called the modem

period of Indian history. It is then that, under British administration, a
plethora of written records describing these parts as well as the tribes
inhabiting them begin to appear, thus providing historians with some
solid stuff to start with. Under the circumstances, the conventional
periodization into times ancient, medieval and modem is hardly
meaningful in our region outside the plains of Assam. In
Meghalaya, Mizoram, Nagaland and Arunachal in particular and partly
also in Assam, Manipur and Tripura, pre-modem history as well as
much of so-called modem history has necessarily to be prehistory and
proto-history.
If this be so, then the historian of this region has to be largely
unconventional in his methodology as well. Here, more than any
where else, the methods of oral history have a significant role to play,
if we are to extend our present knowledge further backwards into past
history. The Vaishnava charita-puthis in Assamese that throw light on
the lives of Vaishnava saints and on many aspects of the then
Assamese society were nothing but oral history, carefully recorded
Airing the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Even today we could
illuminate, as the charita-puthi authors did, many aspects of Assamese
social development, on which extant records by themselves are silent,
by way of recording and analyzing what people still remember of their
past. For the hill areas the importance of such methods cannot be
overstated. To some extent we could rework local histories backwards
in these hill-tribal areas by way of collecting the geneological tables of
the oldest chiefs and magician-priests, as well as the folklore still
surviving amongst the tribes. This way some idea about their
migration patterns, their ways of life in precolonial times and their
interaction with the plaias-dwelling peoples could be formed. When did
they replace their neolithic tools by iron tools ? When and how did
they move from shifting jhum to permanent terrace cultivation and
from hoe to plough in those places where such phenomena exist ?
When and how was the firearm introduced and what was its impact on
social and political organization ? Why did rudimentary state
formations take place in certain tribal societies and not in others ?
Such are the questions that historians in collaboration with other social
scientists will have to answer.
Oral history might miscarry unless the historian possesses an acute
sense of the logic of historical development and is able to put what is
gleaned from folk memory in its proper place on the appropriate time-
scale of related-known events. Its methodology, involving the use of
interviews, questionnaires and tape-recordings etc., has greater risk of
being incompetently handled than the conventional methodology.

Public memory itself gets increasingly confused and blurred over time.
Hence more care and rigorous training are necessary to make oral
history fruitful. A beginning has already been made in this sphere by
individual scholars as well as the North-Eastern Hill University, and
we look forward to not only extensions of such research activities, but
also to the perfection of the methods and tools in use through adequate
academic measures at the university level.
Enlightened British administrators, some of whom were also trained
anthropologists, left behind systematic accounts of the tribes they
studied. But they did this spade work with their nineteenth century
imperialist outlook that had assumed an unchanging character for the
oriental societies in general, and the hills tribal societies in particular,
with a view to projecting the British rule as a legitimate agency of
progress. Each tribe used to be described in isolation from the other
tribes and from the world of the plains people. The resultant
monographs followed a set standard pattern in which the tribes were
depicted as so many fossilized segments of humanity, for whom trade
and contacts with settled communities had no mentionable impact.
These monographs also failed to see that the growing private property
rights in stocks of grain, livestock, orchards and terraced paddy lands
carried germs of a process of change within each tribe, however slow
that might have been. Evidences of the tribes having a history such as
the growth of link languages like 'Nagamese' and 'Arunamese'3, the
evolution of some chiefdoms into statehood and the spread of wet rice
cultivation and New World crops like tobacco, chilly and pineapple—all
before the coming of the British—were not given adequate attention.
The task before today’s oral historians is to dig up this history and
push it as far back in time as possible on a scientific basis.
Not the tribes as such, but some of their rituals and customs were
indeed ossified relics of the past, comparable to fossils. Data of social
anthropology on such relics, as those of historical and comparative
linguistics, are surely useful for reconstructing the past. Similarly
another sister discipline—archaeology—has also a special role in
extending the historical time horizon of our enquiry into the hills tribal
societies. Recently archaeology has made big strides in our region.
Systematic excavations in the Garo Hills and the North Cachar Hills
have added to our knowledge of the spread of the southeast Asian
neolithic culture in our hills and plains in more definitive terms than
before. A new vista for Indian pre-history has been opened up thereby.
However, also significant for the historian of this region are the
results of the excavations at Ambari, Itanagar and Malinithan that
throw a great deal of light on pre-thirteenth century Assamese

civilization.
Some day archaeology will be able to provide answers to some of
our questions posed in connection with the historiography of the hill
areas—say, for instance, the one regarding the introduction of iron in
the Khasi and Jaintia Hills. When the neolithic people entered Assam
from southeast Asia they did not possess any knowledge of iron. This
knowledge, together with that of cattle-powered plough and wet rice
was brought to Assam by the Indo-Aryans. In 1842 Lieutenant Yule
was so much impressed by the numerous and extensive traces of former
iron-mining sites in the Khasi Hills that he believed these to 'have
occupied the population for twenty centuries'.4 In the absence of
conclusive evidence, we simply do no know how and when the Khasis
took to iron-smelting and the manufacture and use of iron implements.
So far, the earliest evidence of iron manufactures of the Khasis comes
down to us from the late medieval Assamese chroniclers.
The typical shouldered iron hoe of the Khasis, which is still in use,
might not be as old as Yule might have thought it to be. But surely it
has a long history of development that could be traced from finds of
shouldered stone celts in the neolithic sites of northeast India. In this
connection, the excavations at the two Kamrup villagesof Sarutaru and
Marekdola bordering on the Khasi Hills, recently carried on by S.N.
Rao, throw some light.5 At Sarutaru, an undated neolithic site, seven
shouldered stone celts resembling present-day Khasi hoes were found
together with crude cord-marked pottery of the southeast Asian
neolithic types. At Marekdola, its adajacent post-neolithic site, only
one such stone celt was found together with fine Ambari-type pottery
and other objects which are definitely datable within the ninth-
thirteenth centuries (upper limit : 1292 A,D.) by a combination of
carbon-14 and other methods. The two sites, between them,
encapsulate the phase of technical progress of the shouldered hoe-using
Khasis—from crude pottery to the use of wheel-turned pottery made in
the plains, and as it appears, from stone hoes to iron hoes, though no
iron objects were found on the same site. The significant point is that
even so late as in the ninth to the thirteenth century period, the stone
hoe had not altogether vanished even from the submontane tracts that
were already in close contact with Ambari. The stone celt was still in
use, as Rao concludes, for its symbolic, if not for its functional value.
We may further conclude that, even if the Khasis had started entering
the iron-age a few centuries earlier, the use of the stone hoe must have
long persisted until its use was reduced to insignificance or to mere
symbolism by the thirteenth century.
In any case, once iron was in use, its abundant production led to
certain economic and political changes within the Khasi society. With
iron hoes the soil could be puddled into mud for wet rice cultivation
more efficiently. On the basis of an increased rice production for
consumption and a surplus iron output for trade with the surrounding
plains, the Khasi society moved to the stage of state formation by the
fifteenth century. From this time onwards we have a geneology of the
Jaintia kings. Thus we find that time and space, when out of reach of
our written records, could be probed by historians through a
combination of oral history methods with those of archaeology, social
anthropology and other disciplines.
The ancient history of the Assam plains could also be extended
backward beyond the the fifth or the fourth century A.D. The
Mahabharata and several Puranas that were rewritten between circa
second century B.C. and second century A.D., the Kalika-Purana of the
ninth tenth century A.D. and the copper plate Prashastis of the
Kamarupa kings—all contain elements of late-recorded oral history
related to Assam's early Indo-Aryan settlers who were the carriers of a
new civilization marked by iron, cattle, wet rice and the plough.
Iron technology discovered in western Asia around circa 1800 B.C.
reached India by 1000 B.C. and spread to Magadha by 600 B.C. It was
on the basis of an abundant supply of iron ore in its neighbourhood
that Magadha was transformed into a powerful state and empire. By
then the Magadhans were already a mixed people. The Indo-Aryan
newcomers intermingled with the Kiratas and other pre-Aryan
elements. When did large-scale settlement of these iron-using Indo-
Aryans take place in Assam then ? No late-recorded oral history can
settle this issue, if archaeology does not give some clue. It is the
considered opinion of scholars that the antiquity of Bhagadatta, as a
historical personage should not be taken as far back as the Bharata War
—tins probably took place around 900 B .C .-on the basis of a
simplistic reliance on later interpolations in the original Mahabharata.
Neither can we accept Bhaskara Varman's statement that his dynasty
had been ruling for three thousand years.6 His claim only points to the
fact that his dynasty's rule was quite old. The tradition represented by
Banasura, Naraka, Bhagadatta and Vajradatta related to the early phase
of the iron-using Indo-Aryan settlements east of the Karatoya.
That the Buddhist sources carried no reference to Kamarupa or to
Pragjyotishpura is significant7 This suggests that the Indo-Aryans had
not crossed over to Kamarupa before 500 B.C. Archaeologically we
only know that the iron age and the Maurya rule firmly reached the
banks of the Karatoya by 200 B.C. Bands of Indo-Aryan adventurers
from Magadha must have had crossed the Karatoya by then and moved
into the forested Brahmaputra valley in search of elephants, valuable
timber and virgin lands for settlement. The Arthashastra commentator's
(Bhattasvamin) suggestion that certain items of Magadhan trade
originated in Kamarupa (though not clearly mentioned by Kautilya to
that effect) appears valid in this context
The alluvial plains of Kamarupa remained until its Aryanization
thickly forested under the heavy rainfall conditions. Neolithic jhum
settlements, however sparse, were till then found only on banks of hill
streams and river-confluences, where land was cleared through the
natural process of erosion and annual flooding and where the raw
materials for a stone tool industry were available in plenty in the
vicinity. Their agriculture was characterized by slash-and-bum and land
rotation methods. The neolithic settlers' stone implements were not
however equal to the task of uprooting the deep forests for agriculture.
It was the newcomers equipped with shaft-hole iron axes and iron-
tipped traction ploughs who cleared such forests on an extensive scale
for permanent cultivation of wet rice, and they caused thereby a rapid
increase of population on the basis of a more abundant rice supply. It
was on this basis that the state or Janapada of Kamarupa emerged in
due course, thus enabling us to move in this region from proto-history
to history by the fourth century A.D.8 The Magadhi language emerged
in a slightly different form as the dominant language within this state.
So far I have discussed in some detail how the existing areas of

darkness in the history of the hills and plains of our region could be
lighted up in the absence or paucity of contemporary written
documents. The methodology has to be varied; and for the local
historian, oral history methodology will be rewarding at least for the
times conventionally styled as modern. Teachers and students of
history, placed as they are in the region's several states, could
effectively contribute to the writing of the history of their respective
localities and states. I hope, the university and college departments of
history would utilize their personnel in organized attempts at exploring
the history of the districts in their respective areas by way of oral
history methods and other means.
My current field of enquiry being the history of medieval Assam
under the Ahoms, I may be permitted to say a few words, not on any
new findings but about the problems I face in this field.
* •
• ■
The most important source material for me is, of course, the

buranjis., both published and unpublished. A complete printed
catalogue of such manuscript buranjis showing their places of
preservation and giving other ancillary information is long over-due.
True that most of the representative buranjis are now*available in well-
edited, published versions. Even so, a catalogue is still necessary so
that sceptical scholars could check the quality of the editing and
translation to eliminate biased distortions, if any. Such distortions,
even though not deliberate, áre possible since much of our buranji-
based research was motivated either by the requirements of an alien
administration or by the needs of a local patriotism, both liable to
lapses. -
Yet another difficulty we face is in the matter of identifying the
relative antiquities of the extant manuscripts. These have come down
to us in their present form through a process of time-to-time copying,
with the subject-matter undergoing abridgement, elaboration and
extension at the discretion of the copyist-cum-chroniclers in that
process. The extant manuscript copies belong to a period not earlier
than the seventeenth century, and some only to the early nineteenth.
Under the circumstances, it is high time that serious attempts are made
on the basis of a scrutiny of the language and style to ascertain the
relative antiquities of the stylistically disparate pieces that constitute
the buranjis. Perhaps, scholars of Assamese and Tai languages could
take care of this aspect
It is also unfortunate that no specialized glossary has yet been
exhaustively compiled to explain the terminology of the buranjis,
giving their etymological roots and their original Tai equivalents, if
any. In fact, many terms have already become obscure. For instance,
much confusion persists in the meaning of such terms as Hatimur,
Ghar-phalia, Lukhurakhan, etc. An exhaustive glossary will not solve
the problem of getting at their meanings, but it will surely help further
research towards solving it
I have already pointed out that the history of Assam is a well
charted field. It is particularly so for the medieval times in its political
and socio-religious aspects. But even so, much of our received
knowledge lacks a sense of dynamics. Take for instance, the Ahom
political system—the Khel, the Paiks, the Pal-Seva, the Bar Chara, the
Patra-Mantri and all that. While describing this system, our historians
have given us more or less a static picture of what prevailed during the
seventeenth and the early nineteenth centuries. They never bothered
themselves with the question as to how this political system gradually
developed since the times of Sukapha in response to the changing
situation and the growing needs of the Ahom society. Had the Khel
system been the same from the very beginning, there would not have
arisen the need for borrowing the term Khel from the Arabico-Persian
vocabulary to denote it. Just as the Ahom tribal assembly hall called
Hawlong (Bar-gharlbig house) was in due course transformed into the
seat of the much restricted Bar Cha'ra (and Bar-Mel), so was the
original tribal obligation of supplying volunteers for common defence
and public work transformed into the more regularised paik system.
From scattered information lying unnoticed in buranjis and also
relevant information gleaned from studies of other Tai peoples, we
could perhaps trace the evolution of the Ahom political institutions
from their tribal roots.
If much remains to be done in political history, the field of
economic history remains almost barren. We hope that some of us
would devote our efforts to this field. I need not emphasize while
concluding my say that if we mean research on medieval Assam to be a
serious business, we cannot afford to allow the Tai-Ahom language to
die o u t The last scholars of this language have to be sought out and
endowed with resources to keep up the tradition. The University of
Dibrugarh once acted nobly and wisely in opening facilities for
learning and cultivating the Tai language and literature.9 I wish this
arrangement continues to exist and expand.
N otes
1. Botham, Catalogue o f the Provincial Coin Cabinet Assam [5],
Goswami, Descriptive Catalogue o f Assamese Manuscripts [4].
2. One inch excellent compilation throwing light on Assam's ancient heritage is
Shaima, Inscriptions o f Ancient Assam [2].
3. Pidgin Assamese is widely used by the tribes of Nagaland and Arunachal both for
inter-tribal communication and communication with the plains people. This link
language is nowadays called 'Nagamese' in one area and 'Aiunamese* in the other.
4. Yule, *Notes on the iron of the Kasia hills...’ JASB, V ol II [100], 853.
5. Rao, 'Sarutaru...' in Man and Environment, VoL I [97], 40-43 and 'Continuity and
survival...' in Asian Perspectives, VoL 20 [98], 191-205.
6. Sharma, [2], 38-81.
7. Ibid, Introduction, 0 ’3-0’4.
8. Cited ibid, 015.
9. Arrangements for Tai studies were once made in the Department of Assamese
Language and Literature, Dibrogarh University, with Shri Bimal Barua as the lone
teacher to teach the language. In the Department of History of the Guwahati
University on the other hand, there has never been any provision for Tai language
studies. There Dr. J-NPhukan has taken up research in Tai chronicles and culture at
his own individual initiative. It is felt that consolidated efforts should be made by the
Government and the Universities to promote Tai studies in Assam..
3
Land Rights and Social Classes
Throughout the ancient and medieval times Assam remained a very

thinly populated region, because of its difficult terrain, an
agriculturally retarded tribal population and its forests and swamps. Of
some 24,000 square miles of its flat alluvial plains, very limited areas
were habitable. The central belt of riverine tract, open to the constant
alluvial and delluvial process of the Brahmaputra and covered with reed
and grass jungles, was unfit for any permanent cultivation and
habitation. The belt of submontane tract, also covered with reed and
grass jungles and having a sloping surface, was unsuitable for settled
agriculture. In both the belts the fast growth of irrepressible weeds as a
result of heavy rainfall—once the jungles were burnt off—made
continuous cultivation on the same plot of land beyond the third or
even the second year extremely difficult and labour-consuming.
Only various forms of shifting cultivation were suited to these two
belts. Peasants shifted every year from one piece of land to another,
preparing a new clearance by burning off its cover of bush and grass.
Land under such cultivation must have been held only as a tribal or
communal territory. This theory is supported by the recorded story of
constant tribal migrations from place to place as well as, by such
practices as are still extant in our times.1
Excepting a few sites protected by natural rocks right on the banks
of the Brahmaputra, the only available area for permanent habitation
and cultivation was the flat expanses of land between the aforesaid belts
on either side of the Brahmaputra river. It is probable that during the
twelfth/thirteenth centuries, this habitable area was much narrower and
the forest-covered submontane strip much wider than they are today. It
is in this flat plains area alone that the question of permanent,
inheritable land rights could first arise in a significant manner.
n
The extant copper plate land grants and rock inscriptions give us
very little information about the pre-Ahom land tenure. All such
epigraphic record relates only to grants made in favour of Brahman
scholars, priests and religious institutions. So, the conditions described
in them are certainly not representative of the general pattern of land
tenure of the relevant period. Nevertheless, they throw some light on
the conditions prevailing on the eve of the Ahom colonization of
Upper Assam.
The Bargaon and Sualkuchi copper plate land grants of Ratnapala
as well as the Guwahatigrant of Indrapala (eleventh ccntury), the Assam
grant of Vallabhadeva (1185 A.D.) and the two North Lakhimpur
grants, dated A.D. 1392 and 1402, respectively2—all establish one
important fact It is that the practice of land grants to Brahmans and
religious institutions, which was initiated by the Kamarupa King
Bhuti Varman3 in the sixth century, continued right up to the Ahom
period (1228-1826) and highlighted certain common features.
One such noticeable feature common to many of these inscriptions
is that the royal donor, while giving away a piece of waste land, also
makes gift of an inhabited village, or at least a certain number of
peasant families, to the same donee. For example, the Bargaon plate
records the grant of a tract of land together with its houses, paddy fields
and wastelands. The Assam plate of Vallabhadeva records the grant of
seven villages, along with rights over the people therein, to an alms
house (bhaktasala). It also records, at the same time, the donation of
another five persons as well as their wives and children to the same
alms-house. The North Lakhimpur plate of 1402 issued by a Chutiya
king, also refers to the grant of a whole village along side the grant of
two hundred putis (1 puti= 1’33 acres, if the puli is the same as the
later putaka or pura) of land as a benefice to a Brahman.
Thus in many of the grants, the donated piece of land is matched
with either the donation of an inhabited village or that of a number of
persons or of both. It is so because in a sparsely populated region like
Assam, grants of cultivable wastelands were meaningless unless farm
labour was also made available. Under such circumstances, the transfer
of a village to the donee made it possible for him to exact certain
services from the villagers for the development and cultivation of the
land concerned. It was a transfer of the royal rights over a portion of
the subjects to the grantee. The other practice of donating a number of
specified persons, along with a piece of land, suggests that there was
LAND fÖGHTS AND SOCIAL CLASSES 41
yet another class of farm people with a more servile status. They were
probably slaves or were, at the least, bound to the soil. The latter
practice continued also through the Ahom period till the early
nineteenth century. The persons so donated and settled on the farms
were known, during the Ahom period, as bahatia (derived from Vasai or
habitation) and, if slaves, as dasa or golam or, collectively, bandi-beti.
There must have been then, on the eve of Ahom colonization,
hundreds of such agrahara grants all over the Brahmaputra valley. These
Brahman settlements were outposts ot the Indo-Aryan civilization and
its settled way of life in the midst of tribal lands. Knowledge of
calendar, seeds, crops and cattle breeding had to precede any use of the
plough. The Brahman settlers who immigrated often from a distance
had this knowledge, as has been rightly emphasized by D.D.Kosambi.
As pioneers in a wild territory, 'they were the main instrument of
change to plough-village cultivation.'4
Another interesting feature of the land grants is to be noted. In
alienating a piece of land, e.g. in Bargaon and Guwahati grants, it was
felt necessary to notify the action to all persons in the district
concerned. This indicates that the villagers must have possessed certain
common rights over the land prior to its alienation. The Guwahati
grant, particularly, contains many non-sanskritic place names,
obviously of tribal origin. One cannot but conclude therefore that the
relevant land grant was carved out of some common tribal lands. It is
in this manner that proprietory estates were created in favour of
Brahman recepients. Systematic encroachment on common lands,
apparently waste but cyclically coming under shifting cultivation over
a period of years, was made under the authority of royal charters. They
were issued in order to encourage settled agriculture in a region where,
as it appears, fire fanning, hoe culture and shifting plough cultivation
predominated.5
Tradition recorded in early Assamese literature suggests that not
only Brahmans, but Kayastha, Daivajna and other high class migrants
were also favoured with royal land grants during the fourteenthsfi fteenth
centuries. They were known as Bhuyans while they wielded political
authority over their respectiye petty landed estates. As the weak kings
of the period could not protect their subjects from the frequent Bhot and
Bodo-Kachari incursions, the Bhuyans used to provide the necessary
protection. Thus they were not only landlords but also warriors.
Whenever there was a strong king, they would demonstrate their
loyalty through personal attendance at his court At other times, they
were almost independent and functioned through a loose confederacy of
their own, which was known by the term Barabhuyan. One of these
. 42 MEDIEVAL AND EARLY COLONIAL ASSAM
powerful Bhuyans, Chandibar Kayastha (fourteenth century),

commanded '80 shields'. According to legend, his liege-lord' was
chotaraja Gandharvaray who was again a 'vassal' of the king of Kamata
(Kameshwar). Chandibar's great grandson, the famous Vaishnava
religious reformer Shankardev inherited and managed a landed estate
which included, among others, thirty pairs of bullocks and one hundred
and twenty cows.^The Bhuyans of different places were gradually
subdued by the Ahoms and were resettled in new areas. Their
appearance, at least as early as the thirteentlrfourteenth centuries, also
suggests that some degree of feudalization of land had taken place in
certain areas during the period of weak central governments preceding
the full-fledged formation of the Ahom State.
It appears from the scant information contained in the Assamese

chronicles that the bulk of the tribal population of Upper Assam,
whom the Ahoms first confronted, were still carrying on primitive
cultivation of dry crops.7 Arum roots, yam, edible fern, firewood etc.
were initially accepted as tribute by the Ahoms from these conquered,"
but significantly no rice or paddy. That no serious or prolonged
clashes did take place between the migrant Ahoms and the aboriginal
Moran and Barahi tribes in the thirteenth century is understandable in
this context With a traditional wet rice culture, the Ahoms were not
interested in dispossessing these tribes of their lands which were suited
to dry crops alone. The latter's villages were left undisturbed, so that
certain services and token tributes could be periodically exacted from
them. However, the local autochthons with their primitive techniques
did not produce any substantial surplus which could support the several
thousand Ahom migrants. So, from the very time of their entry into
the Assam plains the Ahoms carried on their own soli (wet rice)
cultivation.* It is to them that Upper Assam owes much of its settled
cultivation.
Permanent settlement in the valley did not only involve the cutting
down and uprooting of trees in the low-lying wastelands and marshes,
but also the levelling up of the surface. Further, bunds or dykes had to
be thrown up here and there so that the fields could retain rain and flood
water in the right quantity, which is so necessary for sali paddy. The
migrants were equal to this task, as they had not only an excellent
organization, but also plenty of superior iron implements.9 It appears
that iron implements made in the Shan country of Upper Burma, e.g.
LAND RIGHTS AND SOCIAL CLASSES 43
the Nara dao, regularly found their way into Assam, although daos
were produced locally as well.
There were broadly two categories of land—raised or high lands,
suitable as homestead or garden sites (basti and barf) and low-lying
lands (rupit or row ti) all around, suitable for sali cultivation.
Reclaimed land of both the categories was parcelled out into individual
family plots, most probably according to the size and status of such
families.10 An individual family could, of course, reclaim at its own
cost more land than was allotted to it. But such a step presupposed a
big family which, together with household slaves, could then provide
the necessary labour. Land reclaimed through collective efforts
necessarily belonged to the community. Hence, rights in land were in
general not proprietory, except in the case of homestead and garden
lands. Generally, every Ahom homestead had a bamboo-fenced garden
surrounding i t
It is not possible to establish with documentary evidence that the
early Ahoms had some such pattern of settlement as described above.
However, developments on similar lines in analogous situations
elsewhere make it highly probable. Anthropological works on
individual tribes of Southeast Asia and other regions suggest that
originally land was owned, if not also worked collectively.11Gradually,
division into separately worked family holdings was introduced as a
result of the rising efficiency of the small holding.
This theory is corroborated by the survival of an archaic form of
landholding amongst the Khamtis, the nearest kinsmen of the Ahoms
with a common language as late as the nineteenth century. About a
Khamti village Cooper writes in 1873 :
Although the chief is the lord of the toil, the whole community till it on the
cooperative system, the chief having his portion allotted to him; after which the
produce is divided between each house, according to the number of hands in it
who have helped in the cultivation... Besides common land, small plots are also
cultivated by individuals.12
Cooper's observation might or might not be accurate down to its
minutest details. But that the concept of land ownership amongst the
Khamtis was communal is essentially true. The early Ahom concept
also could not be much different
Fortunately, the thirteenth century Tais of Thailand, with whom
the Ahoms and the Khamtis shared a common language and a common
racial origin, left an important document which throws light on the
subject. King Ramkhamhaeng’s stone pillar inscription (1292 A.D.)
states:
If a common man, a noble or a chici fell tick and died, the home of his
ancestors, his clothings, his elephants, his family, his rice granaries, his
slaves, the areca palm plantations of his ancestors were all transmitted to his
children.13
%
It is significant that the carefully drawn-up list of inheritable

properties does not include the paddy lands. In the thirteenth century
Sukhothai State of Thailand areca palm plantations and the homestead,
together with granaries, were regarded as inheritable private property.
But it was not explicitly so with paddy lands. It follows then that
paddy lands perhaps belonged to the community, i.e. to the King as
representative of the community. This medieval Thai practice is a key
to the understanding of the Ahom system of land rights in Assam.
IV
At the time of the British take-over of Assam it was noted that

hereditary private proprietory rights existed only in the case of home
steads and gardens, but not in the case of paddy lands,14unless backed
by specific copper plate grants. In fact the concept of communal land,
embedded in the cultural tradition, remained very much alive in relation
to the paddy lands.
The villagers had, more or less, free access to unoccupied dry lands
for fuel-wood and building materials or for grazing and temporary
cultivation. As to the wet paddy lands, their distribution was however
managed by the king as the leader of the community at large.
Wet paddy Helds, excepting those included in royal farms, office
lands, benefices created in favour of nobles, Brahmans and religious
institutions, were all uniformly distributed amongst the adult male
subjects who were not slaves. Each of them had the privilege of
receiving a piece of wet paddy land as his ga-mati (land attached to
person) and was obliged to render annually three to four months'
service to the State. His quota of such land, in addition to his ancestral
homestead and garden lands, could be supplemented by any amount of
inferior land, which was initially free of tax. It could be supplemented
even by an additional share of the wet paddy lands, in case such surplus
land (ubar mati) was available after meeting the claims of all local
paiks. Nominal taxes on additional landholding were introduced only in
the later Ahom period.15 But this entire taxed portion of land and even
a portion of ga-mati could be taken back if necessary by the crown, i.e.
the community.16 The system as such would not have worked so
smoothly till the end of the Ahom rule, had it not been backed by an
age-old tradition of communal ownership of land.
For the early Ahoms the recognition of permanent rights in

homestead and garden lands was but natural. It was so because houses
and perennial garden crops were fruits of individual labour which could
be permanently enjoyed by their rightful masters only through
permanent occupation. But the low-lying open fields all round the
permanent villages were in their very nature a common territory.
Reclaimed collectively, they were also protected against floods through
continuous collective efforts in dyke-building activities.17Every year
after the sali harvesting was over, the low-lying fields were temporarily
thrown open as common grazing grounds, and this customary practice
(garu udang dia) still remains very much alive in Assam. We may
therefore conclude that under the Ahoms, the peasant held his fields
with mere usufruct rights. His wet paddy lands always went back to the
community when he died or became over-aged. His dry paddy fields
too had no permanent location as they involved shifting cultivation.
From later sources we know that the quota of tax-free wet paddy
land per eligible adult male was fixed at two puras or about 2'66 acres.
But it appears that in earlier times each family was allowed to hold as
much land as it could reclaim and cultivate. However in practice, the
family’s working capacity set the limit which could not go much
beyond, say, 3 or 4 puras per adult male. But a prescribed limit became
necessary when best lands in the vicinity of the villages became
comparatively scarce as a result of population increase. Even this
prescribed allotment had to be curtailed in later days in some crowded
villages to provide land for those who had meanwhile attained the
qualifying age of sixteen.18 Yet another reason behind the introduction
of a fixed quota of tax-free landholding was the growing pressure on
the treasury, as a result of confrontation with the Mughals.
Until the sixteenth century , there was no system of land survey

under the Ahoms. With land in abundance and the population limited,
the whole administrative edifice was based primarily on a periodic
census of adult male population and the utilization thereof. Even after
some progress in the introduction of land surveys in imitation of the
Mughals19 during and after the reign of Gadadhar Singha (1681-96), the
system remained basically the same.
The entire paik population was divided into broad divisions under
the general name of mel or d a g i. One group of divisions was devoted
entirely to the service of the three great ministers, who could be
appointed only from select clans. Each such division attached to a great
minister was known as his hatimur. Another group of divisions

rendered its offices to members of the royal family, but were placed
under the immediate control of a number of officers called Phukan,
Barua and Rajkhowa. There were some fourteen divisions in this
category. The third and largest division—also divided into a number of
dagis under their respective officers—worked for the Rajah himself i.e.
the State. Each mel or dagi, comprising some 1,000 to 6,000 paiks,
consisted of a number of smaller divisions (Khel). A Khel again was
divided into so many gots. Thus, a got, i.e. a unit of three or four
persons, was the basic cell in the organization of the paik militia.
Besides those already mentioned, a number of important offices were
created during the first half of the seventeenth century. The hereditary
chieftains of vassal states and tribes were another important element in
their respective areas.
One-third or sometimes one-fourth of the members of a Khel were
always on state duty. This meant that one member of each got was
obliged to be present in rotation at places appointed by the King or his
officers "for such work as might be required of him, and during his
absence from home, the other members were expected to cultivate his
land and keep him supplied with food."20 In times of emergency such
as war, the second and even the third member of a got might be called
up at the same time. The superior officers recruited from blue-blooded
families, as well as, those commanding units of 20,100 and 1 000
paiks were entitled to engage a certain portion—varying from five to
ten per cent—of the paiks under their respective commands, in their
private households and farms. Besides, the top officers and ministers
were also provided with office lands in the vicinity of the capital,
which they enjoyed till their dismissal or demise.21
Despite some later modifications, the military-administrative
system of the Ahoms remained essentially the same till 1826 and thus
betrayed its tribal origin. It resembled very much that of medieval
Thailand and Vietnam, and also that of Manipur, Cachar and Jaintia.22
As we know from McCulloch (1858), the whole adult male population
of Manipur was divided into several divisions (pana), each working for
ten days in rotation, so that every male over sixteen years came on
duty for ten days out of every forty in order to serve the king or his
officers. This compulsory military or labour service (lallup) there went
together with the enjoyment of a piece of land measuring about three
acres. Two other kingdoms of Assam—Jaintia and Cachar—had a
somewhat simpler system of exacting' compulsory personal service
from their subjects. Thus, the organizational principle adopted by the
Ahoms was not peculiar to them alone; rather it was a variant of what
generally prevailed in many tribal societies of the past The gradation

of officers in terms of command over units of 100 and 1,000, according
to Bhuyan, was introduced in 1609.23 Also the term Khel, seemingly of
Arabico-Persian origin and meaning a cavalry division in the original
language, was a later introduction. But these influences could not hide
the basic tribal origins of the system.
The first Khels were presumably organized as localized kin-groups.
They were severally or jointly in control of adjacent fields, pastures and
jungles. We conjecture so because ancient Khels were often named
locality-wise, such as Jokaichukia, Abhaypuria, Gajpuria, Silpania,
Charingia and so on. Even the functional Khels were more like
locality-wise clans or caste groups. But in later times, the Khels
became mixed up and scattered throughout the state.24 But the officers
kept their trace so that they could not escape their labour service.
Sometimes, the Khels were split up at royal initiative so that new
Khels could be formed and settled in remote areas.25
Exemption from manual service was allowed when a man was
entrusted with some office or status. On grounds of high caste also,
one could be exempted. In later periods, and particularly in Kamrup,
the obligation of personal service was often commuted for a money-
tax. Again, men with specialized skill were allowed to make in-kind
payment or to contribute in terms of their specialized services alone.
For example, the gold washers contributed a part of their product while
the kakatis (writers) kept government accounts, in fulfilment of their
obligations to the state. All those subjects who were thus exempted
from ordinary labour, were known to have a chamua status. Some were
even freed from their Khels and were called apaikan chamua. In the
domain of Kamrup, because of earlier Mughal domination for some
years, the people were more accustomed to money-tax in lieu of
personal service.26 There, the ga-mati was therefore called jamma-mati.
Others, organized into specialized Khels, were known as paikan
chamua. The bulk of the paiks enjoying no such privilege were known
as kanri (archer) paiks. At the lowest end of the social scale were the
bandiffett (male and female domestic slaves) and the bahatia or serfs.
VI
The Ahom kings looked upon the paiks as alienable subjects. In doing
so they emulated the royal donors of ancient Kamarupa. By issuing
copper plate charters, they created permanent rights over considerable
tracts of land in favour of the privileged few. The latter cultivated these
chiefly with the help of slaves and assigned paiks. When the Chutiyas
were conquered at the beginning of the sixteenth century, one of their

surviving princes accompanied by twelve families was granted a big
tract of land neighbouring Darrang.27 This is the earliest known
literary reference to the use of copper plates by the Ahoms in the
matter of land grants. The introduction of devottar, dharmottar and
brahmottar land grants is credited to Pratap Singha (1603-41) by one
chronicler.28 Secular grants also were made for distinguished service to
officers and members of the nobility. For example, King Sujinpha
(1675-77) reportedly made a gift to his prime minister of many
domestics and the people of Parbatianagar, along with permanent rights
over a field in the riverine tract. Thgjerms of this particular grant
reflect the general conditions under which the donated estates were held
in the seventeenth century and, therefore, is worth quoting:
Whoever of my family becomes king in future, must tiy to keep this right
granted to the Buragohain. If the area of the land increases by alluvion, no other
person should be allowed to take possession of the land.29
Sujinpha's grant has several salient features. First, the piece of land
was permanently alienated. Secondly, a number of domestics besides
the people of Parbatianagar were given to the donee. Thirdly, the piece
of land was in the riverine tract, subject to an alluvial and delluvial
process, i.e. in all probability waste land. It is obviously to encourage
the cultivation ofwaste-Landsthat the grant was made. That is why not
only a number of domestics but also the people of Parbatianagar were
granted to the prime minister. However, while the domestics concerned
became the property of the donee and could be settled as bahatia, the
people of Parbatianagar were obviouslyl assigned only temporarily.
However, the fact that the king could give away even his paiks is
conclusively established by the later copper-plate charters, which we
now propose to discuss.
Of the fortyeight extant copper-plate land grants which are
mentioned by Gait, three were issued by Gadadhar Singha and the rest
by succeeding kings.30 Terms and concepts used in all these
inscriptions are often reminiscent of those of ancient Kamarupa copper
plates. Many of the obscurities of the latter could possibly be clarified,
if a comparative study of the two sets were undertaken.
A close examination of the published land grants of Rajeswar
Singha (1751-69)31 reveals several features which are common with the
ancient ones. These a re :
i) a scrupulous description of the boundaries of the donated land;
ii) notification of the act of grant to all people;
iii) guarantee of permanent rights to the donee and his descendants

over the donated land, subject to their regular praying for the king
or for loyalty, according to the circumstances;
iv) enlistment, of all taxes and exactions from which the donee was
exempted;
v) gift of persons together with land in many cases.
Exemptions recorded are those from p a d (tax payable on

employment as officer), panchak (levy on household basis for
collective purpose), kar-katal (general taxes), bethbegar (personal '
service and forced labour), chor-chhinala(pmitive taxes/fines for theft
and adultery), dhumuchi (escheat), maresha (fees on marriage),32
yavaksar (obligatory supply of saltpetre), jalkar (tax on boating and
fishing waters) and from various tolls (dan and khut) at border-posts
(chaki), markets (hat) and ferries (ghat). The recital of the long list of
exemptions or surrendered royal rights appears to have preserved the
form and style of the ancient epigraphic inscriptions. Incidentally, it
may also be noted that the term chor-chhinala reminds us of a similar
term, chauradharana in an eleventh century land grant of Indrapala 33
Of the land grants tabulated below, as many as seven involve the
donation of some paik households to the several donees. They were
freed from obligations of personal service to the state and were attached
permanently to the donated lands for the benefit of the donees.
However, both the donees and the persons donated continued to remain
within the jurisdiction of royal puishments (7,a/adaaî).
vn \
In summing up, we once more stress the important features noted

in earlier sections. It was not the village, in the sense of a territorial
unit, but the Khel which dominated the socio-economic life. The land
was held in community by the members of a Khel which was generally
a localized clan or a caste-group, but not always so. Extant place
names such as Changmai-pathar, Tanti-pathar, Sonari-pathar,
Chowdang-pathar, Chungi-pathar, Hatimuria-pathar, Naobaicâ-pathar,
etc. bear the tetimony of this.34 The concept of raij (public) is even
today very strong in Assam; and woods, pastures and natural fisheries
are generally regarded—whatever be the current law—as rajahua or
common lands. In Assamese, raij means a body of raiyats gathered for
a common purpose. All the Khels of a common neighbourhood
together would constitute a raij.
However, in course of tíme the scope of royal rights steadily

extended. The king had not only the absolute right to grant portions
carved out of common lands as benefices to individuals, but could give
away a portion of his commoner subjects as well, to the recepients of
such benefices. British officers-Scott, Jenkins, Mathie, Brodie and
others-made an on-the-spot enquiry into the question of land rights as
they stood at the close of the Ahom regime. They were all convinced
that, traditionally, the individual ryot had permanent rights only in his
bari land,i.e. the homestead and garden lands. It will suffice here if we
only quote from what Brodie reported from Nowgong to Jenkins. He
used the word 'clan' for a K hel and forwarded his findings in the
following w ords:
The land appears to have been considered as the property of the different clans...
On the death of a pyke his two poorahs did not descend to his son, but revertedlo
that portion of the clan of which he was a member.
To such a degree was this clan system carried, that a case was one day brought
before me, where a girl being left an orphan was sold by her father’s clan, and there
seem^ to be no doubt that each clan had the right to sell or give in marriage any
female child whose father was a member of it, left without parents or near male
relative.
I consider lands to have been permanently vested in the clans, and nowhere else
excepting the house and garden lands, which I have just said us hereditary in each
man's family. But I think it can hardly be doubted that the head of the state had the
right to make any grants he pleased.3^
Bogle and Robinson went a step further and concluded that not only
the land, but the paik also was the property of the State,36 i.e. the
King. Paiks could be given away at his pleasure. However, it should
be noted that the donated paik did not become thereby a saleable
property, although in many other respects he resembled a slave (bandi-
beti). He attained the status of a serf bound to the soil, through a
transfer of the royal right to receive service from him.
Neither were there saleable rights in land in general; particularly, in
wet paddy lands. Even if a paik mortgaged his ga-mati or jamma-mali
as it was called in Kamrup—what was mortgaged was in fact his right
of cultivation only. In all circumstances the obligation of contributing
labour, or commutation money in lieu thereof, remained with him and
not with the mortgager. This is because the state did not take cognition
of the fact of the mortgage.37 Even the hereditary landed property-
homestead and adjacent garden lands-was unsaleable, as transfer of
one's ancestral homestead land to anybody outside the clan was almost
unthinkable. In the buranji literature I came across only two oblique
references which could somehow remotely be associated with the

concept of a land purchase. In both the cases, a troubled general
declared in disgust that he had already purchased just four cowries'
worth of land to provide for the grave.38 This can be dismissed merely
as a way of expression, since it did not suggest any real purchase of
land. In the absence of a proper money economy, land could not yet
become a commodity there till 1826. Hence, land sales took place very
rarely, that too only in Kamrup.
Vffl
Medieval Assamese society was based on a natural economy, with

very little of specialization. It did not have any urban centre of the type
known to the rest of India at the time. Even the capital was a mere
conglomeration of villages within a wall of live bamboo-fencing
which enclosed cultivated fields as well.39 Close to a hundred per cent
of the people were associated, wholly or partially with land and
cultivation. However, the society was stratified into a number of
distinct classes.
The top secular aristocracy was composed of the seven leading
Ahom clans (Satgharia Ahom) who monopolized all important offices.
The spiritual aristocracy was constituted of temple priests, goswamis
and mahantas of approved satras (abbots of Vaishnava monasteries) and
such Brahmans as were favoured with land grants. Besides, there were
the vassal rajahs and border chieftains as well as other apaikan chamua
of considerable means. All these categories of people had their
hereditary landed estates or farms (khat). These were generally worked
by bandi-beti and bahatia, but when the A/wMiolders were in office,
also by the paiks assigned for their private work. The latter were for
them also the source of various specialized services such as oil-
pressing, boat making, house building etc., and payments in cash or
kind in lieu of service as well.40 The farms or khats were mostly
developed out of wasteland grants, as in the case of goswamis who
were given vast tracts in the five hundred square-mile river island of
Majuli. Some had their khats spread all over the State. The king was
the biggest of all khat holders and had a network of royal stores all
over the country. Besides his own khats, there were khats to maintain
the dowager queen, the queen, royal brothers and the princes and
princesses along with their respective establishments. Many , others
also had their hereditary khats.
The nobility-both secular and spiritual-must have been quite rich
as is evident from the way they spent. In mid-eighteenth century the
marriage dowry of a Barphukan's daughter comprised two elephants, ten

horses, five hundred buffaloes, one thousand cows, one hundred slaves,
three hundred wardrobes, eighteen pieces of gold utensils, eighteen
pieces of silver utensils, one gold saddle and several sets of gold and
silver jewellery.41 Spiritual lords (prabhu), i.e. the goswamis and
mahantas, were not far behind. The inventory of the Mahanta of
Moamaria Satra for example, included amongst others ten to twelve
khats, four to five thousand buffaloes and eight to ten thousand
attendants, besides thousands of tithe-paying adherents, during 1751-
69 42 Immediately after British occupation of Assam, a Brahman of
Kamrup was found in possession of fortyfive thousand bighas (about
14,876 acres) of brahmottar land. "A very large proportion of the land
and all the best lands," said Bogle in course of his evidence before the
Slavery Commission, 1841, "is held by Brahmins who are also
principal holders of slaves."43 On the margin of this aristocracy were
the apaikan chamua of small means who were freed from the Khels and
from obligatory menial or any other service as paiks.
The bulk of the people, however, belonged to the paik class who
were again classified into two categories-Jfca/wi paik and chamua paik.
Both were organized into Khels. But while the former were liable to
obligatory manual service of any kind to the state, the latter were
permitted to contribute periodically shares of the specialized products oir
their skilled services. Many of the chamua khels such as those of
goldsmiths, gold washers, braziers, fishermen, oil-pressers, and even
farmers were morôr less like guilds. The bulk of the peasantry were
however kanri paiks.
The chamua paiks were undoubtedly free men. So were the kanri
paiks in so far as their residence at a particular place was not formally
obligatory. As long as a paik continued to serve the king for the
prescribed period, he was quite free in his movements.Secondly, he had
his own homestead and garden lands and thus was independent of any
landlord. He could even, collectively with his Khel fraternity, force the
change of unpopular petty officers over the K hel44 Above all, his right
to a portion of the Khel land for cultivation was indisputable. His ga-
mati was as much a proof of his membership of the society, as it was
a privilege.
But all said, his condition was worse than a slave's in the later Ahom
period, as we shall see in a moment. He could have lived better by
bringing more land under the plough in the given context of
unlimited supplies of wastelands. But as some one-third or so of his
annual labour time was utilized by the State for its own purposes, he
could hardly afford to do so. In times of warfare, when the second and
even the third paik of a got was called to service, the burden on his
domestic economy was at its highesL
The system of land distribution was responsible for his holding
being fragmented. His plot of wet paddy land was not necessarily
adjacent to his homestead and garden lands. His dry lands were subject
to constant shifting because of difficult weeding, the changeful nature
of the river-bed and ethnic habits, and were generally available at a few
miles' distance. He had to eke out his living from all these scattered
plots of land.
Conditions were still worse for some one-fourth to one-third of the
mobilized paiks who were assigned as likchou to officers and had to
work in the latter's private khats and households.45 Even a slave had
better treatment because if he died or escaped, there was loss of
property to the master. But it was not so in the case of a likchou who
was neither possessed nor fed by the assignee. The likchous cOQtd
avoid their unpleasant duties only by compensating the assignees with
in-kind or money payments.
At the bottom of the social ladder were the bahatia (serf) and the
bandi-beti (male and female slaves). Perhaps slightly superior, but
within the broadly servile class, were those paiks who were
permanently withdrawn from their Khels and attached to the Satras
(monasteries) and temples, for providing specific services to them.
Such people were known as bhakat when attached to a Satra and,
dewalia and paik, when attached to a temple. The temple paiks were
entitled to one-and-a half to two puras of land for homesteads.46The
servile class had no obligations of any kind towards the king or the
state.
The household slaves(bandi-beti) could be bought and sold, although
the sale of a slave was considered highly discreditable.47Others of the
servile class were attached to the soil and could not be generally
separated therefrom for sale. The household slaves, bahatias, dewalias,
bhakats and temple paiks—all had a kind of security which a kanri paik
never had in times of frequent warfare. Because of this, kanri paiks
often used to sell themselves to a rich man in contravention of the
country's law. The powerful officers also, according to Bogle, at times
took advantage of the imbecility of the government to make slaves of
the assigned paiks, by usurping their land.4*
Lastly, debt-slavery was widespread during the last days of the
Ahom rule. Persons often mortgaged themselves for an indefinite
periodMortgagers, called bandha were in course of time converted into
TABLE 3.1
Some Land Grants o f 18th Century Assam
Date Name of donee and Nature of land Other particularsLocationNun

A.D. total amount of land grant donated with the
donated gnat
1754 Dipteswar temple (490 puras) Devottar -------- ------- Many

1754 Sankhapani Medhi of Dharmouar (a) Surplus marshy *Parganah Pubpar Nil
Sundarikhel Sacra (more ]and(ubardaiani)
than 8 puras) 8 puras
<b) the adjacent
marsh {beet)
1756 Lakhsminath (60 puras) Brahmottar --------

Sibsagar 14
1757 Dirgheswari Temple (426 puras) Devottar -------- ------- 50j goes
1759 Tantrasiromani Bhatta- Brahmottar — -------- 90
charya & Bros.
1759 Narayan Sarma (49 puras) Brahmottar -------- -------- Ingots
1763 Jagjiu Satra (13 puras) Brahmottar -------- --------
12 households
1764 Rajvaidya Dhananjay Sarma Brahmottar ■ Sibsagar 3
(128 puras)
1764 Visharad, son of Mahendra (a) Confirmation of (a) Wet paddy land (a) Village Barhata in
Brahman (more than 210 puras) the brahmottar, (rupit one bihi) Parganah Bamagar
granted to his and dry land
father (faringati 30 puras)
(b) Confirmation of (b) Dryland = (b) Village Ulahpur in
the brahmottar, (fcringdi Barpeta
by a former king 180 puras) i
(conld)
1766 Kaviratna Chakravarti Brahmottar (a) Wet paddy land (a) Village Sutar Nil
Chandipathak (lai 10 puras) in Parganah Pati
(nearly 40 puras) darrang
W One piece of (b) Village Nanara
4 puras
(c) Wet paddy land (c) Village Kakaya
(lai 12 puras) in Parganah B amagar
(d) One piece of (d) Village Pipe-
6 puras ribari in Parganah
bari land 2 puras PubBajali
1784 Ramkami Bharali (a) Surplus indigo (a) Village Bhangar Nil
land (nil 4 kuchi in Parganah
puras; ¿xzri Barthag
land 2 puras)
(b) Marshy land (b) Village Uttar-
(dolati 10 kuchi in Parganah
puras; bari land Barbhag
- 3 puras)
(C) Another piece (c) Village Manai-
(6 puras) kuchi in Parganah
Dehar
1780 Anwar Haji Revenue-free
Faqir Farsiparhia grant for Darga
SOURCE tTexts of Rajeswar Sinha's copper plate inscriptions published by S.K. Bhuyan in Banhii [ 211 ] XV and XVI, 650-55 ; Gait. A
History o f Assam [ 148 ] ; Text of copperplate inscription, dated 1780 A.D., published in Batari [ 212 ], 27, January 1934.
* The administrative division of Kamrup into Parganahs was introduced by the Mughals during the early 17th century and was retained there
even under the Ahoms.
1 pura = 1‘33 acres (approximately).
slaves in most cases. During the early years of British occupation,

thousands of slaves and bondsmen were liberated; but the system law
fully continued till 1843. Of the estimated population (271, 944) of
one district, Kamrup, in the thirties of the last century about sue per •
cent were slaves and about three per cent bondsmen.49 It could not
be much different in other districts. So, we may conclude that at the
close of the Ahom period, some nine per cent or so of the total
population were slaves and bondsmen. The servile class as such,
inclusive of other categories, constituted a still larger proportion.
We shall now try to quantify the population and its constituent
classes around 1750. Gunabhiram Barua estimates the population of
Assam in Rajeswar Singha's reign at twentyfour lakhs, and this is
raised to 2.5 million by Bhuyan.50 We have worked out the ratio of
slaves and bondsmen to the total population at some nine per cent at
the close of the Ahom rule. It appears from the Report of the Slavery
Commission that the incidence of slavery actually increased during the
period of civil wars and political turmoil of 1769-1825.51 So, the
proportion of slaves and bondsmen was certainly less around 1750.
However, inclusive of unfree bhakats, bahatias and temple paiks, the
servile class must have constituted not less than nine per cent of the
population. We would rather put it at ten per cent. We can also work
out roughly the ratio of chamua (inclusive o f apaikan chamua) to kanri
paik from the available data on Rudra Singha’s (1696-1714) general
mobilization around 1714. According to one chronicle (available now
only in the translation by Wade), of the 360 thousand men registered in
his directly administered territory— 100 thousand were exempted from
military service because of their chamua status, and the remaining
260,000 were effective men.52 Assuming this very ratio between the
chamua and kanri paik classes to be valid also for 1750 and for Assam
as a whole, we can now have a classwise breakdown of this total
estimated population as follows:
Chanua kanri-pcak Unfree Total

(paikan and apaikan) *
6*25 lakhs 16*25 lakhs 2*50 lakhs 25 lakhs
(25%) <65%) (10%) (100%)
* Here, inclusive oí ihe top aristocracy.

The landed top aristocracy, i.e. the ruling Ahom families who held
khats and monopolized the offices as well as the privileged Brahmans
perhaps constituted some one per cent of the total population.53 It was
this top stratum who held the bulk of the slaves and khats.
N otes
1. Badel-Powell, Land Systems o f British India , Vol. 3 [75], 417-18; Allen, Assam
Pro*. District Gazetteers [101], IV 199 and VIH 251.
2. For the Bargaon, Sualkuchi and Guwahati copper plates Sharma, Inscriptions o f
Ancient Assam, [2], 152-72, 173-78 and 179-92, respectively. For the Assam plate
of Vallabhadeva, ibid, 291-301; For the North Lakhimpur plates of Qiutiya Kings,
Prachya-Sasanavali [3], 186-89 and Appendix 93-97.
3. The Nidhanpur plate of Bhaskara Varman confirmed a land gram by Bhuti Varm an.
Sharma, [2], 245-50. A dated rock inscription (c. 554 A.D.) of the latter king was
discovered in the interior of Assam by R.M. Nath. The inscription announces the
establishment of an ashrama (hermitage) by a minister.—Sharma, [2], 4-9.
4. Quoted from Kosambi, Introduction to The Study o f Indian History [165], 291.
5. Of the three, shifting plough cultivation is the highest form. It persisted in the
Brahmaputra Valley throughout the 19th century. A sizeable section of the Bodo-
Kachari and Mishing (Miri) tribes of the plains also continued to practise shifting
hoe-cultivation, side by side. See Note 1 above; also, Dalton, D escriptive
Ethonology o f Bengal [139], 33-81; Hodgson, Essay the First...[92], 146.
%
6. For this paragraph, Shankardev, Bhagavata [21], 5534-5 and 12901-2 in Cantos IV
and X, respectively; Neog, Shri Shri Sankaradev [201], 10-16,43 and 80-81; Gait
[1491,39-41.
7. The Morans were found carrying on primitive cultivation even as late as the early
19th century. For the nature of tributes exacted from them in the 13th century, see
Ahom-Buranji, tr. Barua [23],10-11; Sadar-Amin, Asam Buranji [19], 12 and
Deodhai AsamBuranji [12], 101.
8. Deodhai Asam Buranji [12], 8.
9. The recorded legend that the founders of the Tai-Ahom royal clan, Khunlung and
Khunlai, descended from the heaven by an iron ladder (according to one version, a
golden ladder)and that they were equipped with heavenly swords (hengdang) is
meaningful.—Ahom-Buranji [23], 8 and 18; Tamuli-Phukan, AsamBuranjiSar [20],
2-3, According to William Robinson, writing in 1841, agricultural implements
which the Shans of Upper Burma sold to Assam were 'of a superior metal to that
commonly produced in Assam'. Robinson, A Descriptive Account o f Assam [183],
35; also see Me Tosh. JASB, Vol. 5 [177], 198.
10. On the evidence of Marco Polo and Chinese chronicles, Thompson writes that land
used to be divided according to the size and rank of the families amongst the 13-
century Tai people of South China.-Thomp«on, Thailand : The New Siam [189],
18-19. There is no concrete evidence that the Tai-Ahom practice resembled this.
However, their legends suggest how their first settlement was made in Upper
Burma. 'They made villages in a valley near a hill...Khunlung and Khunlai took a
view of the country by mounting on an elephant They divided the lands between
their subjects and returned to the capital*. —Ahom-Buranji [23], 40. Emphasis ours.
11. For example, among the Kachins in some areas of Burma, the fenced garden attached
to the homestead and under permanent cultivation, is private while the field plots in
the annual village clearings are no t—Leach, Political Systems o f Highland Burma
[168], 111 and 114-15.
12. Quote from Cooper *New routes for commerce : the Mishmi Hills 1873' [89], 370.
#
§
13. Quote from a translated extract in Pendleton, Thailand [182], 9. For a more reliable
translation and the full text, see Griswold and Nagara, Journal o f The Siam Society,
VoL 59 [92], pp. 203-221. The relevant extract is translated there as follows. 'When
any commoner or man of rank dies, his estate—his elephants, wives, children,
granaries, rice, retainers and groves of areca and betel—is left in its entirety to his
son'. Elsewhere the same inscription mentions orchards and plantations as
inheritable private property, but it says nothing about the ownership rights over the
rice fields. The translators, therefore, presume (ibid, 208n ) that all the
land^xcepting groves and orchards was unencumbered royal property.
14. Mathie to Jenkins, 15 Feb. 1835; Brodie to Jenkins, 15 Nov. 1835 and Jenkins to
Secy, to Revenue Dept., 3 Feb. 1836 [28].
15. Ibid; also Asam Buranji Sar [20], 62. There was no general tax on land at the time
of Mir Jumla's Assam expedition (1662-1663). Shihahuddin Talish wrote : I t ts not
the custom here to take any land tax from the cultivators; but in every house one
man out of three has to render service to the Raja'. —Talish, Fathiya i'ibria, tr.
S*ik*rtJBORS, VoL 1, [99], 179.
16. Jenkins to Secy., Rev. Dept 3 Feb. 1836 [28].
17. Such activities, organised on a war footing, constituted an essential function of the
Ahom State. Even during the early British period, on one occasion more than a lakh
of people in Nowgong district voluntarily engaged themselves in repairing some
thirtyfour embankments : Sub-Asst Commissioner, Nowgong, to Jenkins, 28
April 1854, Bengal Rev. Cons. [33], 20 July 1854, No. 15.
18. Same as Note 16 above.
19. Gait, A History o f Assam [149], 170. For details 6f the Ahom administrative and
revenue systems, ibid, 231-46 and Bhuyan, Anglo-Assamese Relations [128], 7-12,
250-52 and 529-30.
20. Quote from Gait, [149], 239.

21. Wide, An Account o f Assam [24] ,<Introduction, xv-xvi,
22. For comparative purposes Thompson, [189], 292-93, 313, 541 and 625;
McCulloch, An account o f the valley o f Munnipore [78], 11-15; Hodson, The
Meitheis [163], 65; Soppit, A Historical and Descriptive Account o f the Kachari
Tribes [142], 27; Allen, Report on the Administration o f the Cossyah and JyntuJ>
Hill Territory [68], 729.
23. Bhuyan, [128], 11.
24. Ibid, 565 and Robinson [183], 203.
25. Deodhai Asam Duranji [12], 70 and 130;Barbania, Tungkhungia Buranji [15], 23.
26. Bhuyan, [128], 529-31 and 565.
27. The tract was bounded on the southernside by the Brahmaputra, on the western and
eastern sides by its two tributeries and in the north by the Himalayan hill range. For
this domain the prince was to pay annually a tribute of rupees eighty and forty
course woollen carpets.—Deodhai Asam Buranji [12], 200.
28. Asam Buranji Sar [20], 27.
29. Quote from Ahom Buranji [23], 251.
30. Gait, [149J, 189°*
31. See Table 3 1 .
32. Butler, Travels and Adventures in the Province o f Assam [133], 240 for the term
maresha. For meanings of other terms, Hemakosh [116].
33. Sharma [2], 183.
34. For the place names see the village directory in Census of of India, 1961, Assam
District Hanbdbooks-Sibsagar [106]. Pathar in Assamese means a field.
35. Quote from Brodie to Jenkins, 15, No. 1835 [28], Emphasis ours.
36. Bogle to Jenkins, SepL 1835 [28], Robinson, 1183], 200.
37. Same as Note 16 above. Also Bogle's report to T.C. Robertson, Commissioner of
Revenue in Guwahati, 28 Jan. 1834 in Reportfrom The Indian Law Commissioners
Relating to Slavery [76], Appendix VI, 416.
38. Asam Buranji, ed. Bhuyan [11], 43 and 101. In former times, the Ahcms used to
buiy their dead.
39. As described by Talish, Fathiya i'ibria, JBORS. vol 1 [99], 179ff and Cazim, "A
description of Assam”, Asiatick Researches, Vol. 2, [88], 178.
40. Wade [24], Introduction-xv-xvi.
41. Ahom Buranji [23], 276. Barphukan was the designation for the governor of Lower
Assam. He was also a member of the Patra-Mantri, i.e., the supreme council
42. Bhuyan [128], 196.
43. For the figure in bighas, Foreign Political Proc. [35],9 Sept.1825, Nos. 22-24; for
quote, Bogle's report to Robertson, 28 Jan. 1834 reproduced in Report from The
Indian Law Commissioners.. .[76], 258.
44. Bhuyan [128], 359.
45. The compound term lagua-likchau means a body of retinue and servitors. About
their relations with the officers they served, sec Buchanan Hamilton, An Account o f
Assam .. [38], 23-24.
46. Robinson [183], 203.
47. Scott to Swinton, 10 Oct. 1830 cited in Report from The Indian Law Commissioners
[76], 403.
48. Bogle's evidence, ibid, 358; Robinson [183], 204.
49. Worked out fron> an official estimate reproduced ibid, 288.
50. Bhuyan, [128], The indigenous population of Assam proper stood at about 16 lakhs
in 1891 and at 14 lakhs in 1872. The population was estimated at some 9 lakhs
only around 1826. It was then abnormally low, because in course of the preceding
half-century Assam had been devastated by a protracted civil war followed by the
Burmese invasion.
52. Wade, [24], 141. The quota of fighting men severally supplied by the vassals of
Darrang, Beltala, Rani, Na-Duar, Topakuchi, Dimania, Jainda and Cachar, and also
by the people of newly-conquered Kamrup are not included in the given figures.
53. In 1872, the Ahoms constituted some nine per cent and the Brahmans and Ganaks
(Daivajna) together,four per cent of the indigenous population of Assam proper. An
analysis of the 1891 census also gives roughly the same relative poportions—the
Brahmans alone forming 3*3 per cent of all indigenes. The same may be assumed
also for 1750 in the absence of proper data. However, we should remember that only
a fraction of these powerful communities belonged to the top one per cent of the
population. A majority of the Brahmans nevertheless enjoyed a-paikan (non-paik)
chamua status. That is, they were not included in any Khel and, hence, were free
from rendering any kind of service, manual or non-manual. A majority of the
Ahoms however continued to be kanri-paiks.
The Tai Migration and its Impact
on the Rice Economy
The economy of the Brahmaputra valley of Assam, in many ways a

typical case of isolation, exhibits certain special features deriving from
its history, physical configuration and social structure. The flat valley
is shut in by hills on all sides except the west. From time
immemorial, its agriculture has been dominated by various tribes,
mainly of the Tibeto-Burman stock. On conversion to Hinduism in
course of time, many of them became altogether new castes, as such
unknown elsewhere in the rest of India. Archaeological ruins, extant
epigraphic records and the predominance of the age-old Assamese
language undoubtedly prove the early existence of a process of
Aryanization in this valley. But it was never very deep. In the medieval
times, Mughal administration or Islam could touch only a fringe of its
heterogeneous society. In fact, many tribes did manage to continue
their somewhat fossilized ways of life down to the present century. The
agrarian history of the valley is particularly influenced by this
isolation. Here we propose to examine the impact of the thirteenth
century Tai immigration on the valley's medieval agriculture. It is then
that a section of the Northern Tai or Shan tribe (also called Thai) of
Upper Burma entered this valley and came to be known as Ahoms.
Numbering a few thousands or may be, a few hundreds at the
beginning, they rapidly swelled in number through assimilation of
local population as well as fast natural growth. They also received
fresh groups of Shan migrants from Upper Burma from time to time.
Within three centuries, they built a strong state and by 1632 held
almost the whole of the Brahmaputra valley up to the left bank of
the Manas under their rule till the early nineteenth century. Their
contribution to Assam's agriculture is interesting in more than one
respect
During the period between the thirteenth and the fifteenth century
Assam had no centralized state. On the north bank of the Brahmaputra
in the easternmost part of the valley there ruled the Chutiya tribe. They
were an agricultural community who had come down from the hills and
settled along the banks of the tributaries of the Brahmaputra. They
were already exposed to Hindu influence and were ruled by a Hinduized
dynasty. South of the Brahmaputra, in the same easternmost part of the
valley, the non-Hindu Moran and Borahi tribes led a precarious
existence. South of them there was a powerful kingdom of the Bodo-
Kachari tribe in the central part of the valley.1 West of the Kacharis as
well as of the Chutiyas, there were a number of petty Hindu chiefs,
together as a group called Bara-Bhuyan. In the westernmost part of the
valley-formeridistricts of Kamrup and Goalpara—there still continued
the waning influence of Kamata, a successor state to the ancient
Kamarupa empire. Kamata was overthrown by a short-lived Turko-
Afghan invasion around 1498. By the early sixteenth century, the Koch
tribe of Lower Assam and adjoining North Bengal rose into
prominence and established their kingdom upon the ruins of Kamata.
They were at the height of their power around 1562, when the Ahom
capital at Garhgaon was sacked by the Koch army. Thereafter, their
domain was gradually encroached upon from the west by the Mughals
and from the east by the Ahoms. From the last quarter of the
seventeenth century the Ahoms were the masters of almost the whole
valley.
These political conditions and diverse culture-contacts must have
had their imprints on the agricultural practices of the valley. Copper
plate inscriptions or early literary sources throw little light on the
pattern of pre-Ahom agriculture. What is known is that there were
broadly, three kinds of land in the valley—kshetra (arable land), khila
or apakrsta bhumi (waste lands) and vastu (building sites). Kshetra
lands were generally paddy fields criss-crossed with dykes. Ratnapala's
Bargaon Copper-Plate inscription (c.1035 A.D.), however, also
mentions of labukutikshetra,2 meaning fields of bottle gourds along
with paddy fields. Rice was undoubtedly the dominant crop, since land
measurements were often expressed in terms of the paddy yield. But as
to the relative importance of sali and ahu varieties of rice or of
permanent and shifting cultivation in pre-Ahom Brahmaputra valley,
nothing is definitely known.
T h e E t h n ic B a c k g r o u n d o f t h e A h o m s
AND THEIR RlCE-CULTURE
The Ahoms had their original home somewhere in south-western

Clvna. At the beginning of the Christian era, these early Tais were
THE TAI MIGRATION AND ITS IMPACT 63
described in Chinese annals as living on hot, well-watered plains,

growing wet rice through irrigation and terracing, using buffaloes and
oxen and living in pilehouses with verandahs.3 It was from there that
they spread out in all directions—to Upper Burma, Thailand,
Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam. The fact that many words pertaining to
rice cultivation, domestic animals and metals are common to Shan,
Thai and Ahom languages reflects their common past4
The legendary account of the origin of the Tai people in Ahom
chronicles hints at the agricultural superiority of these people over
their backward neighbours. According to their recorded legend, a
council of gods decided after due deliberations to send a group of
heavenly people—the forefathers of the Ahoms—to the earth,
because— 'Large fields are lying fallow. These may be •well-cultivated.
The people of up and down countries are in constant warfare with each
other and whoever may get victory rules the countries for the time.'5
Thus the migrant Ahoms believed that they had a mission to fulfil
in introducing better cultivation in a territory where large fields were
lying fallow.' The Ahoms had a developed technique of growing
transplanted rice on wet, permanent fields, whereas their tribal
neighbours practised wasteful shifting culdvarion. This latter pracdce
required in the long run, as it still requires, ten to fifteen times more
land than what culdvadon on permanent fields required to maintain a
family. It appears that at the time of Ahom immigradon shifdng
culdvadon, involving large-scale fallowing, dominated the agriculture
of Upper Assam and Burma. Divested of its myth, the chronicler's
account suggests only this plain fact
To this day, shifdng culdvadon dominates the hills of Assam and
was extant on a wide scale even in the Brahmaputra valley itself,
particularly in its western and central parts and in Lakhimpur as late as
the nineteenth century. A descripdon of this form of agriculture in the
plains by Capt J.Buder (1847) is worth reproducing here :
In January, February, March and April, the whole country adjoining
Burpelah presents a spectacle seldom seen elsewhere ; the natives set lire to
the jungle to clear the land for cultivation and to open the thoroughfares
between the different villages, and the awful roar and rapidity with which
the flames spread cannot be conceived. A space of many miles of grass
jungle, twenty feet high is cleared in a few hours....The jungle is burnt
down, and for three successive years two crop6 are annually realised from it
In February mustard seed is gathered in....and in June the spring rice, sown
broadcast, is reaped. After the land has been thus impoverished, it is allowed
to remainfallow for three years andfresh jungle land is burnt and prepared
in the the same primitive way, and with most simple implements of
husbandry.6
The District Gazetteers reveal that fifty per cent, thirty-nine per cent
and nine per cent of the settled areas in the then Barpeta, North
Lakhimpur and Guwahati subdivisions respectively were under shifting
cultivation of this form or some other at the close of the nineteenth
century.
A digression, at this stage, on the types of rice grown in Assam
will be useful to the understanding of the argument to follow. The
variety of rice suited to shifting cultivation on undulating or sloping
• lands in submontane and riverine tracts is variously called 'upland', 'dry'
or 'eiirly' rice. Its local name is ahu, and it is generally sown broadcast.
The other and more important variety of rice suited to permanent
cultivation on low-lying flat and wet lands is sali. It is generally
transplanted in August and harvested in winter. Sali takes a long time,
at least five months, to mature. Therefore, sali fields rarely allow
double-cropping. But as ahu matures early, it is sometimes followed
by another crop, pulses or mustard. However, after about three years
the ahu fields become totally exhausted and have to be fallowed for
several years. The sali fields on the other hand are enriched by annual
floods and they thus retain their natural fertility. The sali cultivation is
highly labour-intensive at the stage of transplantation. But for the
subsequent period, there is not much work for farmers to do until the
time of harvesting. This is because weeds do not grow at all on the
water-logged fields. On the other hand, ahu cultivation requires
continuous weeding until harvesting. As ahu fields are mostly
situated in the forested submontane and riverine belts, the crops are
exposed to wild animals or to untimely floods. Hence they are ver>
much uncertain. Moreover, the yield of ahu rice is small and its
quality inferior as compared to sali. Again, experiments have shown
that if sali is sown broadcast, its yield decreases by about eleven per
cent or so.
The third variety of rice, known as bao, is suited to natural marshes
and sometimes does not require any ploughing at all before sowing.
Bao rice is generally sown broadcast. It matures late and its harvesting
time coincides with that of sali. Like ahu, bao also gives per unit of
land a lesser yield than sali. Moreover in case of sowing broadcast, the
practice associated with ahu and bao, the seed requirement is at least
twice as high as that for transplanted sali. Under the circumstances, the
spread of sali cultivation, at the cost of the two other varieties of rice,
may be taken as a progressive trend in agriculture. It involves
crystallization of a large amount of labour into fixed capital. This point
THE XAI MIGRATION AND ITS IMPACT 65
will be taken up again. What now follows is an account of Ahom

colonization of Upper Assam and how it encouraged this trend.
A h o m C o l o n iz a t io n o f U pper A ssa m
The Ahoms contained themselves in the tract east of the Nam dang
river and south of the Dihing for about three hundered years to avoid
any serious clashes with the Chutiya and Kachari kingdoms. By far
the greatest portion of this habitat was more or less liable to heavy
inundations. Hence arose the need to guard the rivers by embankments.
Moran and Borahi tribes, however, were subdued and progressively
assimilated during this period. The Borahis became altogether extinct
as a separate tribe, but a section of the Morans managed to survive in
remote jungles of the present district of Dibrugarh as late as the census
of 1891.
T he valley Shans', says Leach while discussing the culture
contacts between Shans and Kachins in Burma, 'ha^p everywhere for
centuries past, been assimilating their hill neighbours ' . 7 The same
process took place in Upper Assam through the Ahomization of the
Moran and Borahi tribes and later, even of sections of the Chutiyas.
This went on until the Ahoms themselves, along with those
Ahomized, were converted to Hinduism during the period from the
sixteenth to the seventeenth century. In Ahom as well as Northern
Shan language, kha is a contemptuous term meaning 'slave', ’savage’
or 'foreigner'. Autochthons of Upper Assam were described as kha. For
example, the Borahi and the Miri (Mishing) tribes were respectively
known as kha-lang and kha-kanglai. But the chronicles provide ample
instances of a kha becoming an Ahom. Thereby a non-Ahom adopted
the Shan (Tai) culture, the very essence of which in the words of
anthropologist von Eickstedt, was "association with wet rice
cultivation’’.8
The closely allied Moran and Borahi tribes practised shifting culti
vation in the thirteenth century. No specific mention of this fact is
made in early chronicles. But, if all the scant information available
from early and late sources are pieced together, it cannot but lead to
this conclusion. They lived in a sparesely-populated wild territory.
Their number was estimated by Sukapha’s (1228-68) men at about four
thousand in the area explored by the latter. The initial tributes offered
to the Ahom conquerors as a token of their submission indicated the
backward state of their economy. Their tribute consisted of firewood, a
kind of edible tuber, edible arum roots and an edible fern known as
dhenkia which are mostly gathered, and not cultivated, to this day. An
Ahom chronicle makes a mention of even the supply of brinjals from a

Moran (Matak) family to Sukapha. But about any tribute from them in
the form of rice or paddy, the chronicles are uniformly silent. This
however suggests only the existence of a deficient and inferior rice-
economy, and not its total absence amongst the said tribes. For,
described as they are by the chroniclers as consumers of rice-beer, they
must have produced some rice. As, according to an old chronicle, they
were dressed in scant cotton dhotis, it is likely that they produced
cotton as well.9
The above reconstructed picture of the primitive agriculture of the
Moran and Borahi tribes is corroborated by the evidence of an early-
nineteenth-century British administrator. In 1839, Hannay found a
section of the Morans of the wild interior still practising shifting
cultivation. He observed:
T h eir lands are high, and their cultivation is 'ahoo' crop o f rice, once a
year, and large crops o f cotton and sugar-cane but on account o f scantiness
o f the population, com pared to the extent o f land capable o f cultivation,
their villages are scattered and the inhabitants are constantly emigrating to
new sites, for the sake o f richer and newer lands. T here is com paratively
little tree jungle in consequence o f this system having existed for ages, the
jungle being grass and hollow bam boos.'10
The mode of agriculture which survived amongst only a section of
the Morans appears to have been the general feature of their economy
from the thirteenth to the fifteenth century. With progressive
Ahomization and later, Hinduization under the teachings of Aniruddha-
dev the area of shifting cultivation amongst them went on
continuously shrinking. At the close of the nineteenth century only
1.5 per cent of the settled areas in the then Dibrugarh subdivision were
reported to be under shifting cultivation. But meanwhile the ethnic
composition of the population had also substantially changed.
The early Morans and Borahis, therefore, appear to have been
producers of ahu rice with slash-and-bum methods. They could hardly
have any surplus rice over and above their subsistence. As better rice-
farmers, the Ahom conquerors devoted themselves to wet rice (salt)
cultivation and depended on the conquered for other kinds of tributes
and services. Chroniclers credit Sukapha with the establishment of
three royal Khats (farm or estate) through reclamation with the labour
of the Moran servitors. One of these farms, the Gachikala Khat, was
to supply provisions for worship of deities ; the second called Bara-
Khowa Khat for ancestral rites of the king ; and the third, the Engera
Khat, for the royal household.11 On the farms of the Ahom king and
his nobles, the autochthons were soon engaged to work as serfs. Such
Assamese words as bahatia and khatowal stand for serfs attached to

farms. Upper Assam abounds with such place-names as Madarkhat,
Tengakhat, Khatowalgaon, Bahatiyagaon, etc., which are reminiscent
of the medieval serfdom. 'Every portion south and north of the Dibroo,
with the exception of the Moran tract’, reported Hannay in 1839, ’was
occupied by the khatowals of the Rajahs of Assam.’12 By ’Moran tract’
Hannay obviously meant the interiormost region inhabited by the
surviving Morans where Ahom administration could hardly penetrate.
In Sukapha’s times some of the Moran and Borahi families had to
supply fuel-wood to the royal household or to look after the royal
gardens. Others were engaged as hewers of wood, cooks, potters,
medicine-men, valets, store-keepers and poultry-keepers. The Morans
were later organized into several functional groups. One such group
supplied the Ahom state with elephants and ivory ; another with wild
vegetable dyes ; a third one, with honey. Their very functions
suggested that these sections were forest-dwellers. A section of the
Morans (Kapahia) dwelling outside forests was entrusted with growing
cotton for supply to the ladies of the royal household.13
It may be assumed that the bulk of the Morans and Borahis
gradually adopted the wet-rice culture of the migrant Ahoms and
merged with the latter in course of a few generations. Only a small
section stubbornly clung to their old practice at least till 1839.
S o c io l o g y o f C u l t u r a l P r a c t ic e s
A scrutiny of the 1881 census of Assam suggests that almost half

of the indigenous population of the valley consisted of non-Hindu and
erstwhile tribes who had been converted only in course of the preceding
two centuries or so. The Bodo-Kachari ethnic group alone accounted for
some forty per cent of the total indigenous population of the
Brahmaputra valley in 1881. This ethnic element then, in all
likelihood, must have been even more prominent in the medieval
times.
The Bodo-Kacharis of today are mostly found on submontane tracts
and low hills of north-east India. During the medieval times also, this
distribution pattern of population was not much different The Bodo-
Kacharis preferred to remain at a safe distance from the periodically
inundated areas near the Brahmaputra and kept close to the hill-streams.
Because of their early initiation to artificial irrigation, they were more
independent of the rainfall than others. The narrow valleys of the
Kopili, Jamuna and Dhansiri rivers where the annual rainfall is poorest
in Assam (only fourtyfive to sixty inches) formed the core of the
Kachan kingdom during the late Ahom period. But they were also
living in heavy-rainfall areas. It appears that at the time of the Ahom
immigration the bulk of the Bodo-Kachari and allied tribes were
shifting cultivators and farmers of ahu rice. Nonetheless, their farming
techniques were superior to those of the Moran and Borahi tribes who
were ignorant of artificial irrigation.
At the time of Sukapha's exploration of the valley, 'the country
round Dihing,' the sparsely-populated habitat of the Morans and
Borahis, 'was uncultivated and wild'.14 But it was not so with the
Namoang valley then inhabited by the Kacharis. The impressive
sight of 3,300 ghats on the river gave Sukapha an idea of the
numerous Kachari population in the neighbourhood.15 Their settlement
in the upper valley of the Paimali river alone was said to have a
population of about 12,000.16 These figures may not be taken at their
face value, but they undoubtedly suggest that the early Ahoms
were impressed by the numerical strength of their Kachari neighbours.
How was this population fed if they were not possessed of an
agricultural practice superior to that of the less numerous Borahis and
Morans ?
By the thirteenth century, some Kachari communities appear to
have already developed their peculiar form of irrigated rice cultivation
in the submontane regions. There is an oblique reference in an old
Assamese chronicle to the damming of a hill-stream by a cattle-owning
Kachari tribe in the thirteenth century. The chief of the Borahi tribe is
recorded to have complained to Sukapha as follows: 'The Paimali river
has emerged out of the mountain. It does not flow since the Kacharis
began to wash their cattle and pigs (there). '17 The complaint appears to
have been against the same Kachari practice, as is found today, of
damming a hill-stream several miles above the point at which the
water-supply is required for the rice fields. Even today in areas
inhabited by Bodo-Kachari tribes, several villages often combine to
construct dongs (irrigation channels) up to several miles long. A dong
is constructed to lead water from above the dam to a particular area
where rice fields are situated.
It was the irrigated rice cultivation of the Kachari tribe which laid
the basis of their early slate formation. But their knowledge of
irrigation and of domestication of cattle did not necessarily mean that
they were using ploughs, nor did it mean that a large number of the
K? haris had taken to settled agriculture. All evidence is to the
contrary. Around 1809, for example, the Kacharis of Sidli and Bijni
were still hoe cultivators. The Kachari Communities constantly
retreated in the early decades of their confrontation with the Ahom
♦
immigrants without much resistance. This fact is perfectly in line with

the general migratory habit of all Bodo-Kachari tribes who have been
seen to leave old settlements for new ones at the slightest disturbance
even in recent times. The thirteenth-century Kachari community of
Paimali valley also did not hesitate to leave their irrigated sites on the
mere approach of the Ahoms.18 They did not behave like a stable,
settled population.
Hence probably the Kacharis did not generally use the plough in the
thirteenth century. Hoe cultivation as well as shifting plough
cultivation coexisted almost with equal force in the nineteenth century
amongst various Bodo-Kachari tribes of the valley. This can be firmly
said on the evidences of Buchanan-Hamilton (1807-14), Fisher (1833),
Hodgson (1847), Dalton (1872) and others.19 The current agricultural
practices of the Apatanis of Arunachal and the Khasi tribes of
Meghalaya demonstrate that fairly efficient wet-rice cultivation,
transplanted or sown, could be carried on even with hoes.20 The
Meches, a Bodo-Kachari tribe of Assam-Bengal border,were reported in
187S to 'go in for artificial irrigation in a surprising manner' and yet
'find the proximity of permanent cultivation not congenial to their own
habits.' They were in that year still undergoing transition from hoe
culture to the use of ploughs through contacts with their more
advanced neighbours21, the Rajbansis (Koch) who were earlier
converts to Hinduism from the same Bodo-Kachari stock.
So in the early years of British administration in Assam most of
the various Bodo-Kachari communities of the valley were either using
hoes or were passing through a transition from hoe to plough. They
were canying on shifting cultivation in some form or other. The only
exceptions to this were thr well-settled Kachari villages of Upper
Assam who had adopted the plough and sali rice culture side by side
with ahu quite early. So it will not be incorrect to say that the use of
plough, if any, by the Bodo-Kachari people in the thirteenth century
was insignificant Even when the plough was adopted, it did not mean
an end to the system of shifting cultivation. Their rice economy was
dominated by ahu crop, and ahu lands were suited to shifting
cultivation. On the other hand, the scope of cultivating wet-rice in
their submontane habitat was extremely limited by the topographical
conditions. Most of the undulating lands in such regions—the faringati
or dry crop land—required fallowing after every three years or so of
continuous cultivation. Hence, the habit of shifting cultivation
stubbornly persisted under conditions of land abundance.
This point may be further elaborated. Slope is an important factor
in the cultivation of rice. Wet-rice grows on those lands which can
either be artificially flooded from the adjacent streams or be reduced to a

dead level so that it can retain the rain-water deposited. In natural
conditions most of the lands in the submontane and the riverine belts
of the valley are not suited to wet rice. It is ahu rice which is grown on
such lands. But much of the lands on which ahu crop is raised, as
observed by W. Robinson (1841), could be converted into rupit (i.e.
transplanted salí) land by careful husbandry and paying attention to
levelling and draining'.22 In this respect, the Ahoms had a definite
superiority over their neighbours. The Bodo-Kacharis, having a
preference for the submontane tract, did not undertake reclamation of
the low-lying flat lands of the ewe of the valley. Nor did they take any
particular care to level up their undulating or sloping fields. But the
Ahoms did both. They had better organization and better iron
implements to do the job.23 They had the habit of taking much care to
levelling up farmsites. As an example, a casual mention in a chronicle
of such levelling-up activity in the royal farm Jaykhamdang in the
early seventeenth century may be cited.24 It was during the several
centuries of Ahom rule that much of Upper Assam was turned into a
flat level land. 'In this country they make the surface of field and
gardens so level', wrote Shihabuddin Talish around 1663, 'that the eye
cannot find the least elevation in it up to the extreme horizon*25 The
Ahom administration had built hundreds of miles of embankments
with a view to increasing the extent of wet rice cultivation.
We may now conclude that in the thirteenth century while wet rice
culture was traditional with the Ahoms, the tribal population of the
valley including the Bodo-Kacharis, were associated with the ahu crop.
Under slash-and-bum methods, it could have been grown even without
hoeing or ploughing, like 'hill rice' in some hilly areas of today. But
we have no exact knowlege in this respect. In later times ploughs were
extensively used on the ahu fields, but under a shifting type of
cultivation as described by Butler. This tribal tradition of shifting
cultivation was continued for long obviously also by those Hindu
agricultural communities who were converts from the Bodo-Kachari
tribes. Even their advanced neighbours did supplement their settled
agriculture with this form of cultivation in Lower Assam. This
happened despite the age-old process of Hinduization which involved a
gradual economic transformation of the tribes. The process of
acculturation was not really a mere one-way traffic.
Shifting cultivation goes with the ahu, and not with the sali variety
of rice. Sali is transplanted while ahu and bao are generally sown
broadcast. Under conditions of dong irrigation of the Bodo-Kacharis,
ahu is also transplanted. However, transplanted ahu or kharma -ahu is
cultivated to a limited extent Ahu is sometimes sown broadcast even
on wet lands. It is then called asra-ahu. But both kharma-ahu and asra-
ahu are less productive than dhulia-ahu which is sown in dry pulverised
fields. Cultivation of ahu, however, is almost universal with all
agricultural communities over a greater part of the valley under
geographic compulsion. Only its extent varies from area to area. But
the geographic compulsions as such are not insurmountable, as was
pointed out by Robinson. All these details are given here to facilitate
the understanding of the sociological background of the relevant
cultural practices , even at the risk of repetition.
Table 4.1 suggests one interesting thing. As one moves from the
district of Sibsagar, the cradle and core of the Ahom dominion in the
eastern extremity of the valley—towards the west or towards the
north— one finds that the importance of sali in the total rice crop goes
on decreasing. This is no doubt largely a result of the given
topographical conditions. But apparently the sociological factors also
had a role. Topographically, the valley can be divided into three east-
west belts : (a) the submontane tracts, (b) the riverine tracts of the
Brahmaputra, and (c) the low-lying fields dotted with elevated housing
and garden sites in the flat core of the valley. These three belts pass
through all the relevant districts. Yet the percentages of the total rice
lands under sali in the Sibsagar and Lakhimpur districts are the highest,
being ninetytwo per cent and eightyfive per cent respectively, as of
1901-2 (see Table 4.1). It was in these districts that about ninety-four
per cent of the Ahom population of the valley was concentrated in the
last century. In Sibsagar subdivision alone, for which we have no
breakdown data and where the Ahoms formed an absolute majority, the
percentage of sali to all rice lands was still higher, may be, almost
Mr
one hundred per cent. Of the two subdivisions of the then Lakhimpur
district, Dibrugarh was adjacent to the subdivision of Sibsagar.
Dibrugarh had 98‘5 per cent of its settled areas under permanent
cultivation while North Lakhimpur, situated on the other side of the
Brahmaputra, had only 61 per cent of its settled areas under such
cultivation. North Lakhimpur, like Kamrup and Goalpara, had hardly
any Ahom population till the census of 1881.26
TABLE 4.1
Rice Economy o f Assam : 1901-2
__________________________ (Area in 1000 acres)
Total Acreage under each variety o f rice Estimated normal returns
acreage in lb. per acre
District iwider
Rice A hu+ Bat? Soli Ahu . Bao Soli
Goalpara n.a. n.a. n.a. n.a. 850 n.a. 1000

Kamrup 420 124(30) 85 211(50) 800 650 900
Darrang 195 36(18) 8 151(77) 850 n.a. 1000
Nowgong 144 42(29) 30 72(50) 800 700 1000
Sibsagar 308 23(7) 2 283(92) 750 n.a. 800
Lakhimpur 127 17(13) 2 108(85) 800 n.a. 1000
Figures within brackets denote percentages of total rice acreage of respective districts.
* 67 per cent of all bao was sown in Kamrup, and only 3 per cent in Lakhimpur and
Sibsagar districts.
+Ahu in Sibsagar district was largely cultivated by the Miri (Mishing) tribe on
Majuli island.
SOURCE : An Account o f the Province o f Assam 1901-82 [40] pp. 23 and 26.
In Darrang seventy-seven per cent and in Nowgong and Kamrup

fifty per cent of all ricelands were under sali (see Table 4.1 ). This
distributional pattern of the rice crop is significant from the point of
view of economic history. The significance lies in the fact that the
yield of sali is fifty to two hundred pounds higher than that of ahu or
bao rice per acre of cultivated land (Table 4 ' 1). Further, sali cultivation
involves, more than 50 percent economy in the seed-rate and even a
greater economy in the use of land. It is no surprise that the sali-
oriented agriculture of the Ahoms in Upper Assam yielded a higher
surplus than the largely ahv-oriented cultivation of others. I have tried
to establish that in medieval times the Kacharis and other tribals by
and large practised shifting cultivation of ahu and were more used to
sowing broadcast then to transplanting. But sali cultivation with its
technique of transplantation gradually spread amongst them through
their deepening contacts with the process of Sanskritization from the
west and with the expanding Ahom administration from the east. As to
the agrarian evolution of the Chutiya tribe nothing can be firmly
stated. The Chutiya kingdom was situated in a heavy-rainfall area (100
to 120 inches) criss-crossed with shallow hill-streams. They came
under Hindu influence even before they were conquered by the Ahoms.
Most probably, like the allied Kachan tribe, they had also initially an
ahu rice culture. We have already mentioned that even as late as the
close of the last century, 39 per cent of the settled areas of the then
North Lakhimpur subdivision—part of their original habitat—
accounted for shifting cultivation. There is no tangible evidence that
the Chutiyas had any ingenuity to overcome the topographical
compulsion in earlier times.27 It may, therefore, be assumed that they
were more or less in the same stage of agricultural development as that
of the Kacharis at the time of Ahom migration. However, they reached
the stage of state formation earlier than the Kacharis.
A h o m c o n t r ib u t io n t o t h e R ic e c u l t u r e o f A ss a m
To say that wet rice (sali) cultivation was the essence of Shan
culture does not mean that it was not there in Assam before. The
Brahmaputra valley was already a rich rice bowl supporting the big
Kamarupa empire of olden times. Such an empire could not have been
possible without a substantial economic surplus from its rice fields,
Sali cultivation in the Assam plains was at least as old as the process
of Sanskritization itself. There is ample evidence for that. But in
contrast to Upper Assam under the Ahoms, Lower Assam had never
such extensive community investments in the form of man-made
embankments and dykes as could have converted much of ahu and boo
lands into sali fields. In 1841 Robinson observed that much valuable
land there—then covered by reeds or abandoned owing to periodic
floods—might be recovered by adopting a general system of bunds.
■Nearly every stream in Upper Assam' he wrote 'was anciently bunded'28
Wet-rice culture in Lower Assam was limited by the extent of the
flat terrain. The growing Sanskritization did not prove to be a factor
encouraging either lift irrigation—it was not so necessary in rain-rich
Assam—or water control by large-scale dyke-building. Fifty per cent of
rice lands in 1901-2, were under ahu or bao crops (Table 4.1) and
shifting cultivation survived in the former district of Kamrup, the
ancient seat of civilization. 29 Obviously the assimilated tribal
elements within the Hindu society there were still obstinately clinging
to some of their traditional habits. The Ahom rule of about two
hundred years there (17th-18th centuries), frequently interrupted as it
was, did not obviously have an impact on the local rice economy.
But in Upper Assam the story was different. From the very
beginning the Ahom state treated all wet-rice lands, but not the other
lands and housesites, as a common national pool. From out of this
Gaurisagar
o Charingiagaon
Fort............. 'V C iS I
Tank............ [□
Rivers..........
Villages........ o
Outer mud %tTH]77??C
embankment
o f
of Gargaon T»mn^
Roads..........
o 2 Miles
L. -I D»'
TABLE 4.2
Distribution o f Indigenous Population Groups in Assam Proper: 1901
Indigenous population groups Sibsaear Lakhimpur D a m n s* * Noweone Kamruo
No. % No. % No. % No. % No. %
Bodo-Kachari tribes uninflu
enced by Hinduism or in the
process of conversion (Kachan,
Mech, Lalung, Hojai, Garo,
Rabha, M ah alia, etc.) 17,656 (5 3) 24,222 (157) 88,624 (36 7) 65,063 (209) 126,704 (23 2)
Miri and Mikir tribes 16,723 (5 0) 18,640 (121) 5,111 (25) 48,124 (160) 13,813 (25)
Moran 1,676 (05) 4,130 (27) ------- ------- -------
Koch/Rajbangsi 25,808 (77) 6,243 (40) 54,338 (225) 49,907 (160) 99,973 (183)
Chutiya* 54,587 (164) 17,206 (11*2) 3,546 (1'5) 10,468 (3 4) 1,036 (02)
Ahom and other Shan elements 99,129 (29 7) 50,410 (327) 3,136 (1'3) 5,265 (1*7) 475 -------
Kalita 34,475 (103) 4,694 (30) 19,470 (80) 24,034 (77) 129,939 c22'7)
Dom/Nadial 23,564 12,185 7,988 26,223 14,826
Kaibarta 587 522 246 97 22,468
Kewat/(Mahisya) 20,615 2,457 14,239 20,553 37,239
Kayastha 3,442 1,088 1,301 2,656 4,207
Brahman 12,177 (251) 2,465 (186) 4,741 (275) 7,430 (343) 24,738 (331)
Ganak (Daivajna) 2.081 170 8,121 348 5,967
Saha/Sunri 475 212 574 1,009 16,423
Jugi/Katani 8,622 3,162 19,957 22,076 17,484
Other indigenous tribes/castes 11.839 6,138 9,593 27,171 34.926
Total indigenous population
(1608,257) 333,456 (100) 153,944 (100) 240.985 (100) 310,424 (100) 545,218 (100)
Indigenous population as % of
total district population (1891) 73 8% 60'5% 78 2% 90'2% 85 9%
Figures within brackets denote the population of each group as percentages of the indigenous population of the respective districts.
* The Chutiya community was so much influenced by the Ahoms that many of them described themselves as Ahom-Chutiya, thus
creating a problem for the census enumerators.
** Of the old Darrang District, Tezpur subdivision might be taken as part of Upper Assam, and Mangaldai subdivision as part of Lower
Assam. The Bodo-Kacharis of the district were mainly concentrated in the latter subdivision. [40]
SOURCE¡Estimate by B. C. Allen in Subsidiary Table-3, Assam Census Report, 1901 [40] pp, 29-30 (Adapted).
The Ahoms also showed remarkable wisdom in avoiding the

heavily flooded banks of the Brahmaputra, while selecting the site for
their settlements. Although the Brahmaputra contains a large quantity
of matter in suspension, its overflow deposits only the sand in Assam,
while the rich silt is carried off by the strong currents to the plains of
Bengal. Sukapha made a wise choice of the banks of the river Santak
for settling down because he 'found that equal quantity of the water of
the river weighed twice that of the Dikhou river.33 It is from there that
the Ahoms spread themselves all over the low-lying flat plains of
Sibsagar and adjacent areas. In the seventeenth century even
organized colonies of mixed population were planted at state initiative
at far ends of the dominion.34
In this way their wet rice culture was spread in new areas.
Finally, it may be noted that one of the dozens of sali varieties in
Assam today is known as Ahom sali. It is one of the most high-
yielding varieties, and was developed recently as a selected seed strain
(Strain S.L. 70) with an yield of more than 3,000 lbf.per acre, in
suitable conditions, by the Department of Agriculture, Assam. It
might have originated amongst the Ahom cultivators, but the
supporting evidence is yet inconclusive. Another glutinous variety of
sali, known as bora, used to be produced in one of the three royal farms
of Sukapha even as far back as the thirteenth century.35 The Ahom
word for this rice, khao-nung, is almost the same as the Thai word,
khao-nieo, in Thailand.36 This indicates early association of this
variety in Assam with the Ahoms.
Taking all facts and circumstances into consideration, one cannot
but conclude that the Ahom migration and their administration were
primarily responsible for the spread of sali cultivation in the eastern
half of the Brahmaputra valley. The high yield of sali crop enabled the
initial nine thousand or so of Ahom population to multiply rapidly by
ensuring enough supply of food. By the middle of the eighteenth
century their number increased to about two lakhs, i.e. to an estimated
nine per cent or so of the total population in their dominion. The
existence of a substantial surplus helped the Ahom state not only to
subjugate the Chutiya, Kachari and Koch powers in the Brahmaputra
valley, but also to confront successfully the Mughal invaders for a
prolonged period during the seventeenth century. Their capacity to
build up a network of embankment works for controlling the
distribution of flood and rain water in a desirable way over a
considerable area was the key factor on which their rice economy
thrived.
S um mary
Of the three varieties of rice~ahu, bao and sali—grown in the

Brahmaputra valley of Assam sali is the most productive. Its yield is
the highest per unit of cultivated land as well as per unit of seed input.
It is associated with the technique of transplantation and requires low-
lying level fields to hold rain or flood water. The production of sali
therefore, is limited to the extent of such terrain. In contrast to the
valley’s relatively higher lands (faringati) suitable for dry crops, the
low-lying level lands are annually rejuvenated by silt-rich floods.
Consequently they require no fallowing. Any increase in the extent of
such lands for sali cultivation, is therefore an indicator of agricultural
progress.
Wet rice culture is traditional with the Ahoms. Their migration to
Assam from the east in the thirteenth century and subsequent
expansion of their rule positively encouraged the extension of sali
cultivation in Upper Assam. They built with communal labour a
system of massive dykes and embankments unparallelled elsewhere in
India. Through this device, the distribution of flood water was
controlled in such a manner as to transform much of existing ahu and
bao lands into fields suitable for the sali crop. In other words, Ahom
initiative and administrative measures progressively provided for huge
public investments in land improvement.
As one moves from the cradle and core of the erstwhile Ahom
dominion in its eastern extremity towards the west or to the north one
finds that the importance of sali in the rice crop pattern of the valley
goes on diminishing. This suggests some correlation, though not
measurable, between the influence of the Ahoms and the importance of
sali in the valley's crop-pattem. Lower Assam where Ahom influence
had been the least both politically and sociologically, never had there
been any system of massive embankments and dykes as found in Upper
Assam. This is certainly one of the reasons why sali crop today is
more widespread in Upper Assam than in Lower Assam. Had the
topographical limitations of the rice lands in Lower Assam been
partially overcome as in the Ahom sphere of influence, sali cultivation
would have been widespread there too.
Notes
1. According to Reverend Endle the Bodot Kachari, Mech, Rabha, Dimasa, Hojai,
Hajong, Lalung and Garo tribes have so much in common that they may be
grouped together as the Bodo-Kacharis. The Chutiya, Moran and Borahi tribes are
also supposed to bear close affinities to the group: Endle, The Kacharis [142], 5.
2. Sharma, Inscriptions o f Ancient Assam [2], 159.
3. Fitzsimmons, ed., Thailand [143], 59-60.
4. For a brief comparative vocabulary, Grierson, Linguistic Survey o f India, Vol. 2

[155], 127-40.
5. Quote from Ahom-Buranji, tr Barua [23], 10. Emphasis ours.
6. Quote from Butler, Sketch o f Assam [132], 21-3 (emphasis ours). It was the use .
of the plough which distinguished this form of shifting cultivation from what is
known as swidden or jhum cultivation. The latter is associated with such tools as
the dao, hoe and digging stick.
7. Leach, Political Systems o f Highland Burma [168], 41.
8. Von Eickstedt quoted ibid, 37.
9. Relevant data in this paragraph are collated from Asam Buranji,cdBhuyan [11],
5 ; Ahom-Buranji [23], 38 ; Dhekial-Phukkan, Asam Buranji [22], 49 ; Deodhai
Asam Buranji [12], 100-102.
10. Quote from Hannay to Jenkins, Sadiya, 4 April 1839, Foreign Pol. Proc. [35],
14 August 1839, No. 105. Emphasis ours.
11. Tamuli-Phukan, Asam Buranji Sar [20], 10. The mention of sali cultivation by
chroniclers goes as far back as Sukapha’s rule (1228-68). Deodhai Asam Buranji,
[ 12], 8.
12. Quote from Hannay to Jenkins, Sadiya. 4 April 1839, Foreign Pol. Proc. [35],
13. Endle [142], 87 ; Hannay, JASB, VoL 7 [94], 675.
14. Quotes from Wade, An Account o f Assam [24], 18.
15. Ahom-Buranji [23], 46.
16. Deodhai Asam Buranji [12], 101.
17. For quote, ibid, 100.
18. Ibid, 101.

19. Buchanan Hamilton, An Account o f Assam, First Compiled in 7507-74(38],73 ;

extract from his account of Rangpur reproduced in Census of 1951, West Bengal
District Handbooks, Jalpaiguri [105), cxxxvi to cxxxix ; Fisher to Robertson on
Dharampur, Cachar, 12 March 1833, Foreign Pol. Proc. [35), 6 June 1833, No.
107 ; Hodgson, Essay the F irst...[82], 146-7, 154-6 and 180 ; Dalton,
Descriptive Ethnology o f Bengal [139], 81 ; Ashley Eden’s report dated 1864,
Political Missions to Bootam [69], 61 ; Baden-Powell, Land Systems o f British
India, Vol. 3 [75], 417-18.
20. Furer-Haimendorf, The Apatanis and Their Neighbours [146], 13 ; Gurdon, The
K hasis [162], 39-40.
21. Col. Money, Deputy Commissioner of Jalpaiguri on the Mech, quoted in

Census of 1951, West Bengal District Handbooks, Jalpaiguri [105], Appendix
IV.
22. Quote from Robinson, A Descriptive Account o f Assam [183], 88.
23. See above "Land Rights and Social Classes" in this volume.
24. Asam Buranji Sar [20], 28. A sloping site might have been found all right for
settlement by its former occupants, but not so by the newcomers, the Ahoms.
This is suggested by the extant Tai place-name nazira (na=field ; zi=slanting ; ra*
much). Sarbananda Rajkumars note, LikPhan Tai, Vol. I [206], 83.
25. Quote from Talish, Fathiya iibriya, tr. Sarkar; JB O R Syol. 1 [99], 179-94.
26. Census of India, 1881, Assam Census Report [104], Ch. VI, 65. For the extent
of shifting and permanent cultivation Allen, Assam Prov. District Gazetteers
[101], VD3— 148 and 251.
27. Ibid, 251.
28. Robinson, [183], 222.
29. For example, in the then subdivision of Barpeta, 50 per cent of the settled areas
were under shifting plough cultivativation. However, as a result of large-scale
immigration from East Bengal, the subdivision later recorded a 700 per cent
increase in permanent cultivation during 1911-30. Report, Assam Prov. Banking
Enquiry Committee, 1929-30, Vol. 1 [65], 23, Allen, Assam Prov. District
Gazetteers [101], 199.
30. Quote from Robinson [183], 317. Emphasis ours.

31. Jenkins to Secy., Pol. Dept,. 22 July 1833, Foreign Pol. Proc. [35], 11 Feb.
1835, No. 90, Ptra 53. Emphasis ours.
32. For example, Asam Buranji Sar [20],17,23,26-7,32 and 41.
33. Ahom-Buranji [23], 46.
34. Deodhai Asam Buranji [12], 70,130-1; Barbarua, TungkJmngia Buranji [15], 23.
35. Asam Buranji Sar [20], 10.
36. Pendleton, Thailand [182], 159.

5
From Tribalism to Feudalism:
1600-1750
E a r l y S t a t e F o r m a t io n : P r e - A h o m R o o t s
Surely the Ahom political system was not a wholesale

importation, nor was it entirely an autonomous growth in Assam. It
did have certain pre-Ahom elements, taken from the civilization rooted
in the region during the days of the ancient State of Kamarupa. While
highlighting the political changes under the Ahom rule, continuity as a
factor is not to be lost sight of altogether, though this aspect is not
elaborated hoe. While assimilation to Indo-Aryan ways of life in the
Ahom dominion was slow in the three initial centuries, it reached a
turning point by the beginning of the sixteenth century. Thereafter, the
story was one of a relatively rapid assimilation and fusion in respect of
language, caste, religion, technology, etc., even though the Ahom
state continued to maintain many of its distinctive features.
Assamese society, though a segment of Indian society at large,
exhibited in course of its evolution several distinctive features not
shared by the latter. The multi-caste village community based on
jajamani relations was unknown to Assam. There was no urbanization
at all. The number of specialized castes remained extremely limited and
the division of labour minimal. Weaving of cloth was generally carried
on in all households by women irrespective of their caste status. The
revenue system was based on a corvee payable to the state. Besides, the
use of slaves and serfs in agriculture was of more than marginal
importance. All these distinctive features indicate the continually
inhibiting influence of tribalism on the evolution of medieval
Assamese society.
Several tribal state formations1 alongside of a fragmented political
system known as the bhuyan-raj flourished during the thirteenth-
sixteenth centuries. The term bhuyan or bhaumik is etymologically
FROM TRIBALISM TO FEUDALISM : 1600-1750 83
derived from bhumi meaning land and signified a landowner or land-

con trailer. A caste-differentiated Assamese-speaking people under the
Bhuyans formed the core of the society and coexisted with numerous
tribal settlements representing diverse languages and uneven levels of
cultural development
The Bhuyans often grouped themselves together locality-wise either
under the hegemony of an overlord (bar-raja) or formed a confederacy
(bara-bhuyan) headed by a chief (shiromcmi) Bhuyan. Petty kings craved
for the tide of 'Kameskwar' (Lord of Kamarupa) and still more for the
tide of "panchaGaudeskwar" (lord of the five Gaudas). 'When such a
claimant was strong enough, the neighbouring Bhuyans recognized
him as their liege-lord and paid personal homage at his court.
Otherwise they remained independent Most of the Bhuyans were
Kayastha by caste; others belonged to Brahman, Daivajna and Kalita
(a dominant peasant caste) castes. Some were of local royal descent;
others, particularly the Kayasthas, were often migrant-adventurers from
north India. Various surnames used by them such as bhuyan, giri, ray,
dalai (dalapati) and khan sugget that they were a class of estate-holders
at the village level. They based their claims on erstwhile royal grants
of land along with serfs, and/or on their own armed prowess which was
needed to protect the villages from frequent tribal incursions.2
Thus the Bhuyans, big and small, appear to have constituted a
squirearchy which wielded hereditary political and economic power at
the intermediate and grass-root levels. Apparendy the hierarchy of the
power structure was at times vertically quite deep in the following
order;
pancha-gaudeshwar (Lord of five Gaudas)
kameskwar (Lord of Kamrupa)
bar-raja or chhota-raja
bar-bhuyan or shiromani bhuyan (mahagrameshwar)
sa.ru (minor) bhuyan or grameshwar (Lord of the village)
paik (free peasantry) and bandi-betUbahatia (slaves/serfs)
Even after their suppression by the expanding Koch and Ahom
states, the Bhuyans did not lose their local influence and were absorbed
into the lower echelons of the new machinery set up for corvee
collection (in the capacity of kakati, gomostha, thakuria, bara and
barua), for they constituted the traditional elite having a formal
education in arithmetic, the use of arms and scriptures (ankat, shastrat,
shastrat pargat). The syllabus of this formal education generally
included lessons in vyakarana, bharata, purana, bhagavata, nyaya, tarka
and kayasthika or kaitheli-vidya (i.e. arithmetic and mensuration).
Shankardev and Madhavadev—both Vaishnava preceptors of Kayastha
and Bhuyan descent, had this kind of education. So had Shankardev's

son.3
The Bhuyans in their heyday were mostly followers of the Shakti
cult Together with Shaivism and secretly practised Tantric-Buddhist
magic cults, it dominated the Assamese religious sphere. The
heterogeneous local tribal deities, mother-goddess cults and fertility
rites were all absorbed in the growing Hindu pantheon. The fragmented
semi-tribal political system and embryonic feudal relations within a
tribe were projected in the religious thought of Assam. Thus the cult
of the Ahoms integrated existing lord-vassal relations with such
concepts as heaven and earth, spirits and ancestors.3
The rudimentary Ahom state had at its base many agricultural
village (ban) settlements, each made up of a certain number of big or
small families belonging to different family-groups (foid). Each such
settlement had a well-defined territory including wet rice fields,
wastelands, forest tracts and house sites. Several such settlements
together formed an intermediate administrative unit or domain with one
of the village settlements as the headquarters (che) of the noblemen
governing it. At the apex of the several domains was the king who
appointed the nobles to their respective offices and could dismiss them
when necessary. The king could himself be removed by the council of
great nobles. The decentralized nature of the early Ahom state apparatus
was reflected in the Tai term for political rule : kin mung kin ban
mung, i.e, 'to eat country, to eat village’. By the term mung was
meant either the kingdom as a whole or any of its constituent chiefs'
domains. It originally signified a chiefs village or town governing the
surrounding territory. At the ban level all wet rice lands were
communal property, but were separately cultivated by family units.
The holders of wet rice lands had to render service to the community,
which in practice meant service to its nobles holding office at the state
and village levels for purposes of defence and public works. From the
thirteenth to the fifteenth century there was a complete absence of
minted money and the extent of trade was negligible. Thus the state
organization had a peculiar quasi-feudalistic structure. Neo-
Vaishnavism with its emphasis on a monistic world view, pacifism
and equality of all before God, could not easily penetrate such a
fragmented society until a basis was created for its further
consolidation.
G r o w t h o f t h e A h o m S t a t e a n d it s F e u d a l iz a t io n
If the sixteenth century dominated by the expanding Koch kingdom

was a formative period for Assamese society, the next one century and
a half was the period of its steady consolidation under the Ahoms. The
extension of plough at the cost of hoe cultivation and of wet at the
expense of dry ricelands alongside a general agricultural expansion—a
process that was going on for some time in Upper Assam—led to a
rapid increase in the surplus produced. The consequent rise in
population provided the Ahoms with the material base for their further
economic and political expansion. Fire-arms, introduced in the area
first in the 1530s, were increasingly put to use and, by the sixteen
sixties excellent gunpowder, matchlocks and cannon were manufactured
locally. Coins were for the first time struck by the Ahom, Koch and
Kachari kings during the years 1555-1648, though on a very modest
scale. Thus the earliest extant Koch coins bear a date equivalent to
A.D. 1555, but nearly a century passed before the first batch of extant
Ahom coins were struck. The continued use of cowries and Mughal
coins was supplemented from the mid - seventeenth century onwards
by frequent local minting. This indicated a slow growth of the market in
Upper Assam. In 1662 there was only one narrow bazar road in the
Ahom capital, and the only traders in that bazar were the betel-leaf
sellers. 'It was not the practice', reported Shihabuddin Talish, 'to buy
and sell food in the market-place. The inhabitants store in their house
one year's supply of food of all kinds and are under no necessity to buy
or sell any eatable'.6 However, by 1739 we find prices of various
foodstuff being quoted in a copper plate grant. This suggests a change
in the situation, which is corroborated by the fact that the Ahom mint
was constantly at work, and silver coins of smaller denomination were
being increasingly issued from the close of the seventeenth century.7
During the seventeenth century some new crops such as tobacco,
chilly and pineapples8 and new crafts such as brass metal casting were
introduced. To meet the needs of the expanding population salt and
saltpetre had to be increasingly imported from Mughal India mainly
against the export of forest products, mustard-seeds, inferior gold
extracted from sand-washing and muga silk. Surplus rice, dried fish and
handloom manufactures of the plains were offered in exchange for raw
cotton, lump iron, rock-salt and forest products from the surrounding
hills . Traders of Lower Assam carried on trade by river within and
beyond Assam on a modest scale during the sixteenth-seventeenth
centuries.
The basic structure of the Ahom state was undergoing slow changes
towards a centralization of the corvee and political authority. The man
power available for rendering service was of two broad categories : (i)
chamua paik, i.e., those hable to render non-manual service or allowed
to contribute a share of their produce in lieu thereof and (ii) kanri paik,
i.e., those liable to render manual service as ordinary soldiers and
labourers. Both categories were grouped in manageable divisions (dagi),
further grouped village-wise and/or function-wise according to
convenience. The paiks came in rotation for active service in their
respective units.9 Three or four of them, all presumably belonging to
an extended family or at least common neighbourhood, were expected
to complete between them a man-year of unpaid service. This is
evident from the fact that a man-power census was taken in 1510 and
that the royal demand for corvee during Suklenmung's reign (1539-52)
was set at ’one man for every four (e-poa) per household'. However, the
system had its loose ends. ’Some Ahoms complied with, some did not.
Only the conquered subjects', a chronicler commented, 'perform
whatever work is given to them'.10 Obviously the rudimentary state as
an organ of coercion vis-a-vis the dominant tribe was underdeveloped in
the sixteenth century.
The militia or the man-power pool was made up of all adult males,
Ahoms as well as non-Ahoms, in the sixteen-to-sixty age-group with
the exception of the members of the nobility, priests, slaves and
attached serfs. The tribal Jhum cultivators of frontier tracts were also
generally excluded. The militia constituted the army in times of war. In
times of peace it was engaged in various public works such as dam-
building, land-reclamation and water control; it was also in part made
available to the royal family and the office-holding nobility for private
work on their big farms. Those kanri paiks whose unpaid service was
thus allotted to the office-holders—the latter received no salaries—were
called lik'chou (personal retainers).
Every household customarily possessed three types of land : (i) a
homestead plot surrrounded by a garden and bamboo groves, held as
private property; (ii) dry crop lands reclaimed at private initiative and
(iii) a portion of the communally-held wet rice lands, subject to
redistribution from time to time. The possession of the third category
of land alone was linked to the paik service to the community.
Evidently wet rice lands were distributed after providing for the private
demesnes of the chiefs, as was the medieval Tai practice in Vietnam.11
The distribution of this residue was egalitarian in the sense that the
same amount of wet rice-land was given to each adult male i.e., paik,
as is evident from later practice on record. Forests, marshes and

wastelands constituted common land to be jointly shared by all.
The militia attached to the king, to members of his family and to
other chiefs continued to be loosely organized till about the end of the
sixteenth century. An individual derived his right to land not from the
king representing the superimposed state, but presumably from his
immediate village community (ban) headed by a chief. His service
obligation to the state, therefore, was a transferred obligation which he
originally owed to his ban. As such, the ban still acted as some sort
of a restraint on the centralized authority. This is evident from a couple
of recorded cases. In the mid-sixteenth century an Ahom householder
was able to resist successfully royal encroachment on his land even for
such a purpose as the founding of a capital city.12 About a hundred
years thereafter king Pratap Singha who had a few paternal fields in
village Revati, had to conciliate the Ahom villagers with a feast and
gifts of clothes to get additional lands for further extension of his farm
there.13
It was the sudden political expansion of the Ahoms into the
relatively more advanced areas of Koch-Hajo as well as a demographic
expansion that hastened certain significant reforms during the first half
of the seventeenth century to strengthen the state apparatus. A fresh
man-power census was undertaken, several new administrative-military
offices were created and above all the militia was reorganized into well-
knit divisions of six thousand persons each, now called khels. Many
functional khels were also created. These were subdivided into units of
thousand, hundred and twenty. The khel system was a remodelling of
what existed rather than an innovation. The registered paik's customary
right to hold a piece of wet rice land was now strictly limited to a
prescribed norm of two puras or 2'66 acres per paik. His obligatory
state service continued to be three or four months in rotation. He could
enjoy his allotment (ga-mati i.e. body land) as before, free of any other
taxes. But for wet lands over and above this norm he had to pay now a
tax generally in kind (palpasa). To measure land for this purpose a
standard measuring rod was introduced for the first time.14 Thorough
land surveys, as in Mughal India, were undertaken in the 1680s and
were completed for the whole state by 1751. A number of skilled
surveyors from Bengal migrated to Assam and settled in service there
during these years.
The khel-v/ise organization of the people coexisted with the parallel
village organization. Thus around 1830 Darrang had 147 villages
organized into 39 khels and Naduar had-123 villages organized into 45
khels.15 Villages in Assam however were not nucleated; they were
generally hamlet-type linear settlements along river banks. The

imposition of a limit to a paik's tax-free holding of wet-rice lands
suggests that the old villages were already facing the problem of
scarcity of land owing to overcrowding and that the state was facing a
growing need for resources in forms other than labour-rent. This is also
indicated by the introduction of a small toll (katal) payable in cowries
or in kind on fisheries, muga silk farms, markets and fairs, ferries and
frontier customs barriers (phat) early in the seventeenth century.16 The
surplus population, once identified, was redistributed in a planned
manner. Individuals were separated from their respective households in
old villages and settled in colonies in desolate areas. This helped to
break up the clans and broaden the social and territorial base of the
Ahom state. Attempts were made on the model of the multi-caste
villages of Mughal India to settle in every new village at least two
households each from as many as fourteen castes. Some of these, such
as the Muslim braziers (maria), were functional.17 The village pattern
surviving in Upper Assam until the early British rule suggests that
these attempts were infructuous or they suffered a setback because of
the Burmese practice of carrying off artisans in particular, as slaves
during the short period of their occupation.
The gradation of militia officers in terms of hundred and thousand
was influenced, according to some scholars, by the Mughal system.
The Assamese term khel for a division (or a clan in a different context)
is obviously derived from the Arabic-Persian term kheil, meaning a
cavalry division or a tribal clan. However, the centurion system
appears to. have had its roots in the traditional Tai military
organization. For, similar principles of organization prevailed in
medieval Thailand as well.18 The aforesaid reforms were an attempt on
the part of the Ahom monarchy to strengthen itself by transforming
the nobility into a military-administrative service and disrupting
their personal bonds with the paiks. By putting the peak in an extra-
territorial khel and providing for inter-khel transfers, the king could
now abridge his nobles' hold over cohesive geographical units like the
ban, and the bond between the king and the paiks c o u ld
correspondingly be strengthened in consequence.
Simultaneously, the Mughal part of Koch-Hajo was dividedabout
1621 into a number of parganahs and subjected to a land tax preferably
payable in cash, as in the rest of Mughal India. This system was more
or less retained there even later under the Ahoms with only slight
modifications. The land allotment allowed per paik was slightly higher
in that part than in Upper Assam. Besides, the assessed pecuniary tax
was generally retained there in lieu of personal service.
The society that was being integrated by the twin processes of the
neo-Vaishnavite movement from below and the political unification
from above continued to be feudal in its essence, both in its political
and manorial aspects. The element of political feudality was only
marginally undermined by the aforesaid reforms which were more anti-
tribal than anti-feudal in their nature. In fact, during the same period
half a dozen or so of border tribal polities with hereditary rajahs, as
well as the Darrang and Kachari kings, were stabilized as vassals
(thapita-sanchita) vis-a-vis the Ahom State, their patron. As to the
manorial aspect, the favoured priests, together with the nobles and the
king, constituted the dominant class. They all had their tax-free private
agricultural farms (comparable to the lord's demesne) which were
cultivated by their own slaves and attached serfs settled thereupon.
These slaves and attached serfs were not numerous and, together they
accounted for hardly ten per cent or perhaps less of the total
population. Another estimated thirty per cent or so of the entire kanri
paik labour force (i.e., of the free peasantry) were allotted as likchou
(personal attendants) by the state to the office-holding nobles.19 They
were a special category of temporary quasi-serfs enjoined to work on
the big private farms. They directly worked for the parasitic class to
provide them with a surplus. Together with adult male slaves and
attached serfs, they formed about one-third or so of the adult male
population. Apparently the likchous were treated worse than slaves.
For whereas the master had to feed his slaves and was materially
affected if the latter died or ran away, the self-maintained likchous
involved no such responsibility or risks on the part of the master.
Such likchous were only temporarily assigned to him during tenure of
his office. The likchou was, therefore, liable to unbridled exploitation
subject only to customary checks.
H in d u iz a t io n a n d D e t o b a u z a t io n
The earlier state formations depended on kinship and feudal ties, but
with the rising authority of the monarch there began a search for a
universal religion to teach ih e people to be obedient, patient and
submissive. The Koch monarchy initiated the process which was
continued by the seventeenth century Ahom kings and still later by the
Kachari kings too. Pratap Singha found it prudent to patronize
Shaivism without relinquishing his Tai-Ahom faith. He also revived
the old practice of making brahmottar, devottar and dharmottar land
grants to brahmans and temples. He was the first Ahom king to engage
learned brahmans in place of Ahoms for diplomatic missions abroad on
the consideration that the former were more clever. However, all these
changes only indicated the groping for a proper religious policy to find
stable allies from amongst the non-Ahoms. During Pratap Singha's
reign the mahapurushia sect of neo-Vaishnavism was subjected to
much persecution and several of their gosains or preceptors, among
them Mukunda Gosain, were put to death.20 This kind of selective
royal oppression of neo-Vaishnavite groups took place from time to
time.
During the hundred years ending in 1750, except for the last half of
Gadadhar Singha's reign, the Ahom kings generally showed due respect
and courtesy to the neo-Vaishnavite gosains and made grants and
endowments for the maintenance of their monasteries. Several
important monasteries (satras) were also set up under their patronage.21
Having lost much of its earlier idealism, the neo-Vaishnavite
movement had already split into a number of distinct sects. For all of
them thesharan had become a stereotyped ceremony symbolizing the
bhakat's (devotee's) total submission to his guru. The bhakat had to
seek spiritual protection of the guru by prostrating himself before the
latter. Clearly the feudal model of a personal bond between a patron and
his client had affected the principles of the satra organization.
Irrespective of sects, all the tithe-collecting satras also invariably
hankered after power and grants of estates and serfs. They could,
however, be placed under two broad categories, which we shall,for
convenience call left and right wings. Issues such as idol-worship,
observance of brahminical rites, celebacy as a necessary condition for
monkhood and especially, the propriety of the initiation of a Brahman
by a Sudra. divided them.
Left-wing satras had generally Sudra gosains. Like the founders of
the movement, they invariably believed that there was nothing wrong
in a Brahman being spiritually initiated by a Sudra. Naturally, they
gained a strong foothold amongst the despised castes as well as the
tribal neophytes. Consistently opposed to the left-wing trends, the
Ahom court pursued over the years a 'divide and rule' policy,
discouraging the nonconformist and encouraging the conformist satras.
The most brutal persecution was carried on during the last five years of
Gadadhar's reign. However, after his death the policy was reversed by
his son, Rudra Singha. A conference of Vaishnava gosains of all sects
was convened by him in his capital in 1702 for a debate on the
controversial religious issues. The outcome of this conference was a
royal decree forbidding Sudras from initiating Brahmans. Exemplary
punishment followed any violation of the ban. The head of a certain
satra was punished even for discarding idol-worship. At the same time,
official patronage was extended to all conformist satras headed by

Brahmans. Selected gosains were given the privilege of blessing the
Ahom kings at their coronation and reportedly as many as 1,230 big
and small satras received recognition from the state. All this happened
during the reign of Rudra Singha, not himself a Vaishnava by faith.22
After a long period of hesitation Rudra Singha finally decided in
1714 to throw his weight in favour of the Shakti cult as the most
suitable faith for a reigning monarch and the ruling class. A stable
alliance had meanwhile been forged between the monarchy and the
right-wing of neo-Vaishnavites. Thus from the beginning of the
eighteenth century—more than six decades after the first adoption of
Hinduism by one of them—the Ahom kings became staunch Hindus.
Instead of burying they now began to cremate their dead in Hindu
fashion. Pile-houses on raised platforms began to give way to mud-
plinth houses. The Ahom language was almost completely replaced by
Assamese at the court The grant of land and serfs to Brahmans, Hindu
temples and even neo-Vaishnavite satras increasingly became an
extensive practice.
Two factors account for the earlier policy of all-out persecution
during the few years immediately preceding Rudra Singha's reign. The
satras had grown very rich and therefore the confiscation of their wealth
including gold idols was held to be justified. Secondly, the country had
become full of gosains and bhakats who naturally claimed the
traditional priestly privilege of exemption from the kanri paik and
likchou services, thus seriously inconveniencing the state.23 Indeed,
this second factor might have been a major motivation behind the neo-
Vaishnavite upsurge, which in turn, provoked its persecution. The
satras had become the refuge of those who wanted to escape the corvee.
Gadadhar's selective and discriminating persecution during the years
1690-6 aimed at removing the married but not celibate bhakats
(monks) from the satras. Bhakats belonging to the four highest
castes— Brahman, Daivajna, Kayastha and Kalita— were left
unmolested, but those of the intermediate and low castes were hunted
o u t expropriated and forced to interdine and eat forbidden food. Many
of the gosains were tortured, even killed; as for example,
Baikunthanathdev (d. 1691) of the Moamaria (Mayamara) satra. The
followers of neo-Vaishnavism were forced to work for the construction
of a 117-mile road which was named dhodar aii_'the road of the lazy'.
However, despite such a savage persecution the satras could not be
isolated from the people. As they could not be crushed, they had to be
tamed. The persecution was stopped even before Gadadhar's death and a
new policy was cleverly formulated by his successor, Rudra Singha.
Those gosains who were Brahmans were restored to their respective

satras in full honour. Even the Shudra gosains were allowed to go
back to their vocations, but were now forced to wear a distinctive badge
and abandon their Brahman bhakats. It was with this humiliation that
Chaturbhujdev was installed as the head (1696-1748) of the Moamaria
Salra.
This 'divide and rule' policy succeeded in rallying the forces of
brahmanism and right-wing neo-Vaishnavism on the side of the Ahom
court as against the left-wing satras. The latter sought refuge in remote
tribal areas and amongst the lower castes as well as the poorer sections
of the people. They continued to preach, often secretly, according to
their faith and in another half-century there appeared popular uprisings
under a religious garb almost all over Assam. These developed into a
prolonged civil war in which the left-wing Maomaria satra played the
most significant role.
C o n c l u sio n
A process of Sanskritization and detribalization was going on

during the century and a half under review. But as fresh batches of
tribal peoples from the hills were incessantly settling down in the
valleys of Assam, the process was halting and never complete. Yet
within the given situation of the hills-plains continuum the early
semi-tribal semi-feudal state formations progressively acquired marked
anti-tribal features
The ruling tribal families adopted Hinduism, but unlike in mid-
India did not attain or seriously aspire for the Kshatriya or Rajput
status. This happened to be so despite the fact that Brahmanical
validation through flattering and miraculous myths about their origin
was not lacking. This had an important implication. No caste cleavage
was created between the commoners and their ruling hierarchy within
the same tribe, though this observation perhaps does not apply to
certain Ahom clans of allegedly low origin who remained degraded. In
spite of their prolonged political rule, the Ahom, Kachari and Koch
tribes were admitted into the Hindu society as new castes with a status
much inferior to that of the four high castes including the peasant
caste, Kalita. Though considerably Ahomized through intermarriages,
the Chutiya tribe was also able to preserve its separate identity as a
new Hindu caste of a low status.
Koch was an omnibus caste which accommodated within itself
tribal neophytes from different Tibeto-Burman linguistic groups. A
converted tribal of this group in Assam first became a Sharania and
*% A
then developed into a Koch. However, all Koches of Goalpara, like

those of north Bengal, who claimed descent from the original ruling
tribe that had first adopted Hindusim, preferred to call themselves
Rajbansi in due course rather than Koch.
The Kalita caste tended to divide itself into several functional sub
castes—bar-kalita (agriculturist), kumar-kalita (potter), mali-kalita
(gardener), kamar-kalita (blacksmith), nao-talia (boat-maker), tanti
(weaver), etc.,25 but no fission actually took place. The possible role of
neo-Vaishnavism as a deterrent in this matter might be profitably
investigated. Apparently the Daivajna caste during this period
continuously improved its status under royal patronage and equalled the
Brahmans in prestige. This was because of the importance given to
astrology practised by them and this had no parallel elsewhere in India.
Muslim prisoners of war and adventurers settled down in Assam in
appreciable number during the period under review. They were,
according to Talish (1663), 'inclined more towards mingling with the
Assamese than towards association with Muslims’.26 Aurangzeb
granted revenue-free land in 1667 to Hindu temple priests in Koch-
Hajo, while an Assamese king made a similar grant to a Muslim faqir
later on.27 The influence of Mughal India is seen in the introduction of
such crafts as tailoring, brass metal casting and manufacture of nerfume
from roses. The initial resistance to the use of the Mughal-type sewn
dress at the Ahom court was overcome by the end of the seventeenth
century and the Assamese court dress closely followed the Mughal
model. Two important functional khels, those of the Farsi-Parhias
(Persian translators) and the Khanikars (artisans), were composed of
Muslims. Incidentally, the caste of Muslim braziers that emerged
had a low status, much despised because of its other occupation of
liquor-brewing.
We do not come across a developed trading and banker class as such
in Assam. The contradiction between the estate-owning aristocracy and
the free peasants (paiks) with small holdings, who had to periodically
suffer a quasi-serf (likchou) status ultimately found expression in a
religious conflict. There was conflict also within the ruling class
itself—the king, his nobles, temple priests, other privileged Brahmans,
the erstwhile Bhuyans and the newly emerged satras—which called for
a redistribution of the expanding economic surplus and political power.
The method and agency for distributing increasing surplus and the
fixation of relative shares of the religious and political functionaries
were relavant and crucial issues in a period of all-round expansion.
The Ahom court did not make any land grants to Brahmans and
their temples until the end of the sixteenth century, but this policy was
reversed later. They received increasingly liberal grants of estates and

serfs particularly during the eighteenth century. Among the
beneficiaries were the newly-emerged satras.M Economically such
grants facilitated colonization and extension of agriculture to
wastelands. Politically they created new bases of support for the
centralized authority. Influential satras and petty tribal chiefs were
absorbed into the ruling class. Thus the estate-holding class was
deliberately expanded.
Any commensurate expansion of the class of farm slaves and serfs
was, however, not possible. Its main source of supply being the
prisoners of war, and the state being entirely dependent on the militia
for self-preservation, too many serfs out of the free population could
not be afforded. In fact, free paiks and their male children were not
allowed to be sold into slavery. Hence the slave-and-serf base of
agriculture remained extremely narrow despite abundance of land. The
servile class on the whole was treated well, at least better than
likchous. Having no obligation to fight, its members had a secure life
as well. On the other hand the free peasantry faced increasing insecurity
on account of frequent wars and ruthless exploitation by the official
aristocracy which was allowed to exact unpaid likchou service from
them. Those from low castes suffered most. It appears that debt-slavery
was also developing as an institution.29
Hence the neo-Vaishnavite movement continued to have its appeal
to the peasantry. It offered limited opportunities to them for an upward
social mobility and imbued them with a sense of human dignity.
Besides, by becoming bhakats they could vicariously challenge and
even attempt to evade the obligation of manual service. These
possibilities gave a militant turn to the movement in the second half
of the eighteenth century.30
N otes
1. The earliest of these, the Chutiya Kingdom in the northeast comer of Assam, was
absorbed by the Ahom State by 1523. The Koch Stale was founded in 1509. By
1581 it was virtually bifurcated into two states-Kochbehar in north Bengal and
Koch-Hajo in Assam. The latter was mostly absorbed by the Ahoms in the 17th
century. Only the Kachari State, reduced to vassalage from time to time,
continued to exist separately. All these states had expanded in their formative
stage through the suppression of the Bhuyans.
FROM TRIBALISM TO FEUDALISM: 1600-1750 95
2. For information on the Bhuyans, Gait, A History o f Assam [ 149J, 39-46; Neog,
Shri Shri Shankardev [201], 1016, 35-36, 55-56, 78-83 and 91 ; Sadar Amin,
AsamBuranji [19], 24.
3. Neog [201], 37-38, 87 and 120. A variation of the syllabus, as in the case of
young Shankardev, might have included the Ramayana, Kavya, Shruii and Smriii
as welL Dates of death given for Vaishnava preceptors in Assam are generally
reliable, but the same can not be said of their dates of birth.
4. Neog, Purani Asamiya Samaj am Samskrili [202], 19-31.
5. For the Tai religion, Dang Nghien Van, ’An outline of the Thai in Vietnam',
Vietnam Studies, voL 8 [140]. 188-93 ; Gurdon, Encyclopaedia o f Religion and
Ethics [93], 235-6 \Ahom Buranji, tr. Barua [23], 1-23.
6. Quote from Talish, tr. Sarkar, cited in Gait [149], p. 153.
7. Gait [149], 222n. There was a total absence of copper currency in Assam.
8. Ibid., 146; Deodhai Asam Buranji [12], 110.
9. A similar system prevailed in medieval Thailand (1350-1767). After an

administrative reorganisation in 1454, the whole population there was divided into
civil and military groups. Each division called lakh was placed under a noble and,
again, subdivided into two groups Svay or those exempted from personal service
obligation upon payment of tax and Prai or those called up in rotation to serve as
soldiers and labourers. In return for his service to the state a 'Huu freeman enjoyed
his ancient right to as much land as he and his family could cultivate. Thompson,
Thailand the New Siam [189], 292r-3, 313, 541 and 675 ; also Graham, Siam
[154],235-6.
10. Gait [149], 87 ; Quote from Satsari Asam Buranji [14], 21. Tr. ours.
11. Dang Nghien Van [140], 20.
12. Satsari Asam Buranji [14], 20.
13. 'David Scott's historical notes about Assam' in White, Historical Miscellany, Vol.
2 [29]. Scott's notes are based on manuscript chronicles he consulted and
compared. The fields mentioned belonged to King Sukampha (1552-1603). Pratap
Singha extended and consolidated them to found a big farm known as
Jaykhamdang. Also see Sadar-Amin [19]. pp. 39-40.
14. Satsari Asam Buranji [14], 26-27,76-77 and 136.
15. White, Historical Miscellany, Vol. 1 [29], 12 and 206.
16. Satsari Asam Buranji [14], 29 and 138.
17. Ibid., 26 and 77 ; Deodhai Asam Buranji [12], 70 and 130. The latter source refers
to the drive for colonization and setting up of new villages even after 1648. Also
see Ahom Buranji [23], iii and Sadar-Amin [ 19], 44,57 and 63.
18. Thompson [189], 292-3,313,541 and 625.
19. In 1826, the lickchous constituted 29 per cent of the registered paiks in the 1800
sq. mile Chiefdom of Muttak (Matak) and 24 per cent of the paiks in the
Chiefdom of Sadiyakhowa—both offshoots of the Ahom State. This is worked
out from two relevant documents—No«. 66 and 118, respecdvely-in Aitchison,
ed., A Collection o f Treaties .T;[6], 203 and 300.
During early British rule, 1825-26 to 1830-31, the dues of all officers in charge *
of khels were put at 27 per cent of the total revenue demand in occupied Assam
each year. -Neufville to Scott, Foreign Pol. Proc., 10 June 1831 [35], Nos. 51-
56. According to Wade, in the late 18th century everyone in the militia hierarchy
starting from a Bora upward was entitled to the corvee of two out of every twenty
paiks put in his charge. This means that leakages of this kind at diffemt levels,
when added up, could have been as much as 34 to 40 per cent for a khel of 6000;
and perhaps, this was the maximum limit. Wade, An Account o f Assam [24],
Introduction, xv-xvii. According to another source on the other hand, the
proportion of paiks in an officer's jurisdiction which could be alienated as
likchous varied from five to ten per cent Dhekial-Phukkan, Asam Buranji [22],
Our own estimate is based on all such available calculations.
20. Gait [149], 123 ; Satsari Asam Buranji [14], 7 5 ; Sadar-Amin [19], 63-64.
21. Gait [149], 289-90.
22. Tungkhungia Buranji [15], 30-31; Gait [149], 290.
23. Ibid., 173-4 and 288 ; Satsari Asam Buranji [14], 117-8 and 149; Tungkhungia
Buranji [15], 14 and 26-27.
FROM TRIBALISM TO FEUDALISM: 1600-1750 97
24. For a discussion by E. P. Suck of this process in the 19th century, see Census of
Lidia, 1881, Assam Report [104], Ch. VI, 66 and 74 ; also Dhekial-Phukkan
[22], 88. On their conversion to Hindu Vaishnavism, the Mikirs (Karbi) also
entered the omnibus Koch caste. Butler, Travels and Adventures in the Province o f
Assam... [133], 137.
25. Census of India, 1901, Assam Report [104], 133 ; Dhekial-Phukkan [22], 87-88.
26. Gail [149], 153.
27. Annals o f the Delhi Badshahate, tr. Bhuyan [25], 15-18 and 233 for Lakshmi
Singha's copper-plate grant of 1780 A.D. and Aurangzeb's two Sanads of 1667
A. D.
28. For jealousy expressed by the Ahom princes at the sight of the wealth and power
of the Satrap tcc Satsari Asam Buranji [14], 117-8; Tungkhungia Buranji [15],
14.
%
29. Needy peasants mortgaged their labour to well-to-do households against loans.
This system was quite prevalent in the 19th century and can be traced back to the
early 17th century. The famous statesman Momai Tamuli is said to have bonded
himself in his early life to his nephew for a loan of four rupees. See Bhuyan,
Lachit Barphukan and His Times [127], 17.
30. For a more exhaustive study of the state formation process in medieval Assam,
The Ahom political system : an enquiry into state formation in medieval Assam
: 122S-1714’ Social Scientist. VoL 11 [159].
6
Peasant Uprisings and the Feudal Crisis
There is now enough evidence to show that the peasant uprisings
described and analysed below essentially reflectd a political conflict
between the feudal ruling class and different segments of the exploited
peasantry.* The contending classes themselves might not have been
collectively self-aware ; in any case the peasants were not. Yet the
people by and large decided to be on this or that side of the barricades
during the prolonged civil war (1769 to 1806) according to their own
respective class positions. This happened in spite of their lack of a
strong explication of consciousness of class identity in either camp or,
in the case of the peasantry, of even any co-ordination and sustained
unity beyond local limits. The Assam ease once more shows that class
was not primarily a subjective happening, but an objective formation,
and that peasant resistance to exploitation was inherent in the
relationship of such objective formations. Substitution of class by the
Weberian concept of status-group within a hierarchy may be all right
and even useful to a historian as a descriptive category, but in no case
does it help him to radically explain change.
A series of popular revolts repeatedly shook the foundations of the
600-year old Ahom Kingdom. Described in the Assamese chronicles as
the Moamaria/Matak troubles, this was indeed a lingering civil war
that ended indecisively with both sides totally exhausted and ruined. As
a result of the massacres and the famines that followed, the population
came down to one half of what it had been.
The Moamarias were followers of the Moamara (Mayamara) Satra,
a numerous neo-vaishnavite sect drawing its members from all castes
and ethnic groups by the time the troubles started, with a
preponderance of tribal neophytes and 'low' caste people, such as the
Morans, a plains tribe frequently and interchangeably referred to as
'Mataks'.
* The term ’tribe’, ’peasant’, and ’feudalism* are used here in ihcir broad senses, there
specific contexts and contents being noted where ver necessary.
PEASANT UPRISINGS AND THE FEUDAL CRISIS 99
Despite an apparent concern for accuracy, the extant chronicles of

the period are in spirit partisan and generally biased against the rebels.1
Contemporary English records—by-products of the East India
Company’s armed intervention in favour of the tottering regime—view
the events simply as a law and order problem.2 Yet a third important
source is received tradition preserved in late quasi-historical accounts of
neo-vaishnavite monasteries that became involved in the struggles.
This tradition is now available only in a distorted form.3
An examination of these materials reveals the democratic and anti-
feudal character of the revolts. S. K. Bhuyan suggests that the Ahom
feudatory lords held to the bulk of the people the same relation 'as the
Normans did for generations in England', and that by right of conquest
they enjoyed hereditary privileges in the soil and in all important
public offices. The 'attachment of the subjects to their immediate over
lords, viz. the kheldars to whom they were tied by hereditary
obligations,' he notes, 'was greater than to their distant government at
the capital'.4 He draws a casual analogy with the English civil war
between the Cavaliers and the Roundheads.5 Neither his analysis nor
the mechanical analogies he draws, however, takes our understanding of
the feudal crisis and its dialectics far enough.6 Hence an attempt is
being made in the following pages to reinterpret the known facts and
stretch the analysis in new directions for an understanding of the social
forces then in operation. In doing so I have drawn largely on some
related enquiries made by me into the field.7 This study is in three
parts. The social development towards feudalism and its replication in
ideology, i.e. the origins of feudalism and neo-vaishnavism and their
subsequent interaction, are traced in Part I. In Part II a narrative of the
three successive phases of the civil war is presented. Conclusions are
drawn in Part III.
E c o n o m ic a n d S o c ia l B a c k g r o u n d
The neo-vaishnavite movement in Assam, led by Shankardev and

his disciples—Madhavdev, Damodardev and others during the sixteenth
and seventeenth centuries—popularized a monotheistic cult of bhakti
and a congregational form of religious practice that dispensed with
expensive ritual. Its message was that anyone irrespective of birth,
caste or status could attain salvation by taking refuge in its four
elements : (i) God, (i) guru (preceptor), (iii) the fraternity of bhakats
(devotees) and (iv) nama (the chanting of the divine Name). It enjoined
devotion to Vishnu alone to the exclusion of other gods, their temples
and even their prascida (offerings made before them). This new faith
spread rapidly, involving in due course a majority of the Assamese
people.8 Based on the teachings of the Bhagavata-purana, it came to be
known in Assam as the bhagavatii dharma or eka-sharana-nama-
dharma. Associated with it was a cultural renaissance, humanist in
content and popular in form, in literature as well as in the vocal and
visual arts.
While in its basic features it resembled the movement that spread
through the whole of India, the bhakti movement of Assam had
nevertheless several that were distinctive. Dasya was its commended
form of devotion; a master-servant relationship as assumed to exist
between God and man was projected into the relationship between the
guru and the proselyte. For God and the guru were deemed to be one,
being different only in body. The concept was institutionalized in the
form of the sharan ceremony, i.e. the formal spiritual initiation or
ordination of the proselyte. It highlighted the total submission of the
latter to his guru and to the three other elements of the cult.9 In return,
the guru took the proselyte under his spiritual protection. Clearly the
feudal model of a personal bond between the master and his serf was
projected into this relationship. The proselyte regularly paid a tithe
(guru-kar) to his spiritual lord.
The most distinguishing feature of Assamese neo-vaishnavism is,
however, a network of decentralized monasteries (satra), each headed by
a guru (designated as the mahanta, goswami or satradhikar).
Proselytization was their most important function. Such monasteries
proliferated, and by the end of the seventeenth century ideological
differences had created four competing orders or samhatis—(i) Brahma,
(ii) Purusha, (iii) Nika, and (iv) Kala. The first upheld the supremacy
of the brahmans in all matters even within the vaishnava fraternity ; it
zealously conformed to Vedic rites and to idol worship ; and it
invariably had brahman abbots. On these points the other three orders
had varying degrees of reservation. The most non-conformist of them
was the Kala-Samhati, which originated from the interpretation of the
teachings of Shankardev and Madhavdev by Gopaldev. Interestingly, all
these three reformers were kayastha by caste and bhuyan by status.10 It
was the monasteries of the Kala-Samhati that had the largest following
amongst the despised castes and tribal neophytes. The Moamara Satra
belonged to this order.
The monasteries had generally originated from the camp head
quarters of the early neo-vaishnavite missionaries. Vamshigopaldev
(1548-1634), a brahman, Aniruddhadev, a kayastha of bhuyan descent,
and Bar-Yadumanidev (1564-1618) were amongst those who carried the
neo-vaishnavite message to the rural masses of eastern (Upper) Assam.

In the course of time there came to be several hundred monasteries in
the Brahmaputra Valley, each linked with a number of villages. Each
village had its own community prayer-hall (namghar) for holding
religious discourses and village meetings. Both Satras and Namghars
were simple constructions of wood and bamboo with thatched roofs.
The monasteries gradually evolved their own hierarchy of functionaries
to manage properties and collect tithes from the initiated devotees.
Many of the monasteries grew rich, particularly when endowed under
royal patronage with grants of waste-lands and serfs.
The proselytizing function of the monasteries helped the ongoing
process of sanskritization of the Ahom and the tribal folk in the
Brahmaputra Valley. The Ahoms were accepted as a low-ranking new
Hindu peasant caste. The tribal neophytes, admitted first to the lowest
rung of the caste ladder, had opportunities of upward social mobility
through emulation of the higher castes. Individuals and groups moved
not only from animism to vaishnavism, but also from tribes to
peasant castes ; from pile houses to mud-plinth houses ; from the
burial practice to cremation of the dead ; from liberal food habits to
abstinence from liquor, beef and pork ; from a shifting to permanent
cultivation, and so on.11
Agriculture was multiform, with its settled and shifting sectors
coexisting side by side. The Assamese-speaking Hindu mainstream of
the population as well as the Tai-speaking migrant Ahoms cultivated
transplanted wet-rice (sali). As literate plough-using peoples, they were
long accustomed to live in politically organized societies. The
remaining population belonging to tribes with diverse languages were
associated with shifting slash-and-bum cultivation with hoes and
digging sticks. They raised dry-rice (ahu) sown broadcast. A section of
the Bodo-Kachari tribe were of course passing from hoe to plough and
from dry-rice to wet-rice cultivation. Though united by the
communication channels of the Brahmaputra and its navigable
tributaries, the Assamese, Ahom and tribal settlements had long
remained segregated from each other in several medieval states which
were then at uneven levels of sophistication. However, the aforesaid
process of social and economic change was accompanied by a gradual
acceptance of Assamese—the dominant language of the valley—via an
intervening phase of bilingualism, since the end of the fifteenth
century. This coincided with the process of feudal consolidation in
space and hierarchy.
The scene was dominated from the thirteenth to the sixteenth
century by two rival political systems : (i) loose confederacies of
hierarchical petty feudal chiefs (bhuyan raj) thriving on the ruins of an

erstwhile imperial tradition that was Kamrup, and (ii) rudimentary
semi-feudal state formations emerging directly from tribes, e.g. the
Chutiya, Kachan and Ahom Kingdoms. A continuous expansion of the
permanent wet-rice cultivation sectors meanwhile enabled the disparate
peasant societies to yield an increasing surplus and thus lay the basis
for a more sophisticated state system. The extension of transplanted
wet-rice cultivation was particularly rapid in the Ahom Kingdom. This
led to an increase in the population, which in turn facilitated further
extension of cultivated acreage.12 Having absorbed the Chutiya
Kingdom by 1523, the Ahoms continued to expand their domain
southward and westward at the cost of the Kacharis and the bhuyans.
The Koch Kingdom too expanded at the cost of the petty bhuyans of
western Assam about the same time. The Koches clashed with the
Ahoms, defeated them and even sacked their capital in 1562. The
former's superiority stemmed from an economic base that had an earlier
and closer involvement with Hindu society and a relatively greater
division of labour in terms of professional castes. Mutual contact
between the Koches and the Ahoms gave rise to an integrative process
that helped both, but the Ahoms more. In the course of the seventeenth
century the latter were to emerge as the masters of the whole
Brahmaputra Valley excepting a few Parganahs still remaining with the
Mughals. Incidentally, in the Ahom Kingdom, peasants' private
property rights were not recognized over wet-rice lands. Such rights
were vested in the community represented by the King. Every
household customarily possessed three types of land : (i) a hereditary
homestead plot held as private property, (ii) dry-crop lands reclaimed at
private initiative and held as private property as long as cultivated, and
(iii) a portion of communally-owned wet-rice lands subject to
redistribution from time to time. Forests and marshes were villagers'
common lands.13
Before the rise of neo-vaishnavism, the bhuyans and the tribal
chiefs were patrons of localized mother goddess cults, rooted in
degenerate Tantric-Buddhist and tribal fertility rites. Their magico-
religious faith reflected the existing fragmentation of society; cruelty
and bloodshed were sanctified as necessary conditions of survival. The
Tai-Ahom religious cult, a form of animism tinged with elements of
of ancestor worship, had the same sp irit; its hierarchy of gods for
example was only a projection on the mental plane of the incipient
trans-tribal feudal society the Ahoms lived in.14 At that unconsolidated
stage incipient feudalism, like its tribal base, lacked a world view. But
the ongoing process of abridgement of political fragmentation, as
noted, warranted the advent of a new ideology, a universal religion, by

the early sixteenth century.
The Koch king Naranarayan (1540-84) found the neo-vaishnavite
movement happily falling in with his ambition to bring North Bengal
and Assam under his suzerainty. After all, sword and the Bhagavata
served a common purpose : both attempted to bring disparate tribes
together and weld them into an integrated social order. Ek dev ek sev,
ek vine nahi kev—this neo-vaishnavite concept of undivided loyalty to
one deity alone could not but indirectly help the ideal of one people
under one monarch. Even the Ahom kings, who were initially hostile
or indifferent to the movement during the sixteenth century, gradually
felt the need for winning it over to their side. By the mid-seventeenth
century we have an Ahom king embracing the faith. For neo-
vaishnavism was essentially a feudal ideology that was helping to
detribalize a society in transition.
The above is obviously not a sufficient explanation of the advent of
the new ideology in Assam ; there were other factors too. By the
sixteenth century a stratum of artisans still linked with agriculture had
emerged from peasant society, particularly in western Assam. The
increasing volume of trade, however limited still in absolute and
relative terms, necessitated not only considerable mobility on the part
of these elements, but also local coinage to augment the money supply
which, until then, consisted of only cowries and Bengal currency in
limited circulation. Introduction of muskets, cannon and gunpowder in
the region since the sixteenth century tended to strengthen a reigning
monarch in relation to his subjects. Under the circumstances, the
political and cultural consolidation of the valley emerged as an
immediate possibility. These developments needed a supporting
ideology that would cut across tribal and early feudal fragmentations
then in existence, and legitimize the feudal rule.
The popularity of neo-vaishnavism stemmed from its democratic
content—its creed that all men were equal in the eyes of God, that the
expensive rituals were meaningless and that a spiritual preceptor could
be chosen from any caste even by a brahman. There was no
fundamental challenge to the existing caste rules, only an attempt to
modify them at the spiritual level. For example, social taboos in regard
to commensality, not to speak of intermarriage, were strictly conformed
to. The neo-vaishnavite attitude to the observance of Vedic rites and to
the worship o f idols in day-to-day life was ambivalent and
compromising. Ideally a bhakat, a devotee free from worldly
attachment, was not to observe the shraddha and such other rites, nor
worship idols. Nevertheless, these rites were enjoined on householder
bhakats, and they were permitted to worship idols.15 Thus neo-

vaishnavism compromised with conservative forces to enhance its
acceptability. For the same reason it also conceded that a ruling
monarch was duty-bound to observe all traditional rites, including
blood sacrifices, for the welfare of his subjects.16 Despite its preaching
of ahimsa, it hardly reacted to the inhumanly cruel forms of execution
and other corporal punishments then in vogue. Nor was the institution
of slavery condemned by the reformers, though there is evidence of
their being kind to oppressed slaves.
Among those who responded first to the bhakti movement were
some learned kayastha bhuyans, recently dispossessed of political
power, a few brahman intellectuals and many professional artisans and
traders. Madhavdev and Vamshigopaldev had taken up trade before
joining the movement. Narayandas (1495—?), alias Bhabananda,
prospered as a trader and used his wealth to promote the cause.
Mathuradas, who rose to be the abbot of the Barpeta Satra, was the
head of a weavers* guild. Damodardev had twelve weavers as his
apostles.17 There is evidence to show that weavers and members of
other professional castes and crafts joined the movement in large
numbers and continued to maintain their special links with the
monasteries, particularly in western Assam.18 In due coourse the
peasants also were drawn into the movement.
That the movement succeeded, despite its limitations and
compromises, in materially undermining the influence of the
traditional priests is amply indicated by the indignation it aroused in
their camp. Neo-vaishnavite preachers were charged by them with lnter-
dining, violating Vedic rituals and subordinating brahmans to sudras.
The former generally pleaded not guilty to these charges, but there were
always some extremists among them who would push the ideology to
its logical end on such matters. For example, in the reign of Pratap
Singha, Mukunda Gosain, who was a brahman by birth, held
brahmanical marriage rites, the sanctification of new tanks and the
wearing of the sacred thread as unnecessary rituals. He even dared
perform his own daughter's marriage without the accompanying vedic
rites. Mukunda and Balbhadra Ata were executed under royal orders for
their non-conformist views. Even Vamshigopaldev, their preceptor,
who held more conservative views on such matters, had his monastery
burnt and was forced to go underground for many years. Another
extremist, Nityanandadev of the Moamara Satra, was executed in c.
1650 on charges of nonconformism.19 However, it was this non
conformism that attracted the tribal population towrds the movement;
for it suited their liberal ways of life. Under the twin impact of neo-
vaishnavism and tribalism, a further development and proliferation of

castes by way of fission was arrested. For example the Kalita caste,
which tended to split into several functional castes (nat, mali,
kumar, kanhar, kamar, etc.), was able in the long run to resist such a
fission.
Sanskritization of the tribal and Ahom societies and the growing
religious conflicts of the seventeenth century warranted the formulation
of an official religious policy. Himself a non-Hindu, Pratap Singha
came to patronize brahmans and Hindu temples with grants of
wastelands and serfs. The neo-vaishnavite monasteries were then
excluded from such favours. Later, after his death, some of them too
began to receive royal patronage. But the persecution of other
monasteries continued. For example, the abbots of four Kala-Samhati
Satras— Moamara, Makajan, Dihing (Bahbari/Silikhatal) and
Sesamukh—were arrested around 1673. A palace coup, engineered by
an influential disciple of one of these Satras, however, helped them
escape unhurt20 Persecution was most indiscriminate during the last
half of the reign of Gadadhar Singha. At first he forcibly dispersed all
married monks from their respective monasteries. Later all these
monasteries were burnt and their properties confiscated. Monks not
belonging to the four higher castes (brahman, daivajna, kayastha and
kalita) were condemned to hard labour on construction sites. The sudra
abbots and leading members of a number of Kala-Samhati satras,
including Vaikunthanathdev of Moamara, were executed in 1691. These
punitive measures were taken as all religious preceptors and monks
used to claim exemption from their universal militia obligation.21
Repression drove the neo-vaishnavite movement underground rather
than caused its collapse. Hence the State was forced to revise its
religious policy early in Rudra Singha's reign. He rehabilitated the
persecuted monasteries. A conference of neo-vaishnavite preachers held
under his orders at the capital in 1702 decided against spiritual
initiation of brahmans by sudra preceptors. The sudra preceptors who
had argued against the decision were all forced to hang small earthen
jars around their necks as a mark of admonishment. Four of them
belonging to the Kala-Samhati were among those forced to shift their
headquarters to new places. A royal order was proclaimed forbidding
henceforth the acceptance of brahman disciples by sudra preceptors.
Later Chaturbhuj, the abbot of Sesamukh Satra (belonging to the Kala-
Samhati), then living at Moamara under royal orders, was punished on
charges of admitting two brahman disciples. Two sudra abbots of Nika-
Samhati monasteries were forcibly expelled for refusing to do idol
worship.22
Rudra Singha prepared a register of recognized monasteries and

appointed an officer for their supervision. Meanwhile, the Shakti cult
of the Bengal school was found by him to suit the ruling family best.
In accordance with his last wishes, his son Shiva Singha (1714-1744)
was formally initiated to this cult in 1714.23 Thus the Ahom religious
policy finally anchored on an alliance between the monarch, the Shakti
worshippers and the brahmanical sections of the neo-vaishnavites. This
policy was largely guided by political considerations. It aimed at and
succeeded in driving a wedge between the brahmanical and other
elements within the neo-vaishnavite movemenL Under royal patronage,
a number of conformist monasteries emerged as big landed proprietors.
They had hundreds of slaves, serfs and tenants on their estates, and they
were exempted from all tax obligations to the State.24
In Ahom society one's position was largely determined by birth and
the highest state officials had to be recruited exclusively from the seven
families (sat-ghar) constituting the Ahom nobility. This was why the
Ahom nobility from the very beginning, held the social gap that
existed within the Assamese Hindu society as legitimate. They even
made common cause with the brahmans against the non-conformism of
neo-vaishnavism, since it tended to promote an egalitarian social
outlook. The need for an alliance with a section of the neo-vaishnavite
movement arose gradually as the feudal class expanded in space and
hierarchy. It materialized when the movement had already lost much of
its early idealism. The right wing of the movement allied itself with
the ruling class, while the left wing, represented by the Kala-Samhati
Order, stuck largely to the democratic content of the ideology. Finally,
during the feudal crisis that followed, only the Moamara Satra of the
aforesaid order continued to uphold its protestant ideology boldly.
The ruling feudal class was composed of three distinct groups : (i)
the traditional Ahom nobility (gohain), (ii) the spiritual lords (prabhu),
i.e. priests and abbots some of whom were non-brahmans, and (iii) the
hereditary vassal chiefs. All of them including the king had farms
cultivated by serfs and slaves. The militia, divided into a number of
divisions, was made up of adult males aged between 16 and 6 0; slaves,
serfs and privileged persons of noble birth were exempt. Members of
the militia received tax-free strips of wet-rice land from the community
on a tenurial basis. Militia divisions were twofold : (i) kanri paik
units consisting of ordinary soldiers-cum-labourers, and (ii) chamua
paik units providing non-manual services. Customarily, one-fourth of
the strength of a unit was always on public service through a system
of rotation. In other words, a group of four militiamen provided
between them one man-year of service to the State. When someone
was on militia duty, his farm and family were looked after by the other
three members of his group, his co-villagers. In an emergency the levy
used to be temporarily increased to onehalf of the strength of a unit on
an ad hoc basis, and even up to two-thirds, depending upon the season
and at great risks to the economy. The members of the non-manual
service wing had to contribute a share of their products to the State if
they were artisans, or they contributed specialized services in
accordance with their respective skills. Junior officers in charge of
units of twenty, a hundred and a thousand enjoyed the status of chamua
paiks. Senior officers were recruited from the nobility. The militia was
engaged not only in defence activities, but also in the construction of
public works such as roads, dams, temples and palaces. They also
worked on royal farms.25
In lieu of salary the officers of different categories were allowed the
usufruct of large tracts of lands and stipulated portions of an estimated
twenty to thirty per cent of the mobilized paiks set aside as their
temporary servitors (likchou).26 The latter were deployed to work for
officers to whom they were allotted. But they often had their
obligations commuted by those officers for a payment in kind ; or in
cash, after money circulation had made some inroads into the natural
economy. For the unpaid labour extracted from temporary serfs could
not be very productive. Slaves and bondsmen suited them better. Even
when slaves were employed, production was not organized on a large-
scale basis because of the limitations of technical knowledge. The form
in which slave labour was economically exploited pertained to the pure
form of serfdom or tenancy.
This system of surplus extraction for the maintenance of the State
and the nobility exhibited a certain degree of centralization. In Assam
the king as the representative of the community gradually established
his claim to theoretical ownership of all communal wet rice lands and
wastelands. On the other hand, homestead land developed clearly as the
tax-free private property of those in possession. Besides, feudal landed
properties were also created by way of royal grants of wasteland tracts
on which slaves and serfs were settled. But in terms of acreage or
population, this last form was not yet the major one, though its
domination over the whole system was indisputable. In any case, the
State controlled the distribution of communal wet-rice lands cultivated
by the peasantry ; it organized the mobilization of the surplus in the
form of a central labour p o o l; and it finally redistributed this surplus
amongst the various elements of the ruling class. The system thus
increasingly assumed a form of centralized feudalism (if one can use the
term in a qualified sense) from the seventeenth century.27
Having been granted in perpetuity huge tracts of tax-free wastelands

and portions of the paik population to cultivate them, the favoured
brahmans, abbots and temple priests constituted a class of spiritual
lords. They exacted labour-rent in general, or a rent in cash or kind in
lieu of it, from their tenants. These spiritual lords owed no military or
fiscal obligation to the State.
Lastly, several hereditary vassal chiefs, all of tribal origin, were
allowed to enjoy autonomy in their respective territories (desh), subject
to an obligation to supply a fixed contingent of soldiers to the Ahom
king. The precise term for this kind of vassalage was sthapit-sanchit
(established and protected). Yet another term, sevakata or seva (service)
came into vogue to denote this relationship.
The centralization of the feudal system was limited not only by
vassalage but also by tribalism and kinship ties. The chain of authority
from the King-in-Council down to the lowest officer, a captain of
twenty, had its loose ends. The unit of twenty, linked with a supply
base of eighty adult males (later sixty), was headed by the group’s
natural leader, the headman of their village or clan. S. K. Bhuyan
rightly suggests that not only the units of twenty, but also those of a
thousand, were placed under the command of such officers as were
acceptable to those commanded. On occasion such junior officers had
to be removed from their command when the ranks so demanded.28 Here
was indication of some popular control retained over the militia At the
higher levels of the command too, the kinship ties had an accepted
customary role in maintaining the balance of power between the 'great'
families. Three of the provincial governors had to be appointed
customarily from the royal family, and other governors respectively
from the other 'Great' families. Their interrelations, subject to an oath
of allegiance to the king, maintained the balance at the apex of the
power structure. If the three great counsellors could combine, they had
the customary right to depose the king and nominate another from the
royal clan. Thus the militia and the bureaucratic crust at the top still
betrayed its original tribal character to a considerable extent.29 The
lingering semi-tribal, semi-feudal nature of the State—itself a
reflection of the meagreness of the available quantum of surplus—
headed towards a crisis even before its anti-tribal task was completed.
The superimposed centralization was somewhat tenuous. The
unresolved contradictions between feudal and tribal elements within the
militia were one important factor in the civil war between the rulers
and the ruled in the second half of the eighteenth century.
The other and more important factor contributing to the crisis was
the inroads of money into the natural economy. The revenue settlement
introduced in Kamrup under the Mughals had encouraged the peasants

to pay their land tax in cash if they could, rather than in kind or labour
service. This system was retained there with minimal modification
even after the final incorporation of Kamrup into the Ahom Kingdom
by 1682. On the Mughal model a land survey and settlement for the
whole kingdom was completed during the years 1682-1751.
Militiamen (paiks) continued to enjoy tax-free wet-rice lands to the
extent of about three acres per head in the rest of the Ahom Kingdom
as before. However, it was no longer possible for them in the new
situation to conceal the excess wet lands in their possession for which
they were now supposed to pay a money tax.30 For, the availability of
land records and a trained survey staff after the 1680s gradually enabled
the State to squeeze the defaulters. This had repercussions on the
discipline of the militia. For example, with a view to forestalling the
new rent-roll, four thousand paiks of Darrang staged a long march for
protest demonstration in the Ahom capital in 1770. The king had to
stay the unpopular settlement, then and there.31
Yet another form of protest was the large-scale evasion of paik
services. Despite the census of manpower from time to time a
considerable number of the eligible adult population took advantage of
the weak machinery of the State to avoid getting their names entered
on the paik register. One convenient form of evasion was to join a
monastery as a householder monk. The customary exemption of
religious functionaries and monks from paik service encouraged
thousands to join the monasteries as monks and thus claim such
exemption. Monasteries in remote places, with abundant wastelands all
around suitable for dry-rice, served as ideal refuges for disaffected paiks
who were ready to leave their wet-rice plots to evade their militia
obligations. Since homestead plots and dry-rice fields reclaimed from
wastelands at personal intiative were customarily tax-free, the
monasteries played a colonizing role in attracting peasant settlers in
new areas.32
Once money had infiltrated into the natural economy on a modest
scale, chamua and kanri paiks of high caste and superior birth were
generally allowed commutation of their obligations to the State for a
money-tax. Being so privileged, they were then designated as a-pa’kan
chamua. Thus in the Ahom Kingdom there emerged five broad social
status-groups : (i) the nobility—temporal and spiritual—who did not
pay any taxes for the lands and estates they held and had their
cultivation carried on mainly by serfs,tenants and slaves ; (ii) the a-
paikan chamua—the gentry as well as the exempted peasants and
artisans who paid only a money-tax ; (iii) paikan chammua,
I.e..artisans, literati and skilled deople who were exempted from

contribution of manual labour but had to pay taxes in kind or
specialized service ; (iv) peasants subjugated to manual labour service
for the benefit of the State and its officers ; and (v) the servile
population consisting of slaves bondsmen and private serfs, whose
statuses differed only slightly from each other. Of the five social
status-groups. the most numerous were those of the fourth category. It
was the number of ploughs and draught animals owned and not
landholding that was the measure of the well-being of a peasant
household. A rich peasant operated on the basis of a large family unit
and, in some cases, also one or two bondsmen. Broadly, these five
status-groups could be reduced to three social classes : (i) the feudal
lords, (ii) the free peasantry and peasant-cum-artisans, subjugated only
to the State, and (iii) the servile population subjugated not to the State
but personally to the King and other feudal lords.
By the eighteenth century the money element in the revenue
collection had increased considerably by earlier and local standards, and
this was not without reason. There was an organized internal market in
betelnuts and leaves. Expanded external trade relations had meanwhile
led to an increasing exchange of the region's elephants, aloe wood,
pepper, long pepper, musk, spikenard, mustard-seeds, gold, silk, etc.,
for salt, saltpetre, sulphur and luxury cotton cloth from Mughal India.
There was a concomitant growth of a chain of foothills markets.
Assamese traders procured forest products from the surrounding hills in
exchange for rice, dried fish, silk and cotton cloth in these marts for re
export to Mughal India. The resultant increase in economic activities
led to some degree of specialization, particularly in Kamrup, where
artisan castes began to attain their functional importance on the north-
Indian model. Sualkuchi, Ramdia and Sarthebari in Kamrup developed
as centres for silk weaving, oil-crushing and bell-metal casting,
respectively.33 Skilled artisans from outside were encouraged to migrate
to Assam and were systematically settled there. From the closing
decade of the seventeenth century, the Ahom mint 'was constantly at
work and small coins weighing 48 and 24 ratis respectively were
issued', followed by still smaller coins, weighing 16, 12 and 3 ratis
and a regular gold currency in the eighteenth century.34 The increase in
the supply of currency clearly indicated a growing market
Under the circumstances, better-off peasants and artisans had by
now some command over a ready cash. Naturally they looked forward
to commutation of their corvee obligations for a money tax (in case
such taxes could not be got rid of altogether) and to entry into the
superior chamua status. There were no jajmani relations-based
nucleated 'village communities' in the Ahom Kingdom. Aritisan crafts,

even petty trading activities, were generally combined with agriculture
in the same peasant homes. Even functional castes—there were only a
few—were involved in agriculture. Further development towards
specialization needed freedom of movement including occupational
mobility on the part of the peasant-artisans and peasant-traders. But
this was lacking under the compulsions of their periodic service
obligations. Commutation of service, or of payments in kind for a
reasonably low money-tax would have helped solve this problem.
However, since the functioning of the State apparatus was dependent
on the militia system, the rulers could meet this general craving for an
upward mobility only up to a point—to the extent the State was in
need of a money revenue. It was reluctant to extend this privilege to
new people other than those belonging to the higher castes. It also
pitched the money-tax high.
The conflict on the question of both the form and the quantum of
rent payments between the ruling class and the subjugated people
consisting of the peasants, artisans and traders emerged as a major
contradiction in eighteenth-century Assamese society. The centralized
extraction of surplus and its redistribution amongst the competing
groups of the ruling class faced a crisis with the sharpening of this
contradiction. Even the nobility, temporal (mostly Ahom) as well as
spiritual (mostly brahman), was ridden with infighting. The perpetual
grant of thousands of acres of tax-free land by the State to the latter as
devottar, dharmottar and brahmottar estates in consideration of winning
new allies was detested by the temporal nobility.35 It was under such
circumstances that the social protest movement was transformed into
an armed conflict, under the leadership of the extremists among the
neo-vaishnavites.
Within the subjugated peasantry the most discontented were the
Dafla-Bahatiyas and the Morans on special grounds of their own. The
former were foothills dwellers assigned with certain obligations to
hillmen coming down from the Arunachal hills into the plains every
winter. The responsibility of paying an annual subsidy (posa).
committed by the Ahom Government to the hillmen devolved on these
Bahadyas over and above their standing obligation to the State, reduced
on this consideration to one-third of the usual norm. The total burden
however turned out to be heavier than the norm, since they paid their
dues partly in kind and cash and partly in the form of manual labour.36
That they would join the ranks of the rebels in due course was only
natural.
The Morans, a plains tribe, were migratory slash-and-bum

cultivators in the sparsely-populated tracts lying north of the Burhi
Dihing river. The early Ahom migrants established close contacts with
the southern section of this tribe. In due course these Morans living
south of the Dibru river underwent a process of Ahomization and later,
of sanskritization. As a result, many of them had gradually adopted the
plough and wet-rice cultivation. A few were even adopted into
respectable Ahom clans. A number of farms were worked by Moran
serfs for the Ahom nobility. A portion of the Moran population was
also shifted to the Ahom habitat. Thus the southern Morans became
relatively integrated with the Ahom society and territory.37 But the
forest-dwelling Morans, mostly living north of the Dibru river and at a
distance from the Brahmaputra, were virtually left undisturbed in their
habitat which was only nominally under Ahom rule. Their obligation
to the State was limited to supplying, in lieu of militia service, a
variety of products such as elephants, fuel, ivory, honey, bamboo-
mats, raw cotton and vegetable dyes. Both sections of the people
adhered to the Moamaria Vaishnava faith. Their main crops were ahu
(dry-rice), sugarcane and cotton.38 Both the northern and southern
Morans (upper and lower Mataks) long retained their independent spirit
They were described by one British officer in 1839 as 'a rude, fanatical,
stiff-necked people, accustomed to a very light assessment and who
have always exercised considerable share in their own
Government...there exists a greater spirit of equality in the
community, and their chiefs exercise less authority over the people
than I have seen elsewhere in Assam'.39
It was in the seventeenth century that Aniruddhadev, a kayastha
disciple of Gopaldev, brought the message of neo-vaishnavism to the
Morans. However they became devoutly attached to the Moamara Satra
much later. The office of the Guru devolved from father to son in the
same lineage. As in other Satras of the Kala Samhati Order, in the
Moamara Satra too no idols were worshipped. Nor did it accord any
spiritual supremacy to brahmans. Though denied now by its present-
day head, apparently the Satra had held very liberal views in the past in
regard to commensality and connubium. It also appears to have taken a
lenient view of certain cults practised in total defiance of caste and sex
taboos. Those cults were a legacy of the suppressed Tan trie tradition
that died hard amongst the people of Assam.40 The guru was identified
with the Godhead, and his authority was supposed to be supreme.
Nevertheless the Satra fraternity built a democratic and egalitarian
tradition that suited the tribal way of life.41 That is why the teachings
PEASANT UPRISINGS AND THE FEUDAL CRISIS 1 13
of the Satra attracted the Morans. They all became disciples of the
Satra by the mid-eighteenth century.
The Moamara Satra had a large following among all sections of the
people including Ahoms and brahmans. But its close association with
the despised Morans, untouchable fishermen and men of other depressed
castes was widely noted with alarm by conservative circles.42 Not only
was the Satra denied royal patronage, it was also repeatedly persecuted.'
Nevertheless it continued to function and preach amongst the people
through a network of village-based tithe collectors, designated as gaon-
burha (village elders). At the time of the uprisings, there were
reportedly seven such pontiffs, headed by a Bar-gaonburha or chief
elder.
On the eve of the civil war the Morans had their tribal economy and
organization still basically intact in the region north of the Dibru river.
Any superimposed authority, whether that of the Ahom State or that of
the Moamaria Guru, could function only through their own tribal
organization. Neither the royal nor the religious authority over them
was in practice absolute. In the course of their revolts against the State
there were many occasions when they even flouted the advice of their
Guru whose authority in theory was said to be subject to none. Any
explanation of the tenacity of the revolts in terms of blind obedience to
the successive Gurus is therefore untenable. The causes were deeper and
were inherent in the socio-economic situation.
T h e P e r io d o f C iv il W ar
Conditions of peace, internal order and relative prosperity for

several decades before and during the reign of Rajeswar Singha suggest
a rising population, presumably reaching its heretofore highest level—
an estimated three million or so—on the eve of the civil war.
Nevertheless, the signs of a deepening crisis were already visible in the
body politic. Never before was the ruling class so sharply divided by
sectarian disputes. There were too many claimants to the limited
number of offices. The militia could no longer be effectively mobilized
and commanded. For the first time in the annals of the kingdom,
several high officers had to be punished one after another for refusing
to go on active service on the plea of ill health. An expedition sent in
aid of the King of Manipur perished on its way in inhospitable forests
because of the state of things. That the militia was facing a manpower
crisis despite a rising population was obvious from Rajeswar Singha's
new order that required three paiks, instead of four, to complete
between them one man-year of service to the Stale. This increased the
period of obligatory service from three months to four months per

paik—a 33 per cent increase in the load that must have been detested
by the common man.43
The widening gap between population and the effective supply of
manpower was the cumulative result of a prolonged process of three
types of leakage : (i) the alienation of portions of the paik population
to an increasing number of devottar, dharmotiar and brahmottar
grantees during the eighteenth century ; (ii) the increasing commuta
tion of paik service for a money-tax under compelling circumstances ;
and (iii) an increasing evasion of obligatory service by the remaining
paiks under conditions of land abundance and proliferation of neo-
vaishnavite Satras in remote and desolate areas, as explained above.
The growing strength of the monasteries, particularly of the non
conformist ones drawing resources from voluntary contributions,
contrasted sharply with the visible decadence of the State apparatus.
The Moamara Satra, for instance, had reportedly ten to twelve
agricultural farms, four to five thousand buffaloes, substantial
quantities of gold and silver, eight to ten thousand servile dependants
and a following of ten to twelve thousand monks. The number of its
lay disciples ran into several lakhs.44 After prolonged persecution and
humiliations for over a century, the Satra found the times most
opportune at last to demonstrate its power under the leadership of its
abbot Astabhujadev (d. 1770).
The opportunity was provided by the Guru's decision to establish a
new campus at Khutiapota in the Maloupalhar—an extensive,
undulating plain, swampy and partly forested, which served the
neighbourhood as fishing, hunting and grazing grounds. Thousands of
devotees worked for five days to raise a mound there for housing the
Satra. This demonstration of manpower unnerved the State authorities.
Misunderstandings between them and the Satra grew ; and on several
occasions the functionaries of the Satra were publicly insulted. No
longer ready to lie low, the latter began to spread disaffection secretly
among the people. Neither was the Government sitting idle. It won
over to its side the influential Dihing Satra, also of the Kala-Samhati
Order, to counteract the influence of the Moamarias.45
The First Phase o f Revolts

Open conflict broke out after Rajeswar's death when Ragh Neog, a
leading Moran disciple of the Satra, was flogged on 15 September
1769 for alleged short supply of elephants in fulfilment of the feudal
dues. In November 1769 the Morans raised the standard of revolt with
open support from the Satra. They won over three exiled Ahom princes
to their side by diplomatic manoeuvers with the promise of the throne

to each of them. Virtually prisoners in their hands, the three princes
were used to bring dissension into the enemy camp. Led by Ragh
Neog, Naharkhora Saikia (also a Moran), his two kaivarta wives
Radha and Rukmini, Govinda Gaonburha and Bayan Deka, the rebel
forces inflicted defeat upon defeat on the royalist troops and liberated
the entire territory north of the Burhi-Dihing river. Compared to the
royalists, they were ill-armed, many carrying only supposedly charmed
bamboo-sticks. Their strength, however, lay in the intelligence they
received, the guerilla tactics they adopted, and the sympathies they
roused among the common paiks of the royalist camp.46 After a series
of defeats King Lakshmi Singha (1769-1780) was told by one of the
Ahom nobles:
I have found that the attitude and feelings of our people have assumed a
dangerous shape. Those who are sent to the war submit themselves to
the Morans, while others desert the field.47
On another occasion, an Ahom noble was reported to have said :
The fishermen as well as their religious head have no sense of right or
wrong. They are sure to attack the royal boats, plunder the goods and
assault the occupants;.'48 Even among palace attendants in the capital
there were people who regularly leaked out secret information to the
rebel camp.49 Under such favourable circumstances the rebels advanced
and occupied the capital, which remained in their hands for about five
months, from 21 November 1769 to 11 April 1770.
Once sure of victory, the rebels liquidated the three Ahom princes
who were with them and proclaimed Ramananda, son of Naharkhora,
the new king. Coins were struck in his name. The deposed king fled
the capital, but was soon brought back a prisoner. Administration was
cleansed of the nobles. All offices of importance, so long held by blue-
blooded Ahom nobles alone, were thrown open to the commoners.
Three Morans were chosen for the offices of the three Great
Counsellors. Ragh was installed as the Barbarua and two ordinary
Ahoms as governors of Sadiya and Marangi respectively. Similarly
new men were installed in other key posts (excepting one in which the
incumbent was retained). An ordinary kanri-paik of the village of
Kalugaon was sent to Guwahati as the Barphukan, i.e. the governor
and viceroy for western Assam. Rukmini, one of the two women
leaders of the revolt, was also sent to Guwahati to help the new
governor. The deposed officials of the erstwhile regime were executed.
Thus the seizure of power was complete. The entire influence of the
Moamara Satra was thrown on the side of the rebels. Their leaders went
to Khutiapota, the headquarters of the Satra in Maloupathar, to pay
homage to the Moamaria Guru. The abbots of the four great

monasteries of the Brahma-Samhati Order as well as other monasteries
were forced to contribute large sums of money and pay homage, under
severe penalty, to the Guru of the Moamara Satra. For months,
thousands were daily administered sharan by the Moamaria Guru
through a simplified ceremony.50
Evidently the peasant insurgents had an immense hatred for
privileges based on birth ; but in the absence of a revolutionary
programme, they could not think beyond putting new wine in the old
boules. Their desire for social equality and a liberal administration did
not fit into the feudal state apparatus they wielded. The men who led
them came from the upper stratum of a trans-tribal peasant society that
was already exposed to a proces of differentiation. Some of the leaders
came from the Ahomized section of the Moran tribe, and they had held
junior officer's ranks (Neog, Saikia, etc.)under the old regime. Hence,
once installed in the high offices, they tried to ape the erstwhile Ahom
officers in their behaviour pattern. Ragh seized wives and daughters of
many Ahom nobles and kept them in his harem.51 In fact, as the new
Barbarua, he demonstratively coveted all the symbols of power and
privilege the Ahom nobles had till then exercised. The Guru of the
Moamarias, who was the de facto owner of the huge properties of their
Satra, pleaded for a compromise with the traditional nobility.52 But
nobody listened to him. A section of the Moamarias was not satisfied
with a mere change of government. Headed by Bayan Deka and
Govinda Gaonburha, they left the capital in disgust and set up their
headquarters at Sagunmuri. With bamboo-sticks in-their hands they
roamed about the countryside, singing rousing mystic songs of which
only some obscure fragments have survived. 'Oh people : the time is
out of jo in t; hold your sticks ready’ appears to have been the refrain of
one of the songs they sang.53
The rebels had turned the old land-revenue-cum-militia system
upside down. But meanwhile the surviving nobility took full advantage
of the dissensions in the rebel camp. A coup was planned in a secret
meeting in which an ex-queen in Ragh's harem took the leading part.
The royalists assassinated Ragh in his harem on 11 April and
reoccupied the capital. The defeat of the insurrection of 1769-70 was
followed by a general massacre of the Moamarias all over the country.
Among the thousands killed in action or executed later were
Ramananda, whom the rebels had set up on the throne ; also
Naharkhora, Radha, Rukmini, Astabhujadev and his son Saptabhuj.
After the restoration a Sanskrit drama written by a court puindit was
staged to celebrate the victory. In this drama the pundit, true to his
salt, characterized the civil war as a war between forces for and against
religion. The forces of Shaivism, Shaktism and Vaishnavism were
shown to be on the side of the royal camp, and all sorts of
bandits and 'slaughterers of cows, brahmans and children' on the side of
the Morans. Characters representing the insurgent leaders were
vulgarized in this drama54
The Moamaria forces were liquidated as quickly as they had come to
power. Those at Sagunmuri under Govinda Gaonburha's command
resisted heroically for a while, but were finally defeated. Govinda was
pursued and killed. Yet another group of Moran peasants in the interior
led by Lephera, Paramananda, Obhotanumiya, and Tanganram held out
for about eight months. Finally, they too were completely routed. The
survivors were resettled in new villages.55 Thus the first revolt came to
an end within one and a half years. But the discontent persisted and
spread in new areas where the religious influence of the Moamara Satra
was minimal. The protest demonstration in the capital against the land
settlement by four thousand paiks from Darrang in 1770 has already
been mentioned.
The Second Phase: Foreign Intervention

The Moamarias, lying low since then for more than a decade, raised
once more their standard of open revolt in April 1783. An armed group
of them launched a daring surprise attack on the twin capitals of
Gargaon and Rangpur, but were repulsed after a heavy hand-to-hand
fight. A general massacre of the Moamarias throughout the kingdom
followed, and it continued for one month and a half. The waters of the
rivers could not be drunk and people could not walk along the roads.
Even the water and the fish of the Brahmaputra,' writes a chronicler in
1838, 'became tainted with the stinking smell of corpses. Half the
country was depopulated.'56 Thereafter the kingdom was apparently at
peace, but only for a few years.
The years 1786-94 once more witnessed people's uprisings on a
scale unprecedented both in tom s of their sweep and grip. The Morans
north of the Dibru river once more rose in revolt under the leadership
of Badal Gaonburha and Charal. A people's army consisting of the
Moamarias and Dafla-Bahatiyas was raised by Harihar Tanti at
Japaribhita, a foothills village on the north bank of the Brahmaputra.
The Morans of Rangdoichong too revolted. A contingent of the rebels
then freed Pitambar, a grandson of the late Moamaria Guru, from the
custody of the Auniati Satra.57 Pitambar allegedly performed the
Brahmaghna (brahman-slaying) sacrifice. The Moamarias then occupied
the river island of Majuli. They set on fire the monasteries of Garmur,
Dakhinpat and Auniati—all of the Brahma-Samhati headed by brahman

abbots.38 Later the abbots of Bareghar Satra and Budhbari Satra, both of
Kala-Samhati, were executed presumably for their collaboration with
the royal side.59 The rebels went on taking village after village until
they finally encircled the royal city of Rangpur.
The royal forces were defeated at the important battles of
Sagunmuri and Bhatiapar. In another battle, the forces led by the vassal
chiefs of Rani, Luki and Topakuchi were routed. So critical was the
situation that hundreds of monks of Garmur and Dihing Satras, and
even the Ahom priests, had to take up arms in defence of the tottering
regime. On 19 January 1788 the king and most of its inhabitants fled
the capital. The evacuated city was taken by the Moamarias, and it
remained in their hands for the next six years. The concerted rebel
operations were guided by ordinary people like Harihar Tanti, Kalia
Bhomora, Bidur, Howha, Tamai, Parsad, Phophai, Bharat and
Sarbananda.60 Bharat was a distant, relation of the late Moamaria Guru
in the male line, while Sarbananda was a Matak of Chutiya origin.
No attempt was however made this time to establish a centralized
rebel administration over the liberated areas. Harihar Tanti ruled over a
large tract on the north bank of the Brahmaputra and his lieutenant,
Howha, in the 500 square-mile river island of Majuli. Sarbananda was
elected a Raja in the Moran habitat with his head quarters at Bengmara
(present Tinsukia). Bharat was installed as the King in the capital.
Bharat till 1797, and Sarbananda till 1795, regularly struck coins in
their own respective names—a measure of the stability of their rule. In
that confusion Sadiya was occupied by the Khamti tribe which had
recently migrated into that area from Upper Burma.61
The defeated royalist forces tried to regroup themselves in the
territory south of the Ladoi-Gar Road under the personal leadership of
their prime minister. But there remained no vestige of discipline in the
remnants of the once-powerful militia. Tighting with these same
archers and shieldsmen our kings had vanquished even the foreigners on
numerous occasions, but the very same archers,’ lamented an Ahom
noble, 'become demoralized and terrified at the mere sight of the
Moamarias and take to their heels. ’“ When the local division of the
militia of Bacha, largely composed of Kacharis, was summoned in
April 1789 by the prime minister, they refused to take up arms against
the Moamarias. Battle-razed Upper Assam was haunted by a famine—
the severest in Assam's history. The prime minister initially succeeded
in suppressing sporadic revolts at Bacha as well as the trans-Janji area
and finally in blocking the south-westward thrust of the Moamarias.
But he too had to retreat for a while from his stronghold at JorhaL63
PEASANT UPRISINGS AND THE FEUDAL COUSIS 119
Many of the uprooted Ahom nobles had taken shelter in the

districts of Darrang and Npwgong. These fugitive nobles forced the
local inhabitants to work for them in their farms, plundered their grain
stores and orchards and molested their women. This resulted in an
outburst of popular discontent in both districts. Led by Sindhura
Hajarika, the people of Nowgong besieged the fugitive King's quarters
in 1791 when he was camping there, and forced him to change his
local officers. The discontent spread also among the royal forces then
stationed near Biswanath and Kaliabar. They sided with the local
Moamarias. As the situation proved too hot for him, the King had to
quit Nowgong for Guwahati finally on 11 June 1792.64 Nominally
under a vassal Raja,Darrang was long an integral part of the Ahom
territory and had the obligation of manning a 6000-strong militia post
at Guwahati. In the chaos that had set in, two hundred and forty village
heads of the principality of Darrang conferred together and took a vow
of non-co-operation with the King. They recalled their men and their
two princes from Guwahati. The summons were readily obeyed. This
revolt of the Darrang people was led by Mainapowa, Kalia, Swarup,
Bhotar Konwar and Phatik Hajarika.65
In Kamrup, the Moamaria influence was minimal. The uprising of
a few hundred fishermen there led by a low-born' Ahom named Haidhan
and one Boragi was perhaps the only action which might be cited as an
instance of this influence. They marched on Guwahati and occupied it
on 18 November 1792 after the king had deserted it the previous
night.66 In Kamrup, and to some extent in Darrang, anti-government
feelings were high partly for ethnic reasons. Once subjects of the Koch
Kingdom, the local people looked upon the Ahoms as their conquerors.
Under Ahom rule, there were precautionary restrictions on the entry of
men of Kamrup and Darrang into the towns of Rangpur and Guwahati.
Hence the revolts of Haradatta Chaudhuri, a powerful landlord of N ath
Kamrup, and Krishnanarayan, Rajah of Darrang, had some degree of
popular support in Kamrup. Yet they had to hire a large number of
mercenary Bengal burkandazes to oust the Ahom king from Kamrup.
The initiative in carrying forward the revolt thus passed from the hands
of the common people to oppressive local feudal elements and
brigands. Krishnanarayan came to terms with his sovereign by 1793,
as the latter agreed through the mediation of Captain Welsh to
commute the obligation to supply 6000 paiks for a tribute. Neither
any local monastery nor the bulk of the peasantry were apparently
involved in the Kamrup uprising. Haradatta's rebellion was suppressed
in 1796.67 Phatik Hajarika took shelter in the Bhutan hills as an
outlaw and continued to carry on brigandage from there.
During the trying years of 1786-94, it became increasingly clear to

the royal camp that the age-old militia, now reduced to a rabble, could
no more function as an effective organ of coercion. A few hundred
Bengal burkandazes were recruited to enhance its fighting power.
Military help from the neighbouring Kingdoms of Manipur and Nora
(in Upper Burma) was sought for and received. But despite those
reinforcements the royal forces failed to improve their position. The
attack of the Manipur contingent on Rangpur, for example, was easily
repulsed in 1792 by Bharat's Moamaria forces led by his peasant
commanders—Tuburi, Mekheli, Takachh, Khagun, Meghai and
Kalidhan.68 It was not before the participation of the East India
Company's troops in the civil war during the period from
November 1792 to May 1794 that the situation turned in favour of the
royalists.
Captain Thomas Welsh entered Assam with an expeditionary force
of 550 men only. Despite the superiority of its arms, this small force
would have perhaps met with a disaster had the rebel forces been well
organized. Obviously they were not. Like all inexperienced peasant
revolts pre-dating the birth of a capitalist class, the Moamaria revolts
•
too failed to consolidate their early gains. They had no alternative to

offer to the feudal regime they destroyed in Upper Assam. Welsh's
troops occupied Guwahati without facing any resistance on 24
November 1792 ; and after a few encounters with the Moamarias
restored Rangpur to Gaurinath Singha on 18 March 1794. It was not
because of effective resistance but apparently because of a deliberate
policy of 'wait and see' that Welsh took such a long time to reach the
capital. In early May the Moamarias, led by Bharat, tried to retake the
capital; but after several defeats in its suburbs, they dispersed. On 25
May the interventionist force left the capital and returned to Bengal
with their prize money in July 1794. But aid in the form of arms and
ammunition to the Ahom King continued to flow in.69 However,
within days of Welsh's exit from Rangpur, King Gaurinath and his
entourage had left the capital for Jorhat where Gaurinath died.
The respite gained by King Kamaleswar Singha (1795-1811) did
not stretch beyond a decade. The Dafla-Bahatias and the Moamarias
together kept up their resistance on the north bank until their leader
Phophai died in action in 1796. No sooner were they suppressed than
the Moamarias gave another battle at Chowkihat. The leader, Bharat,
escaped and his religious adviser Pitambar was captured. The latter died
in captivity. The remnants of Bharat's forces, unitedly with the
Singphos (a border tribe), gave yet another battle, but could not stand
before the royalist troops. By then a small standing army, trained and
organized on the British-Indian model and armed with flint guns, had
been put into use by the royalists. Pursued into the forests, Bharat and
his five associates died a gallant death in 1799. The dead body of Bharat
was sent in a boat to the King, and it was later pinned aloft on a post
in a resettled Moamaria village in Khutiapota to terrorize the people.
The royalist forces then reoccupied Sadiya in 1800.70
However, Sarbananda still ruled over the liberated area of Matak
from its capital, Bengmara. Those who had taken refuge in the adjacent
Kachari and Jaintia kingdoms also regrouped themselves along the
borders and persistently harassed the royalist villagers of Nowgong.
Five companies of royalist sepoys equipped with British arms and
ammuntiion were sent to Matak and Nowgong to suppress the rebels.
These troops were lured into the jungles by stratagem and were
completely destroyed in 1802. All their arms and ammunition fell into
rebel hands.71
The situation around the capital, which lay at a distance of barely
three days' march from the rebel headquarters at Bengmara, was also
tense. In 1803 about five hundred people belonging to the secret sect of
night-worshippers (ratikhowalaritiyalritiya) were plotting revolt. The
leading conspirators, including one Panimuwa, were however
apprehended in time and executed. A few neo-vaishnavite abbots were
also suspected of involvement in the sect's unlawful nocturnal
activities. Found guilty of complicity, the brahman abbot of the
Katanipar Satra (of the Kala-Samhati) was banished from the kingdom.
In the wake of the event, heads of all monasteries and their village
representatives were warned against harbouring any night-worshipper.
They were henceforth to pay a fine in case any night-worshipper was
apprehended in villages under their influence.72 In the following year
the allied forces of rebellious Matak refugees and Kachari peasants in
Nowgong were defeated. There followed a massacre of the Moamarias
and their collaborators in November. Some of the survivors were
resettled in Ahom territory, while others escaped into the adjacent
kingdoms. The civil war in Nowgong eventually came to an end in
1805.73
The standing army that was gradually built up with British help
came to consist in due course, of eighteen companies of one hundred
sepoys each—mostly immigrating Hindustanis to begin with.74 Their
pay having once fallen into arrears, there was a levy on all
monasteries, big and small.75 Thus reorganized, the royalist forces
invaded Matak—the last stronghold of the Moamaria rebels—once
more in the winter of 1806.76 Despite initial successes, they however
failed to annex it in the face of a harassing mode of guerilla warfare.
The struggle appears to have terminated somewhat indecisively. The

Mataks reportedly agreed to pay an annual tribute in cash, which was
never paid ; instead they resumed their traditional obligation to pay in
ivory, elephants, etc.77 Matak, a territory of some 1,800 square miles
with its new capital at Rangagara, continued to be ruled by Sarbananda
to whom the tide of Barsenapati was conceded, and after him by his
son. It was subjugated by the British in 1826, and its final annexation
to British India took place in 1839. The principal Satra of the
Moamarias was allowed by the Ahom king to be shifted to the interior
of the Matak principality.
Results o f the Civil war

About one half of the population of the Ahom Kingdom perished
and the economy was totally disrupted. Both parties in the civil war
were ruined. No alternative to the feudel system emerged, since no new
ruling class could germinate from the peasantry which was relatively
undifferentiated, or from its undeveloped stratum of traders and artisans.
The issues became blurred, since the rebels comprised diverse and
nebulous class elements with varying degrees of dislike for the regime.
Nevertheless, the ruling class could no more rule in the old manner.
The Moamarias undermined the myth that only the blue-blooded Ahom
had the right to rule. It was to become increasingly difficult for the
post - Restoration State to appoint all high officers from the
aristocratic Ahom families alone. When, after the first Moamaria
revolt, King Lakshmi Singha appointed an able man of the Kalita caste
in 1772 to the military rank of a Phukan, there was a commotion that
led to the latter's fall; yet later such departures from custom were to
become common. Two Ahom nobles holding office as Great
Counsellors were even dismissed from their offices by Kamaleswar
Singha, on the basis of complaints lodged by the paiks under their
jurisdiction. Such action in favour of the paiks was unprecedented.78
The other significant reform—a by-product of the civil war—was
the formation of a regularly paid standing army on the British-Indian
model. This had wider implications: the State now needed an increased
money-revenue to pay the army. What better source of revenue could
there be than large-scale commutation of paik services for a money
tax ? Indeed, things were already moving in that direction. At the
instance of the British Government, the Ahom Government agreed to
receive an annual payment of Rs. 50,000 from the principality of
Darrang in lieu of the services of 6,000 paiks due to it. The
obligations of the Raja of Beltola were also commuted. Later, during
the period of the Burmese occupation (1817-24), paik services all over
I
Assam were commuted for a money tax. Yet, even without this
intervention, the process of monetization of the paik revenue and the
liquidation of the unpaid militia would have been hastened by the very
logic of the situation. For the interests of the State and the peasantry
had by then a common meeting-point : the latter was capable of
producing a surplus, however small, for the market, and the former had
need of a money revenue. In 1794 Welsh observed that the
'commutation of services would be acceptable to the peasantry'.79
But there were transitional problems. The average peasant's
incapacity to pay a money tax in a currency-short economy still
remained the determining factor, however coveted the chamua status for
him might be. A major section of the peasants, particularly tribal
peasants, had apparently a craving for a return to the tribal ways of life
that had once ensured them a greater measure of social equality and
freedom. Though a semblance of the Ahom feudal hierarchy was
maintained in liberated Matak, the government there was more loosely
structured and the people lightly taxed. A section of the paiks were
allowed to contribute their dues in kind or service as before while
others, particularly migrant settlers, paid a light tax in cash. As a
result, a large number of subjects left their homes in the Ahom State
and settled permanently in Matak. They included not only Ahom and
non-Ahom Moamarias but also disciples of monasteries belonging to
the Brahma-Sam hati.80 To the Morans and other Moamarias
autonomous Matak was a sanctuary where they could breathe more
freely. To that extent tribalism reasserted itself, but only for a while.
S o m e T e n t a t iv e C o n c l u sio n s
This survey of the course of Assam's social history over three

hundred years suggests that the emergence and popular acceptance of
the neo-vaishnavite ideology coincided there with the period of the
consolidation of early feudal formations—a process that was, to that
extent, completed by the end of the seventeenth century. Like the
developing feudalism, the neo-vaishnavite ideology too had a
detribalizing role. Its emphasis on one humane deity in place of many,
and on one common language as spoken by the majority in place of
several tribal languages and Sanskrit, was helpful to the growth of an
integrated valley-wise feudal hierarchy with a sovereign at its apex.
Developing feudalism at this higher stage needed a universal faith that
would uphold the concept of vassalage in the spiritual model and, at
the same time, would have a popular appeal. Neo-vaishnavite faith and
practice—the monasteries acquired feudal properties in due course—

fulfilled this condition. That is why, despite occasional tensions in
mutual relation, neo-vaishnavism emerged as the ideology of feudalism
that permeated the arts, literature and religion of the period. At its
height it was able to absorb folk forms and elemental human values of
the peasant culture in order to rationalize the feudal class content with
the wrappings of a popular and humane culture.
Detribalization to a considerable extent having been achieved and
sustained, feudalism headed towards a crisis in the late eighteenth
century under two pressures : (/) the sharpening contradiction between
the feudal class and the peasantry (the latter, a tribe-peasant
continuum), and (ii) the sharpening contradiction between different
sections of the ruling class over shares of the appropriated surplus.
This situation was also reflected within the sphere of neo-vaishnavism.
No longer could it harmonize the interests of the exploiters and the
exploited, the class and folk elements of culture, within the same
ideological mould. It split Trader and artisan elements within the
society had not developed till the end of our period. They could hardly
offer an alternative to the feudal system in the shape of a new
progressive ideology. Hence there was a revival of some aspects of
tribalism in the ideological sphere.
In the eighteenth century the mainstream of neo-vaishnavism sided
with the rulers. The Kala-Samhati school of vaishnavism with its
emphasis on wider social equality and links with a tribal layer oi
consciousness remained by and large with the people. But the neo-
vaishnavite establishments including the Kala-Samhati had mean
while lost much of their early idealism and acquired vested interests in
the feudal mode of production.81 On the eve of the outbreak of open
hostilities, the head of the powerful Dihing Satra which had, like the
Moamara Satra, a large following amongst the untouchable castes was
won over to the royal side. Heads of other Kala-Samhati Satras like
Bareghar and Budhbari also appeared to have followed suit. Only the
Guru of the Moamara Satra refused to fall in line.
In the phase of the people's armed struggle against the regime, the
Moamaria Guru faltered and he pleaded for a compromise with the
traditional rulers. But he was by-passed by his extremist followers. In
this period the legacy of neo-vaishnavism increasingly appeared as a
fetter rather than a useful weapon in the hands of the people in revolt.82
During the phase of armed struggle, the peasant society—a tribe-
peasant continuum—therefore solicited its spiritual inspiration and
nourishment no longer from the classic form of neo-vaishnavism but
from the age-old magico-religious cult of night-worshippers, an
admixture of tribal fertility rites and debased Tantricism long driven

underground. It had meanwhile been modified and humanized under the
impact of the rising neo-vaishnavism. Thus there was vigorous revival
of the cult during the eighteenth century. The chronicles are full of
references to the performance of magico-religious rites by the rebels.
Understandably, the rebels used the secret nocturnal sessions also for
fomenting discontent and hatching conspiracies, as the case of
Panimuwa referred to above suggests.
The cult still survives in Upper Assam among the same masses as
were once intensely involved in the Moamaria revolts. But so secret is
itspracticcthat scholars have heretofore failed to collect adequate data
for a full investigation. The bare elements of the cult that have come
- to light clearly indicate its form to be congregational and its content
egalitarian. It gave expression to the urge for an escape from the
rigours of the caste society into the millennium of primitive
communism vaguely cherished in the subconscious mind. An outiine
of the cult, divested of local variations and as practised about a hundred
and fifty years ago, is given below with a view to examining its
relevance to the revolts under review.13
Sect members concealed their cult identity and usually followed one
of the neo-vasishnavite Satras, mostly of the Kala-Samhati Order, in
their daily life. From time to time they assembled secjetly at night.
The cult was a queer combination of the principles of bhakti and
mother-goddess worship. The sect members, both men and women
congregated to worship Vishnu through 'left-handed', bacchanalian
practices (vamachara).Thc entire ceremony had its focus on a woman
symbolizing ecstasy (rasa-vishishta), known as bhakti-matr (Mother
Devotion). She sat naked without any make-up in a vacant room. Milk
was poured on her breasts and, after it had touched her genital region,
was drunk by those present at the congregation. Yet another woman in
the role of the hostess called thal-pahari (dish-vendor) served cooked
food and liquor as prasada (offerings). After dinner everybody used the
skirt of the bhakti-matr for a towel to cleanse the mouth. No caste
taboo, nor any kind of taboo against prohibited food like pork and beef,
was observed. Nor was any respect shown to brahmans in particular.
The earthen cooking pots used in the ceremony and the plantain-leaves
on which food was served were not discarded but were preserved for
repeated use on future occasions in the same place or elsewhere. This
nocturnal ceremony was referred to as bhakat-seva (worship of the
fraternity of devotees), to emphasize its congregational aspect.
Chanting of mystic devotional songs and dances were part of the
ceremony. A nocturnal session of rebels organized by Panimuwa in

1803 is described by Dutiram Hajarika in the following words:
Panimuwa and his asociates ale every kind of permitted and prohibited meaL
Naked, they drank wine and sang devotional songs to the accompaniment of
the tokari [a stringed musical instrument].
It was this cult which is frequently referred to in Assamese
chronicles as a-riitiya-m at (unorthodox rites) or as asurii-m el
(diabolical assembly) in the context of the Moamarias. The nocturnal
revelries not only involved indulgence in feasts, drinking, music and
dance but also in sex orgies.®4 Through ceremonial participation in this
bacchanalia, which was supposed to cast a protective spell around and
rejuvenate the participants, the Moamaria rebels were believed to have
acquired their fighting acumen. Sticks allegedly consecrated with
magical charms were also used by them. Beliefs were current that their
charismatic leaders, Radha and Rukmini, in 1769-70 wielded occult
power that made the enemy's cannon balls ineffective. Naharkhora too
was believed to possess a copper plate with magical formula inscribed
on it which was the source of his strength. In the 1780s, Harihar Tanti
reportedly cast a spell on the enemy in the battlefield by throwing
charmed cloth on them.85 These myths were sustained bya reluctance of
the rank and file of the royalist troops to fight fellow peasants and this
resulted in their total demoralization or desertion to the other camp.
The Moamaria Guru whose every advice was not necessarily heeded
was looked upon by the rebels as the symbol of persecuted popular
aspirations. It was in his name that they took the vow :
Protected we are by Astabhuj, Saptabhuj and Chaturbhuj,

By his own sword
The enemy's cut up.
It's his own musket that hits the same side.
And Chaturbhuj protects us.
We will kill or get killed.
Repaid be the debt to our Guru.86
There were devotional songs that struck a deep note of pain and
despair and ended with an urge for defiance of the bodily limitations.
Such songs were generally chanted in chorus in mixed gatherings of
men and women. A palace guard, for example, arranged for the
following song to be sung as a signal to his conspiring comrades who
had planned for launching a surprise attack on the royal premises in
1769:
The camp is well-barricaded,

And formidable are the guardsmen.
Renounce your love for your body,
Or you will be caught in the meshes of your Ego.
Let your conduct be regulated in recollection
of your Guru's injunctions.
The double meaning and symbolism of this song could hardly be
missed.87
Literary evidences and subsequent events suggest that Aniruddhadev
the founder of the Moamaria cult, was unmistakably influenced by the
Sahaj-jan Tantricism of his day. He blended magic and miracles with
the egalitarian content of neo-vaishnavism and was said to have
conceded to tribal ways of life in the matter of food habits, caste and
man-woman relations (annayoni-vichara). Many of Aniruddha's one
hundred and eighty extant songs had a mystic content with a focus on
the human body (dehavichara) and the futility of worldly wealth. The
symbols in use to convey this idea (for example, the futility of the
body was often symbolized by ’kings') were real things of life. They
were often capable of suggesting a second meaning that could serve the
cause of social protest. S. K. Bhuyan wishfully suggests that the
Moamaria discontent was possibly promoted by a literature which was
'revolutionary in tone' and 'characterized by a political and martial
odour1. No such literature is however extant.8*
The course of development from neo-vaishnavism to mass
insurgency, as this study reveals, was a complicated one. It absorbed
many cross-currents of ideas, class interests and layers of social
consciousness. Nevertheless, even while recognizing the mass character
and the complex causation of the revolts, historians have heretofore
tended to label it essentially as a religious war. Such a categorization
does not, however, follow from the available empirical accounts as
restored. Religion was at the most just one of the several relevant and
even important factors. The Ahom Court itself did not view the civil
war as one between two rival religious camps. To them, it was a war
between the forcess of all religions, including vaishnavism, on one
side and banditti on the other. All such 'bandits' were generally
assumed by them to be Moamaria by faith. Moamarias, night-
worshippers and rebels were interchangeable terms in the usage of the
panic-stricken nobility and their scribes who wrote the chronicles.
The insurgency would not have been so widespread had the
adherents of the Moamaria faith alone been the participants. The Moran
tribe—incidentally they were also Moamaria by faith-started the
revolts. But they were soon joined by large sections of the depressed
and discontented people of other ethnic origins. The Morans remained

of course the most determined section in the rebel camp. The vigorous
revival of the secret nocturnal sects in the eighteenth century suggests
that large chunks of the rebels increasingly looked forward to these
sects rather than to the established Moamara Satra for their spiritual
sustenance and inspiration. There were practitioners of the nocturnal
cult not only amongst the Moamarias proper, but also amongst the
followers of other Kala-Samhati Satras. Contrary to the advice of their
abbots who had defected one after another to the royal camp, the bulk
of their disciples—particularly tribal neophytes and untouchables—
joined the rebel ranks. In fact, a majority of Ahoms today appear to
follow several Kala-Samhati Satras which still shelter what remains of
the nocturnal culL89 Chroniclers, for obvious reasons, lumped together
peasant rebels of all categories, and even social bandits who
mushroomed in the chaos, under one and the same category of
’Moamaria', irrespective of caste, creed, race and motivation.
Ethnicity, creed and caste factors should not therefore be
overemphasized while explaining the nature of the revolts. In the given
social milieu there was no longer any Moran-Ahom conflict as such in
racial terms during the period under review. Ahoms, Morans, Barahis
and Chutiyas had all been undergoing a process of merging into a
larger community through free intermarriage and the ongoing
acculturation for many centuries. In that process all the four tribes had
lost much of their separate identities even before their coming into the
fold of Hinduism.90 Popular hatred was directed not against the Ahom
community as such, but against the nobility in general. In fact, like
the others, Ahom commoners too were involved in the revolts.
Similarly, it would be falsifying history to suggest that the
uprisings were basically against the brahman caste. The State had long
been trying to drive a wedge between brahmans and Moamarias,
particularly by enforcing a ban on spiritual ordination of the former by
sudra abbots since 1702. The image of the Moamarias as 'killers of
brahmans and cows' was mischievously projected by court scribes like
Dharmadev Sharma, Maniram Dewan and even by King Gaurinath
Singha.91 In fact, the anti-brahman edge of the Moamaria violence in
Majuli and other places was directed only against enfeoffed priests and
abbots who were on the royal side. The Moamarias had no quarrel with
ordinary brahmans, some of whom were even followers of several
Kala-Samhati Satras including theirs. Even as late as 1803, Sunanda
the brahman abbot of Katanipar Satra (Kala-Samhati) was banished for
complicity in a plot hatched by the rebels.
What appeared to Maniram Dewan as 'Matak troubles' was there

fore essentially 'a now hidden, now open fight' between classes arrayed
broadly in two camps. On one side were, by and large, the temporal
and spiritual lords, and on the other, the peasantry and the
unconsolidated trader and artisan elements that were still linked with
it.92 However,the latter were incapable of visualizing a revolutionary
transformaion of the feudal society. The issue involved was the
restoration of social, political and economic justice either within the
feudal mould itself or through a retreat to a semblance of primitivity.
Popular aspirations often found vicarious expression through a tangled
cobweb of magico-religious faith. But beneath the trappings of the
complex causation there lay hidden the hard economic core—deeper
economic causes than were immediately apparent.
One such economic cause relevant to one stratum of the peasantry
was the need and demand for the commutation of feudal labour-rent for
a light money-tax. The generality of the paiks would have found even
such a money-tax system oppressive. There was perhaps a vague
longing on their part to go back to the 'golden age' of their tribal past,
but that was no more feasible. Nor was it possible for the peasants to
go forward on their own to a higher stage of social development. Hence
the outburst of primitive savagery that matched the royalist terror.
They wrecked, burnt and looted the properties of the nobility and then
fumed and fumbled. Conscious class war or not, the revolts
undoubtedly ruined the economic base of the nobility. The ruination
was completed by the atrocities of the Burmese occuption forces during
the years 1817-24, which event immediately preceded the British take
over. Jenkins observed in 1838 : 'Most of the upper nobility had small
hereditary estates called Khats, which were originally grants of wastes
and cultivated by slaves or their service pykes, and were free from
revenue assessment. These Khats have greatly run to waste.. .'93
The role of the small slave population in the revolts was not very
significant Economically, slaves were not worse off than the kanripaik
peasants. Having no militia duties and being held as valuable private
property, they ran fewer risks. The burden on them was lighter than
that on the peasants. Hence there was no special ground for their being
more militant. At the most they too joined the ranks of the rebel
peasants. As to the role of peasant women, tradition has it that they
actively participated in the insurgency in all its phases in large
numbers.
Our present knowledge of the subject could be further enriched
through sustained fieldwork in local folklore and oral history, a
contents analysis of the rites and literature of the secret sects, an
analysis of the place-names associated with the revolts and their

detailed mapping. Little has been done in this direction by our
scholars. The comparative method of history—there were many
apparently similar revolts in India and in other countries—might also
give us new insights. It is a pity that so little is known about the
leaders of these revolts, particularly about their specific familial, social
and economic circumstances. The chroniclers either did not know, or
they deliberately suppressed the details. Some like Maniram Dewan
even mischievously blackened their roles. Folk memory might help in
resurrecting them. Taking one’s cue from it, one could even tentatively
suggest that the Assamese saying raijei raja (’the sovereign,' tis the
people) had its genesis in these eighteenth-century peasant revolts.
N otes
1. The main primary source for this account is Tungkhungia Buranji [15J. This work
was compiled during the years 1804-6 by Shrinath Duwara, a high state official of
the civil war period who later became the Barbarua. For citation we have used the
Englih version, Tungkhungia Buranji or the History o f Assam 1681-1806AD., tr.
Bhuyan [26], unless otherwise slated.
2. Captain Thomas Welsh, commander the the expeditionary force and J.P. Wade, its
medical officer, were both in Assam during the period from November 1792 to May
1794. Both left firsthand accounts of the civil war.
3. Dewan, Buranji Vivekaralna [8], Goswami, Aniruddhadevar Charitra aru Mayamara

Satrar Vamshavali [16]; Goswami, Maloupatharar Buranji. [17].
4. Bhuyan, Anglo-Assamese Relations.. .[128], 237-57. For quotes, ibid., 250-1.
5. Introduction dated 15 Sept 1932 to the Assamese edn., Tungkhungia Buranji [15],
39 ; Ehuyan [128], 256-7.
6. 'The economic situation is the basis, but the various elements of the
superstructure...political,legal, philosophical theories, religious ideas and their
further development into systems of dogma-also exercise their influence upon the
course of the historical struggle and in many cases preponderate in determining their
form. There is interaction of all these elements, in which, amid all the endless host
of accidents...the economic movement finally asserts itself as necessary’. —F.
Engels to J. Bloch, London, 21/22 Sept. 1890, in Marx and Engels, Selected Works
in Three Volumes. VoL 3 [176], 487.
7. Amalendu Guha, 'The Moamaria revolution : was it a class war T t The Assam
Tribune [157]; The medieval economy of Assam, Cambridge Economic History of
India [160] and the 'Ahom political system : an enquiry into the state formation
process in medieval Assam 1228-1714', Social Scientist, Vol 11, [159].
8. In the Brahmaputra Valley, the arena of the civil war, 64 per cent of the Hindu
population followed Vaishnavism, 15 per cent Shaktism and less than 2 per cent
Shaivism in 1901. —Census of India, 1901, Assam Report [104], 42.
9. Bhuyan [128], 191-3 ; for details, Neog, Sankaradeva and His Times... [180], 347-
51 and Sarma,77i* Neo-Vaishnavile Movement and the Satra Institution o f Assam
[184], 120-121.
10. On the ruins of the Kamarupa empire of North Bengal and Assam there emerged
dozens of hereditary petty chiefs designated as bhuyans. They ruled over groups of
villages and owned enserfed landed estates, with their claims based either on past
royal sanctions or on encroachment on peasant rights. Mostly of high caste and
north Indian origins, educated and well-armed, they formed confederacies from time
to time to fill up local power vacuums. For further details. Gait, A History o f
Assam [149], 39-46 and Neog [180], 48-58.
11. The non-Muslim, non-Christian population of the Brahmaputra Valley in 1881 was
classified into three groups :—(i) tribes uninfluenced by Hinduism, (ii) tribes in the
process of conversion to Hinduism and (iii) Hindu castes. —Census of India, 1881,
Assam Report, [104], 23, 34 and 63-102. The last group constituted only a little
over one-third of the relevant population. The process was noted by E. P. Suck,
ibid.. Ch. IV, 66-74. Also see Table 1.3 above and for an earlier context, Neog
[180], 370.
12. Transplanted wet rice cultivation, though more labour-intensive than that of dry
rice, had a higher per-acre productivity as well as a much lower reproductive seed
consumption rate.
13. See The Tai Migration : Its Impact on the Rice Economy' above
14. For the Tai religion, see Dang Nghiem Van, 'An outline of the Thai in Vietnam'
[140], 188-93 ; Ahom-Buranji, tr. Bania [23], 1-23 ; P. Gogoi, Tai-Ahom Religion
and Customs [152].
15. Neog [180], 366-78; Sarma [184], 63-64.
16. Later biographies of Shankardev state that despite requests from King Naranarayan
he was not inclined to oblige the latter, Neog [180], 120.
17. Ibid., 76-79,132,136-7 and 144.

18. In 1847-48, for example, the 175-acre Satra campus of the densely populated
Barpeta village housed 7,368 monks. In two villages, one of weavers and another of
oil-pressers, each inhabited by two to three thousand people, all were found to be
disciples of the Baipeta Satra. Among the members of the Mahapurushia (i.e.
Punisha and Nika) sects in western Assam, a sizeable section were trader-cum-
cultivalors. Their boats laden with agricultural produce, pottery etc. were to be
found 'in every creek of Assam and as far down as Sirajgajj'. The literacy rate
amongst them was also higher than average. —Dalton, 'Mahapurashiyas' a sect of
vaishnavas in Assam’. JASB. Vol. 20 [901, 455-69.
19. Neog [180], 374-5 and Sarma [184], 181. The date is controversial.
20. Satsari Asmm Buranji [14], 89-99.
21. ibid., 117-8 ; Gait [149], 173-4; Tungkhungia Buranji, tr. Bhuyan [26], 28-30.
22. Ibid., 33-34.
23. Gail [149], 290.
24. For the conditions of various land grants,, see Prachya-SasanavaJi.. .[3].
25. The mililia system as it functioned in later times has been described in several
secondary sources. For instance, W- Robinson, A Descriptive Account o f Assam
[183], 248-51 and Bhuyan [128], 10-11, 339 and 529-30. But how the system
gradually took shape in response to social forces remains in these sources largely
unexplained. In this volume we have tried to unfold this dynamics.
26. For the basis of our quantification see 'Land Rights and Social Gasses' above. It
appears that each officer in general used to be allowed a perquisite of 5 per cent of all
men under his immediate or overall command ; and sometimes even upto 10 per
cent.
27. 'Should the direct producers not be confronted by a private landowner, but rather, as
\
in Asia, under dire a subordination to a stale which stands over them as their
landlord and simultaneously as sovereign, the rent and taxes coincide, or rather there
exists no tax which differs from this form of ground rent Under such circumstances,
there need exist no stronger political or economic pressure than that common to all
subjection to that state. The state is then the supreme lord. Sovereignty here
consists in the ownership of land concentrated on a national scale. But, on the other
hand, no private ownership of land exists, although there is both private and
common possession and use o f land'. —Karl Marx, Capital: A Critique o f Political
Economy, V d. 3 [174], 170—1. Emphasis ours.
28. Bhuyan [128], 399 and Gail [149], 249.

29. One aspect of feudalism, i.e. political decentralisation was more prominent in this
relationship than decentralisation.
30. Satsari Asam Buranji [14], 76-77 ; Gait [149], 175 and 190. Attempts at
standardised land measurements appear to have started since about 1609, but a
regular survey was not undertaken before the 1680s.
31. LakshmiSimhar buranji (mss)[9\ dted by Bhuyan [ 128], 269-70.
32. That the paiks having joined the monasteries in large numbers, claimed exemption
from obligatory service and thus annoyed the State is noted by Gait [149], 173. The
rest of the argument follows from an analysis of the circumstances.
33. Information collated from Sadar-Amin, Asam Buranji /19], 40; Neog [180], 78-7£-
; Barua, Studies in Early Assamese Literature [122], 97; Talish, Fathiya-i-ibriya, tr.
Sarkar,/B0/?S, Vol.l [99], 179-94 ; Welsh, Report on Assam : 1794, reproduced
in Mackenzie, History o f the Relations o f the Government with Hill Tribes o f the
North-East Frontier o f Bengal [170], 374-99. Both Talish and Welsh noted the
absence of a grain market in Assam—a measure of the limited commercialisation.
34. Gait [149], 276.
35. Such alienation of land assumed a threatening proportion in course of the eighteenth
century. Out of the 294, 027 acres of cultivable lands on record in Kamrup, about
half were found alienated for religious and other purposes by 1824. Of the 16,512
registered paiks there, only one-fourth were then in the direct service of the State,
the rest being employed in the service of temples, other land-grantees and the state
officials. Bhuyan [128], 531. According to a provisional land survey of 1825-26,
out of 706, 313 acres of cultivable lands in Lower Assam (i.e. the then district of
Kamrup and parts of then Darrang and Nowgong), 150, 477 acres or 21 per cent
were held under rent-free grants or were otherwise exempted from land revenue
payments. —Barooah, David Scott in North-East India.. .[120], 97-98.
36. Gait [149], 191 ; Bhuyan [128], 37-38 ; Butler. Sketch o f Assam... [132], 214-17.
3T. Sadar-Amin [19], 12-13.
38. According to Hannay, the Mataks are divided into two distinct portions : 'the
Muttucks of the Upper Debroo being Morans, a people who by the traditions of the
country are the remains of an independent tribe called "Bar’ai Morans"... They are
designated Morans or upper nine families of Muttucks. Their lands are high...Their
villages ar scattered.... The other portion of the Mataks was principally found on
the banks of the Sessa, a tributary of the Burhi-Dihing, and were chiefly composed
of Ahoms and other Assamese people who had embraced the Moamaria faith. They
were designated as the lower nine families of Mataks. The upper Mataks (i.e.
Morans proper) were twice as numerous as the lower Mataks.
Yet t third group of people-all non-Mataks and mostly disciples of Brahma-

Samhati Satrai-were largely composed of royal serfs and paiks, assigned to nobles,
spread over a number of landed estates (khat), situated between the Dibru and the
Burhi-Dihing (Rajakhat, Tengakhat, Madarkhat etc). Lower Matak, inhabited by the
last two groups and new migrants, consisted of a much larger land area than upper
Matak. —Hannay, ’A short account of the Moa Marah sect...', JASB, Vol. 7 [94],
671-9 ; Hannay to Jenkins, 4 April 1839, Foreign Pol Proc [35], 14 August 1839,
No. 105 ; Mills, Report on the Province o f Assam [66], appendix P, Lakhimpur.
39. Quotes from White to Jenkins, 26 January 1839, Foreign Pol Proc. [35], 14 August
1839, No. 105.
40. Dhekial-Phukkan, Asam Buranji [22], 96 ; Sarma [184], 86-90, also B uranji
Vivekaratna [8].
41. The head of a Kala-Samhati Satra, i.e. the Guru, is required by tradition to salute
with his knees bending even a devotee of the so-called depressed classes, in return for
the latter^ salutation. But in the three other Samhatis, particularly in the Brahma-
Samhati, the caste privileges have been retained'. —Sarma [184], 202-3.
42. The Morans were contemptuously referred to as 'insectivorous Morans’ (gandhi-

khova). — Tungkhungia Buranji, tr. Bhuyan [26], 65. The Nadials (fishermen) and
the Haris (scavengers) were two of a few untouchable castes. Under the Ahom rule,
they were forced to tatoo their foreheads, respectively with fish and broom marks. —
Gait [149], 265 and Dhekial-Phukkan [22], 89.
43. Ibid., 192 and 249. According to reliable sources, there were only 80,000 paiks
available for state service immediately before the civil war. Buchanan-Hamilton. An
Account o f Assam..[3%]t 36.
44. See Buranji Vivekaratna [8], The voluntary contribution to monasteries took the
form of a regular tithe (guru-kar) which was a customary obligation, institutionalised
in course of the 18th century. The popular saying, 'tithes to the Guru and taxes to
the King’ (gurur kar, Rajar khajana) reminds one of the early Christian precept Give
unto Caesar what is Caesar's, to God what is God’s’. —Sarma [184], 114 and Neog
[180], 332.
45. Sadar-Amin [19], 76-77, Tungkhungia Buranji [26], 66.
46. Tungkhungia Buranji [26] 60-69 ; Bhuyan [ 128], 206-11.
47. As quoted in Tungkhungia Buranji [26], 67.
48. As quoted in Bhuyan [128], 210.
49. Tungkhungia Buranji [26], 66 and 68.

50. Ibid., 70-71.
51. Ibid.
52. See Buranji Vivekaratna [8], Also, cited by Bhuyan [128], 207-8.
53. Tungkhungia Buranji [26], 71-72. The surviving lines in Assamese are "praja oi
jarou rouva, chekani oi chapai dhara".
54. Dharmadev Sharma, Dharmodaya-natakam [7]. I had access to a transcript

temporarily in the possession of late Dandinath Kalita of Tezpur, many years back,
before it was irretrievably lost.
55. Tungkhungia Buranji [25], 75-78.
56. Buranji Vivekaratna [8],
57. Tungkhungia Buranji [26], 95-100 ; Satsari Asam Buranji [ 14], 155.
58. Bhuyan [128], 224.
59. Satsari Asam Buranji [ 14], 157.
60. Tungkhungia Buranji [26], 95-102.
61. Bhuyan [128], 226; Gait [149], 204-5.
62. Tungkhungia Buranji [26], 109.
63. Bhuyan [128], 230-1 and 234-5.

*
64. Ibid., 233-4, 270 and 351. The first attempt to arrest Sindhura at Nowgong
byWelsh's men was foiled in November 1793 by an armed crowd of some two
thousand people. This village Hampden was apprehended and executed later in 1795.
65. Wade, An Account o f Assam... [24], 242-5. Wade compiled his account mainly from
two old Assamese chronicles.
66. Bhuyan [128], 306-9.
67. Ibid., 271-80and 431-2.
68. Tungkhungia Buranji [26], 121-5 ; Bhuyan [128], 229. For commanders' names,
Hajarika and Vaidyadhip, Asamar Padya Buranji [18], 101.
69. Tungkhungia Buranji [261,129-32; Bhuyan [128]. 385-8 and 436-7.
70. Tungkhungia Buranji [26]. 142-8 ; Satsari Asam Buranji [14], 176-7.
71. Letters from the Raja and the Bargohain of Assam, both dated 8 Asharh 1724 Shaka
to Govt of India in Prachin Bangla Patra Samkalan, ed. Sen [81]. 90-94.
72. Satsari Asam buranji [14], 178 ^Tungkhungia Buranji [26], 165-6 and 194-5. The
cult of night worship (ratikhowa) was a legacy of suppressed Tantrik rituals and
tribal fertility rites, associated with mother cults, which persisted in rural protests
within the authoritarian feudal society.
73. Tungkhungia Buranji [26], 152-3,157-8 and 195 ; Satsari Asam Buranji [14], 179-
83.
74. Bhuyan [128], 437.
75. Tungkhungia Buranji [26], 140.
76. Ibid., 191-2.
77. White to Jenkins, 26 Januaiy 1839, Foreign Pol. Proc. [35], 14 August 1839, No.
105 ; Lahiri, The Annexation o f Assam [167], 206.
78. Tungkhungia Buranji [26], 85 and 190-1.
79. Bhuyan [128], 328-9 and 506 ; the quote is from Welsh's Report on Assam in
Mackenzie [170], 374-99. Transitional difficulties however lingered on for decades,
first due to the lack of commercialisation to a sufficient degree and second, due to
the subsequent decrease and chronic shortage in the supply of coins under the given
unsettled political conditions. Nevertheless, even the people of Upper Assam
reportedly preferred money-taxation to the former system provided the rates were
low,—Foreign Pol. Proc. [35], 10 June 1831, No. 58.
80. Hannay to Jenkins, 4 April 1839 and White to Jenkins, 26 January 1839, Foreign
Pol. Proc. [35], 14 August 1839, No. 105. The rates of taxation were much lower
in Matak than in the Ahom kingdom or, even under British administration that
followed. Consequently, emigrants to Matak were 'better-off than most classes of
ryots in Assam' (ibid). Contemporary estimates of Matak's population by British
officers during 1825-39 ranged between 50,000 and 100,000 of which followers of
the Brahma-Samhati monasteries, mostly immigrants, were said to constitute a third
or so.
81. From the mid-18th century the heads of important neovaishnavite monasteries had
to attend the royal court on all special occasions. Royal visits too were paid
occasionally to these monasteries. As a result, some of them soon began to ape the
royal court in their display of pomp and splendour. Their own paiks were organized
into groups headed by Boras and Saikias, as in the State militia, to facilitate the
extraction of labour rent Sarma [184], 186-8.
82. See Bhuyan [128], 205-8. Towards the end of the 18th century, the Moamarias were
no more united under a single Guru. Their original Satra was split into several
independent Satias. Dinjay (1816), Puranimati (Putanipam), Tiphuk, Garpara (1807)
and Madarkhat (1880) were its offshoots. Endle writes that in earlier times Dinjay
was headed by a Kachari (Gaon-) burha, Garpara by an Ahom (Gaon-) buiha and
Puranimati by a Khatwal (Gaon-) burha. S. Endle, The Kacharis [142], 88. The
schism appears to have taken place on considerations of both ethnicity and private
gain.
83. As described by Dhekial-Phukkan [22], 96-97; Asamar Padya Buranji [18], 101.
84. "In A nkila-bhakti no restriction in respect of food and eatables is

observed...Sambala-bhakti consists of sexual enjoyment. Lampatabhakti is the
combination of the above two'. —Sarma [184], 138. His source is an 18th-century
Sanskrit treatise.
85. Bhuyan [128], 198-9 and 223 ; Tungkhungia Buranji [26], 61, 66, 97 and 113 ;
Asamar Padya Buranji [ 18] 101.
86. For the first five lines of the quote, Tungkhungia Buranji [25], 66 and for the last
two lines, Bhuyan [128], 255.
87. Lakshmi Simhar Buranji [2] cited ibid., 256. Our translation slightly differs from
that by Bhuyan. The other suggestive lines of the song, or rather an extant variant
of it, are as follows in a free translation.
Oh brothers ! don't while away your life,

For the forces of Prachanda-bega (Great Speed, i.e., Time) are rushing towards
you !
Don't your senses make you aware
That soldiers have pulled down the stone-walls ?
They’re breaking down the brick-walls, too 7
Footmen of the Yavana have blocked the gates;
Exit is impossible now.
Sounds of horses' trampling on the sea ;
The boat's sure to get capsize 1
Oh Bhogananda!
Practise not devotion at the cost of your body,
Or you'll be caught
Once more in the cobweb of maya.
With variations, some of these and similar lines appear in several songs of
Animddhadev.
Neog points out that the allegory of Prachanda-bega, as found in the Bhagavata-purana,
Book IV, is alluded to in the song. He suggests that though Aniniddha's songs were
used by the Moamaria rebels as signals for action, these did not have any revolutionary
content as such. For his basically different assessment of the character of the uprisings,
see Neog, SocioPolitical Events in Assam Leading to the Militancy of the Mayamaria.
Vaisnavas [181].
88. Bhuyan [128], 256. See also Sarma [184], 138-9. The following fragment of a folk
song is indicative of the 'martial odour' :
’Here is the bow, here's the arrow.

Raise your bow, oh Dekadev !
Let us march to kill the Mulungs
Hold fast the steering oar
Oh Dekadev of Matak !
The boat is full of our clansmen.
89. 'The paka section of the Ahoms, forming probably the majority, follows
undoubtedly a tantric line of worship... It would require further investigation ta
bling to light a fuller picture of their religion...The Ahoms of the paka line are
disciples of such Satras as Ceca, Chaliha, Budbari, Katani, Kardoiguria, Baregharia
and others, all of which are of Kalasamhati'. —Gogoi [152], 22. Paka bhakats are
those who offer cooked food at their worship in congregations.
90. Morans, Chutiyas and Borahis often identified themselves with such categories as
Moran-Ahom, Moran-Chutiya and Chutiya-Ahom, etc., before the Census
authorities in the 19th century. In other words, they did not know where to put
themselves.
91. Dharmodaya-natakam [7], See also Buranji Viveakaratna [8], for fabrications in
this respect The Moamarias were charged with the slaying of Brahmans and cows
in a couple of letters addressed by King Gaurinath to the Govt, of India
92. Quoted from Marx and Engels, Manifesto o f the Communist Party [175], 41-45.
93. Jenkins to the Secy, to the Govt, 9 December 1838, Foreign Pol. Proc, [35], 26
December 1838, No. 94.
7
Colonialization: Years of
Transitional Crisis
Assam Proper, that is, the five districts of Kamrup, Darrang,
Nowgong, Sibsagar and Lakhimpur came under British occupation in
1825. By 1840, direct British administration was uniformly introduced
and stabilized over this entire territory. An attempt is made here to
examine the economic conditions prevailing there immediately before
the successful establishment of the tea industry. The contemporary
accounts of Welsh, Buchanan-Hamilton, Dhekial-Phukkan and
Robinson yield much relevant information which is collated and
summarized below.1
C rops , T echonology , T rade
Crops : At the close of the eighteenth century the country was in a

precariously depopulated state. Even so it was exporting to Bengal in
trouble-free years raw cotton, lac, mustard-seeds, muga silk, ivory and
gold in considerable quantities ; manjit (a kind of vegetable dye—a
forest product), ginger, wax, long-pepper, bell metal vessels and timber
in some quantities ; and rhinoceros and buffalo horns in trifling
quantities. Betel-nuts, although raised on a wide scale had already
ceased to be an export to Bengal. Rice was produced in 'very great
abundance’ and Welsh asserted that 'a scarcity had never been known to
happen from natural causes'. Next to rice the most considerable crop
was mustard. The most common pulse was mah (phascolus max).
Arhar (citisus cajan) was formerly cultivated only for rearing the lac
insect. But later—says Buchanan-Hamilton—it was preserved for its
pulse. Mug and khesari were also cultivated, but on a small scale.
Masur (fine pulse) was generally imported.
Of all warm seasonings which were locally produced the most
common were black-pepper, long-pepper, turmeric, chillies (capsicum),
onions and garlic. Black-pepper was cultivated mostly in lower Assam
and the southern part of Upper Assam. In the early nineteenth century
it had almost ceased to be an export to Bengal, and its production for
local consumption also very much decreased. The decline may be

attributed to availability of cheaper pepper in Bengal from Kerala
Betel-nuts, betel-vine and sugarcane were widely cultivated all over
Assam for home consumption. According to both Buchanan- Hamilton
and Dhekial-Phukkan no refined sugar other than gur was produced in
Assam except, of course, for the royal house in its days. Some
quantities of gur from the Dibrugarh area (Matak) were imported into
other districts. The cultivation of tobacco was more conspicuous in
western than in eastern Assam in Welsh's time. But by 1840 its
cultivation, though still marginal, had a wider spread. Occasionally
rotated with sugarcane, tobacco was raised on rich spots near
homesteads.
Cotton was mostly grown by the tribal people in the submontane
and hilly tracts. With handlooms and spinning wheels in every
household—Brahmins’ and the nobility's not excluded—the demand for
raw cotton was decentralized and diffused all over the country. Imports
from neighbouring hills and the local production of the plains together
yielded a surplus of cotton for the market of Bengal. Similarly, some
quantity of cotton cloth found its way to the hills. The cotton.of
Matak commanded a higher price—four rupees per maund around
1840—because of its superiority, and was much demanded in Kamrup.2
The indigeneous rheea (Boehmeria nivea) plant, cultivated mainly by
the fishermen, yielded material for making ropes and threads for their
fishing nets. Other fibres of marginal importance were jute and mesta.
Jute, unlike today, was grown on small patches on high grounds near
homesteads.
Mustard was almost the sole oilseed and its oil the only edible and
lighting oil. The other oilseed, sesamum, was grown in a small
quantity. No or little oil was extracted from castor-seeds, although
castor plants were cultivated for rearing E ndi silk. As local
consumption of oil was extremely limited because of dietary habits and
an inefficient technique of oil pressing, much of the mustard-seeds were
available for marketing outside Assam.
Sericulture with its several varieties of silk had a broad social base.
The production of mulberry silk (pat) was extremely limited. The
muga silk, fed on the sum trees, had a good and rising demand,
presumably from the embroidery industries of Murshidabad and Dacca
in Bengal. By 1840 traders used to pay advance for its guaranteed
supply. The endi silk, fed on castor plants, had a large market in
Bhutan, Tibet and the neighbouring hills. For sericulture as well as for
the lac industry, there were plantations of suitable trees, generally on
homestead sites. But muga and lac culture were carried on also in
COLOREALIZATION : YEARS OF TRANSITIONAL CRISIS 141
temporarily cleared patches of natural forests-in eastern Assam

particularly. Long-pepper, manjit, gaihian (a kind of fragTant root),
wax, honey, aloe-wood and incense were generally forest products
collected for the market. Wild rubber trees were not known to have
been tapped before the eighteen-forties.
Poppy, unknown before 1770, was already a luxuriant crop in most
parts of western Assam by Welsh's times. By the eighteen-thirties it
was so all over Assam, and eighty per cent of the Assamese population
were believed to be opium addicts.3 Opium was sold in the form of a
piece of cloth, saturated in the juice of poppy and lightly rolled up.
Poppy was the only crop which was regularly watered on the fields.
Indigo and maize cultivations were extremely limited. Barley, wheat
and millets were rare. The potato, introduced during 1825-29, was
firmly established as a new garden crop by 1840.
Technology : The numerous brine wells of eastern Assam were
regularly worked till 1839 with crude implements. But in the last few
years hardly an estimated 3,000 maunds could annually be procured in
this way.4 Some quantity of rock-salt was imported from Bhutan, but
the bulk of the consumption was met from Bengal trade. The
traditional iron-smelting industry of eastern Assam had almost died out
by 1840. So had the craft of washing river sands for gold dust. Potters
were fairly widespread, but a section of them representing a particular
caste did not use the wheel at all. Stone-cutters made plates, cups and
grinding stones. Brick-makers, brick-layers and carpenters were few.
Except in Kamrup, ghee or butter was not produced anywhere. Wheeled
bullock carts, newly introduced in Assam under British rule, were yet a
rare sight. Peasants carried their surplus to markets with loads on their
bodies and in canoes where possible.
Cotton was generally marketed unginned, thus shifting the burden
of processing to the final consumer. Except in Kamrup, there were
generally no professional oil-pressers or oilmen's caste. Oil was
mostly pressed in individual households through a crude manual
process. Rice was marketed, more often than not, in husk. In fact, all
processing techniques, implements associated therewith and available
services in Assam were very primitive indeed in contrast with the
average Indian standard of the day. With only a little exaggeration
David Scott described Assam in 1831 as a country
where boats continue to be made from the trunks of trees, where
the use of a saw, a wheel or carriage is unknown, where the
native cannot make marketable butter, sugar or oil and where
half the surface of a rich soil...lies waste and is considered
absolutely worthless from the ignorance of the means of

making use of it.s
However, it should be remembered that Assam's population was

already reduced by 1826 to an estimated third of what it had been sixty
years ago. A large number of artisans had also been carried away as
slaves by the Burmese.
Trade : No quantitative data of agricultural production can be
expected for this period. However we are fortunate to have some
statistics of the approximate volume and value of Assam's trade with
Bengal for the years 1808-09 and again for the years 1833-34 and 1834-
35. These figures have been reproduced in Tables 7.1 and 7.2. The
Bengal trade probably represented less than half of Assam's total
external trade during the period 1800-35. We are told that the annual
trade between Assam and Bhutan alone was estimated at rupees two
lakhs in Buchanan-Hamilton's days. Assam bartered lac, dried fish,
muga and endi silk for Bhutan's woollens, gold dust, salt, musk,
ponies, yak tails and Chinese silk. Similarly trade was carried on with
Tibet and, to some extent also with Upper Burma. Assam received a
part of her supply of bullion from these sources, which was partly used
to pay for her trade deficit with Bengal.
The Bengal trade was mostly limited to bartering a single import,
salt, for assorted products of Assam. The trading capital and initiative
were mostly in the hands of merchants from outside Assam, except in
the trade in mustard-seeds. The former customs check-post with its
oppressive tariff rates continued to be in existence at the border until it
was abolished in April 1835. The available customs returns show not
only the relative importance of certain export products and their average
values, but also the trend in terms of trade.
P angs of T ransition : T he M oney D rain .
The early years of British administration were years of painful and

difficult transition. The old khel7 system of revenue settlement based
on periodic service and/or in-kind payment was gradually replaced
during these years by a new proprietory system involving payment of
ryots' dues to the Government in cash. This itself, other things
remaining the same, would have put Assam's barter-oriented, money-
short economy under severe strains. In fact, the situation was made far
worse. The mint of the Assam Rajah—the immediate source of local
currency—was put out of operation. But British-Indian currency did not
flow into the area in sufficient quantities. Even an increase of exports
COLON1AUZATION : YEARS OF TRANSmONAL CRISIS 143
in the thirties could hardly help in such a situation. For export goods
were generally bartered for salt. Ultimate gains from trade accrued
mostly to the salt traders of non-indigenous origin in the form of a
surplus held outside Assam. In all probability the trade surplus, as it
appears from the tabulated trade statistics was not a regular feature even
during the thirties. A part of the export value in 1834-35 represented
the value of goods received by the Government in lieu of land revenue
dues. It was a part of remittance to Calcutta, the headquarters of the
Presidency. Hence we argue that the actual trade surplus was less than
what it appeared to be during 1833-52. In any case, it was too meagre.
The Government’s revenue collection in local currency was
annually remitted to Calcutta for recoinage. But there was practically
no flow-back as the remittance represented a surplus of revenue over
local disbursements. This part of traffic which went on for at least a
decade involved the withdrawal of a considerable quantity of circulating
media (Table 7.3). Thus the economy was caught into a situation of
acute money shortage. The situation improved in Lower Assam after
1835, but continued to be as bad or even worse till the end of the
thirties in Upper Assam. An annual tribute of Rs. 50,000 was exacted
from the latter, which had the status of a native state during the period
1833-39.
The surplus realised from revenue was itself questionable. In former
times, the existing network of road-cum-dams, so essential for Assam's
wet-rice cultivation, used to be constructed and maintained at public
cost In other words, a considerable proportion of the state revenue,
collected in the form of so many units of unpaid labour service was
spent on the public works. But during 1825-40 no such public works
or even repairs thereof were undertaken, presumably much to the
detriment of agricultural production. Even a modest public works
policy would have otherwise helped disbursement of new Calcutta-
minted coins, which were declared sole legal tender in 1835.
Another difficulty was rooted in the very composition of the
government personnel. 'Of the public money that has gone to defray
the establishments—civil and military (all foreigners with scarce an
exception)' admitted Francis Jenkins in his report on Assam (1833), 'at
least one half has been remitted out of the province, whilst all surplus
revenue, above these expenses has been withdrawn to the treasuries of
the Government'.*
The resultant money-crisis made it difficult for the peasant to pay
off his dues to the Government. Spurious coins and multiplicity of
currency in circulation—rajmohari, narayani, sicca and Feraccabad
coins with their fluctuating and conflicting balta—further aggravated
the crisis. It was in this situation that a part of the fortunes of the non-
indigenous trading community was invested in usury. The rate of
interest charged could be as high as ten per cent per mensem.9
Prices appear to have been abnormally low in 1830. In that year it
was recorded that a revenue defaulter's stock of paddy, on sale at a
public auction, fetched only twelve rupees per one hundred maunds i.e.
twelve paise per maund.10 Our Table 7.1 shows that the value of paddy
at the border customs-point was uniformly calculated at approximately
six annas per maund for three successive years till 1834-35. It sold at
five annas in Darrang in 1835 (Table 7.4). The normall price of paddy
during the thirties may, therefore, be taken as five to six annas per
maund. In the interior it was cheaper, but fluctuated widely from place
to place. For example, paddy sold at four maunds a rupee and salt, at
four seers a rupee in the interiormost district of Lakhimpur in 1838.
Cleaned rice was valued at twelve to fourteen annas at the export point
during 1832-35. It sold at twelve annas per maund in Darrang in 1835.
But in distant Matak it was sold atOnerupceaimaundto the soldiers in
1835.11 However, the average price of cleaned rice during the thirties
may be taken to be about twelve annas. It is to be noted that the export
of rice in some years was rather exceptional and also that there was
little market demand for home consumption.
Compared to 1808-09, the prices of lac and muga silk in the
thirties had increased no doubt, but those of mustard-secds and cotton
recorded a slight fall. The export earnings did not help to meet the
requirements of a monetized revenue system under the peculiar local
circumstances explained above. Consumption of imported salt, which
was slightly cheaper than in 1808-09 in terms of muga and lac but not
mustard, did actually fall by the thirties. This indicates that either the
consumers were worse off than in 1808-09, or their number had further
decreased meanwhile. The average prices of export goods as derived
from our trade statistics however do not reflect the prices received by
the actual producers. Non-indigenous middlemen were in complete
control of the internal and external trade, except that of mustard
seeds, during the thirties. A farmer in Darrang used to receive in 1833
only some thirty-eight to fifty-six per cent of the export value of lac,
mustard-seed and muga silk, as would be evident from Table 7.4.
The general shortage of cash forced the administration to receive in
kind the revenue dues of such articles as command a certain market and
are not of a perishable nature as gold, ivory, mooga, silk, munjit and
cotton cloth... at many places. 'Cloths of certain fixed dimensions,
salt, iron-hoes and other articles in general use' circulated as money and
were accepted in setdement of land revenue demand. These were later
COLONIALEATION : YEARS OF TRANSI'nONAL CRISIS 145
put on sale to traders.12 This arrangement, however, could not be a

general and regular one. The defaulting farmers therefore fled their
homesteads in hundreds in order to squat on wastelands in remote areas
and evade taxation. In many cases they sold themselves and their
children into slavery for a trifle. The early administrative reports of
British officers are full of such stories of migration causing
depopulation in the erstwhile populous villages. Slavery—finally
abolished by Act V, 1843—was 'daily obtaining a greater hold in
Assam', wrote Rutherford in 1833.13 Such a plight was but natural
under the disturbed circumstances and a groping administration. Whilst
commerce is almost dormant ; whilst the Government assessments
have in their realisation proved to be excessive imposts and every
surplus rupee thus raised besides a large proportion of the salaries of
the whole of the establishments is drained out of the province', wrote
Jenkins, 'it would be preposterous to expect that its prosperity should
not be on the decline'.14
These circumstances of the transitional phase, the outbreak of
cholera epidemics in 1827-28 and again in 1835-36 and an alarming
increase in opium addiction—all these lead us to believe that the
population crudely censused at seven to eight lakhs around 1826,
remained almost stationery till 1840 (Table 7.5).
R o a d s To G r o w t h : A R e s o u r c e -B a s e d S chem e
Both David Scott, the Agent to the Governor-General (1825-31) on

the northeast frontier of Bengal and Francis Jenkins (1834-66) who had
first come to Assam in 1831 on a special survey duty and later headed
the Assam administration, were men of enlightenment, ability and
wide outlook. Both had a deep understanding of the problems on the
spot. According to both, the ultimate solution to the problems lay in
developing as fast as possible the export potential of the region. Only
then, they argued, would it be possible to get out of the situation, of
which the money crisis was but one aspect. However, the practical
policies as recommended by these stalwarts represented altogether
different approaches. Their recommendations which came for
consideration of the Company's Government one after another are
examined below.
While pointing out in 1830 the disastrous impact of the annual
drain of the province’s surplus revenue to the Presidency in the form of
withdrawn coins, Scott suggested that at least a part thereof be invested
in the purchase of the local opium for export on Government account
and in establishing sericultural demonstration farms.15 Indigenous
opium was not yet available in a standard form. But he asserted that the
poppy cultivators could be induced through a scheme of Government
advances to produce opium in the standard form and to sell it at a price
of about four and a half rupees (sicca) per seer to the Government
Although this price was slightly higher than that of Bihar opium, he
urged upon the Government to treat Assam as a special case in
allowing her a share of the opium monopoly. He also hinted that
through such first steps alone the output of this injurious drug could at
least be partially siphoned off from local consumption.
Sericulture was the other lever in Scott's scheme of uplifting the
economy. He suggested that both mulberry and muga silk might be
prepared in large quantities and of a superior quality. This would be
possible only if the Government came forward with 'that preliminary
interference which can alone prove effectual in the existing state of
society in Assam.' Export of bulky commodities like rice had no future
on a commercial scale because of difficult river transport. The only
policy left to the Government therefore was, he said, to encourage the
production of more costly articles such as opium, muga and mulberry
silk. There was already a market for muga silk in Bengal, while
markets for the other two were yet to be created. Presumably Scott had
the then profitable raw silk and opium markets of Europe and China
respectively in view.
In Scott's scheme of things improvements were to be tried on the
basis of available local resources and skills. Such improvements would
have then benefited not a handful of specialized groups but the bulk of
the population. Thereby they would have generated diffused cash
incomes, thus helping the farmers to pay off their tax dues. The soil
and climate of Assam were noted to be well-adapted to the production
of sugar, indigo and cotton. But Scott excluded them from
consideration because their development would have involved
'continued European Superintendence'. He pointed out that opium,
muga and mulburry silk, which were already being cultivated by
individual households all over Assam, could be further developed
without involving a European-managed plantation system. Although
the cultivation of mulberry silk had shrunk to an insignificant level by
1830, Scott was optimistic about its revival. For in his times the
mulberry silk of Bengal already enjoyed a good market in Europe.16But
also convincing for him was the fact that sericulture had a widely
diffused base in Assam. Because 'the inhabitants of Assam are already
so universally acquainted with the analogous operation of winding the
silk called Moogah', he observed, 'there is every reason to think that
they would soon become competent to prepare the ordinary raw silk in
COLONIALEATION: YEARS OF TRANSITIONAL CRISIS 147
a manner superior to what can be expected from the cotton-clothed

native of Bengal'.
In contrast to the people of Bengal, the Assamese common people
clothed themselves not in cotton alone but also in varieties of home-
spun silk. Naturally therefore, sericulture like weaving was in general a
household occupation for them. Of the different varieties, the endi silk
did not involve any reeling but was spun off by hand. Reeling of muga
which was done with crude indigenous implements would not fit into
the standard filatures of the day. So immediate modernization was
possible only in the case of mulberry silk.17 In country-wound form,
this silk had no more any foreign market prospects. A new technique
of filature-winding imported from Europe had already been slowly but
successfully diffused in Bengal during 1770-1823. By 1823, the
Company's raw silk exports to Europe consisted entirely of filature-
wound silk.18 So the future of Assam silk lay in its modernization in
this respect
Scott was convinced that modem reelers—he overlooked the cost
aspect—suited the genius of the Assamese farmers. For any person
acquainted with the indigenous mode of winding 'is competent with a
little practice', he agreed 'to perform the same operation on the other'.
Accordingly he put forward a well-thought-out project for the
Government's consideration. This was as follows:
(i) A number of Government-sponsored mulberry plantations were
to be established at favourable sites to demonstrate a better mode of
cultivating the plant and to furnish cuttings for the use of native
cultivators, (ii) Reels 'of a proper description' were to be distributed
amongst the natives and a 'sufficient number of skilful Bengal spinners
entertained to instruct' the villagers in the operation of winding, (iii) A
Commercial Residency on a small scale was to be established at
Guwahati in order to create a steady demand for Assam silk, to look
after the continuous perfection of its processing and for 'keeping up the
knowledge of this art amongst the inhabitants'.
The whole cost of initially planting a tract of some 330 acres and
of free distribution of 500 modem reels was estimated at sicca rupees
12,000 to 15,000—not a big sum in the context of the recurring
annual revenue drain. In his eagerness to have the project sanctioned,
Scott assured that the proposed demonstration farms were expected
ultimately to be sold or let 'at a rate sufficient to indemnify
Government for all expenses incurred'. The outlay was expected to
produce 'a much more than proportionate return in the increase of the
revenue resources and general prosperity of the country'. Even so, if the
Government did not feel encouraged, he was prepared to finance the
experiment by an extra cess levied upon the inhabitants. Scott's

emphasis on raw silk can be traced as far back as 1826 in his letter to
Swinton dated 18 September.
In yet another letter to the Government Scott recommended a policy
of encouraging technical training in preference to the literary education
which was then being imparted through a network of Government-aided
traditional schools. He represented to the Government that an amount
be spent from the provincial revenue for imparting lessons in arts and
crafts such as carpentry and husbandry. The development of industry
and technical skills could be left~to evolutionary forces, he said, only
'in the ordinary state of political societies'. But when a Government is
placed so very far in advance of its subjects in point of information as
in our case in Assam', it should not, said he, wait for the introduction
of improvements *by chance' or 'in the ordinary progress of events' but
should expedite such improvements 'with certainty and at once'.19
We have quoted Scott at length to show that even as far back as
1825-31 he had a coherent set of ideas for making the transition of an
underdeveloped region less painful. His idea of erecting western
techniques on the basis of existing manual processes, his selection of a
single broadbased commodity like silk as the lever to diffuse skill and
additional incomes, his advocacy of the Government's entrepreneurial
or pioneering role under the given circumstances—all these have a halo
of sense and modernity even in today's context. However, the
authorities turned down his proposal as a doubtful experiment.
Undaunted, he commenced a twelve-acre mulberry plantation in
Darrang in 1831 through the utilisation of convict labour. He brought
expert reelers from Rangpur (in Bengal) to teach the people of Darrang
and Nowgong the improved methods of winding silk. After his
premature death towards the end of the same year his successor
Robertson (1831-34) had to bring the experiment to a close in
December 1832 for lack of funds.20
R oads T o G row th : A S chem e O f C o l o n iz a t io n
That 'preliminary interference' invoked so urgently by Scott in

favour of a policy of resource-based development but refused by the
Government was, however, not lacking in support of the alternative
line recommended by Jenkins three years later.21 His scheme of
colonization received the prompt consideration of the Government even
before the feasibility of tea culture in Assam was firmly established.
By then the Charter of 1833, which marked the final ascendancy of
British industrial interests over the mercantile interests, had become the
COLONIALEATION : YEARS OF TRANSITIONAL CRISIS 149
unmistakable water-shed between his approach and that of Jenkins. The

Charter for the first time allowed Europeans on a large scale to hold
land in India, either on long-term lease or with freehold rights and thus
paved the path of colonial capitalism in that region.
In his report of 1833 Jenkins pointed out the necesity of
undertaking some public works as an immediate measure to generate a
flow of cash into the money-short economy. At the same time he
sugested:
the settlement of Englishmen of capital on the wastes of these frontiers
seems to me to offer a better prospect for the speedy realisation of
improvements than any measures that could be adopted in the present
ignorant and demoralised state of native inhabitants.
Jenkins discouraged any halt in the process of monetization of the
revenue system and in the move towards the creation of absolute
propery rights in land. 'To obtain the full advantages that could accrue
from European settlers' said he, 'it appears to me that the grants must
be altogether free-hold,subject to no other condition than the payment
of a fixed and unalterable rate of rent and absolutely unincumbcrcd with
any stipulations in regard to ryots or subtenants'.
The whole idea was to attract a class of European planters along
with their capital to Assam's wastelands which were deemed suitable
for the production of sugarcane, indigo and such other commercial
crops. Jenkins would not mind even the displacement of local ryots
from their lands by favoured colonists through the operation of a
discriminatory land revenue policy, in the so-believed long-run
interests of the former. He was afraid that 'if the government
assessments upon the natives where generalised and not heavy', they
would not be available as tenant-cultivators under European planters. In
that case introduction of cash crop farming would be inhibited. On the
other hand, if ordinarjtcultivation were heavily taxed, the ryots would
be forced to leave their farms and work for cash crop-oriented capitalist
farmers. In that case, the difference between what used to be paid by the
ryots towards land revenue and the lower average to be paid by the
colonists would first appear to be a loss to the stale no doubt. But the
large quantities of wastelands brought under tillage and other
improvements, said Jenkins, would soon cover this loss. The two
premises of this colonization thesis were : (i) that a large number of
local people had no means to provide for themselves ploughs, secd-
grain and catttle, and (ii) that the colonists would be able to make
necessary advances to the former for growing export-oriented cash
crops. Jenkins was of the opinion that the ryots in the new set-up
would be sufficiently protected by the general interest of the colonists
TABLE 7.1
Assam's Trade Statistics, 1808-09 (Estimated at Goalpara, opposite Hadira Chowki)
Quantity Value in Average Quantity Value in

Exports in nuis. Rs. (sicca) price (per Imports (in mds.) Rs. (sicca)
md.) Rs.
(1) (2) (3) (4) (6) (7)
Paper 50 500 10.0 Salt 35,000 192,500

Mustard-seed 15,000 20,000 13* Fine Pulse — 800
Long-pepper 50 300 6.0 Ghee 1,000 1,600
Manjit ------- 500 ------ Sugar — 1,000
Elephant-tusk ------ 6,500 --- Stone-beads, corals,
# m m m
• jewel and pearls —
Muga thread 65 .. 11,350 75.0 Cutlery and Glassware
(European) — 500
Muga cloth 75 17,500 233.3 Muslin — 10,000
Cotton (with seed) 7,000 35,000 50 Taffeta, Kinkhap, Satin and
other luxury cloth — 4,500
Table Contd. to next page

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) «9 0
Lac 10,000 35,000 3.5

Bell-metal vessels — 1,500 Woollens (European) — 2,000
Iron-hoes — 600 Copper — 4,800
Thaikal fruit (medicinal) 50 150
Slaves 100 (Mo.) 2,000
Red lead 1,000
Paints ------ 500
#
Spices ------ gppjPliiyu.IBB
Shells ------ 100
TOTAL 130,900 228,300
NOTE : The tabulated quantities and their total values were estimated by Buchanan-Hamilton on the basis of customs returns. The
average price has been deduced by us. The adverse trade balance of Rs. 97,400 was settled for in gold and silver. The average
price of imported salt comes to Rs. 5 50 per md.
* As against this high export price of mustard-seeds the actual price paid to the peasant was low—around 8 as.—according to the
same source p. 36.
[ SOURCE IBuchanan-Hamilton, An Account, 1807-14 [36], 45-46. One md. = 40 seers of 84 Trsicca weight for a. seer. ]
TABLE 7.2
Assam's Trade Statistics 1832 to 1835 (Recorded at Hadira Chowki)
26 December 1832 to 30 April 1st May 1833 to 30 Aprii 1834 1st May 1835 to April 1835
1833 (four months)
Commodities
Quantity Value Average Quantity Value Average Quantity Value Average

(in md.) (Rs.) price (in md.) (Rs.) Price (inmd.) (inmd.) (Rs-)
Price
(permd.) (permd.) Rs. Rs. (permd.)
Rs. Rs.
w (2) 0) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (10)
Export:
1. Pepper 2 Srs. 2 50 833
2. Mustard-seed 37,384 51,403 137 83,457 62,593 075 162,705 162,705 100
3. Rice 405 329 081 1,482 1303 0 88 5,898 4,423 075
4. Paddy 40,537 15,201 037 17,586 6,595 0 38 8,996 3373 0 37
5. Wax 8 152 1900 47 865 1840 29 598 20 00
6. Long-pepper 227 1,135 50C 270 1,488 551 504 2,847 565
7. Manjit 268 1,340 5'OC 1,957 13,885 710 2,246* 13,636b --------------
8. Elephant-tusk 60 7,141 120 02 134 13,520 10090e 147 14,154 9628e

9. Lac 3,064 36,768 1200 3563 ‘ 44,381 1246 3293b 36,105b 1096
10. Muga thread 70 13,973 19961 291 58,220 200 07 225 53,890 23951
11. Cotton (with •
seed) 3,727 16,769 4*50 8,543 38,957 456 6,967 3383 (?) —
12. Elephants (No.)
sundries 2,561 7,557 9,071
Grand Total 146,772 249367 304,186
Table contd. to next pa

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) ( 7) (8) (9) ( 10)
Import:
1. Pepper 81 143 4*48 78 885 11*40 91 1.361 14 92
2. Salt 10,646 43,914 4 12 31,008 155,037 5 00 31,223 140,502 4 50
3. Sundries 14,950 88,133 105,530
Total Imports 59,007 244,055 247,393
NOTE : (a) Two kinds of manjit, shown together.

(b) 37 mds. of lac valued Rs. 367 in 1833-34 and 638 mds. of lac valued Rs. 6529 in 1834-35 were known to have been
smuggled out. Figures in the Table do not include these amounts. There was no attempt to smuggle out muga, raw cotton,
mustard-seed and paddy, as there were no duties on these.
(c) Average price of elephant-tusk varied from Rs. 30 per md. for inferior ones to Rs. 120 per md. of superior ivory. So the
average in the Table is not meaningful.
C?) The figure obviusly involves a printing mistake.
SOURCE Capt. Davidson, Principal Assistant to Governor-General’s Agent in Assam. Reproduced with slight adaptation from
Pemberton, The Report on the Eastern Frontier, 1835 [70] Tables 12-14.
in keeping their lands cultivated and, as such, would not require any
Govenment interference in this sphere.
This idea of introducing foreign enterprise, capital and skill in
agriculture caught the imagination of the Board of Revenue and the
Governor of Bengal.22 Meanwhile the growing prospects of tea culture
in Assam—the formation of the Tea Committee in early 1834, the
starting of the Government Experimental Tea Garden in 1836 and the
first successful manufacture of Assam tea in December 1837—all these
made Jenkins' scheme of colonization all the more acceptable. To make
the wastelands available for cultivation of special crops a set of rules
were framed. These in their final shape were known as the Wastelands
Rules of 1838 until their revision in 1854 (Table-7.6). These rules,
providing for long-term leases of land to applicants, did not
discriminate against indigenous inhabitants as such, but were
apparently framed in such a manner as to exclude them from all
concessional grants in practice. No grant for agricultural purpose could
be made of an extent less than one hundred acres and to any applicant
who was not in possession of capital or stock worth at least three
rupees per acre. Under these conditions, only Europeans could avail
themselves of the concessions.23
Under the provisions of the Charter of 1833, the East India
Company ceased to function as a commercial interest, while still
constituting the local government. Its mission was henceforth to
facilitate the importation of British private capital into India and
promote an Indian market for British manufactures. With the increasing
prospect of tea-growing there, the opening up of Assam naturally came
up on its agenda. At the initiative of the famous Agency House of
Carr, Tagore and Co. a joint enterprise of European and Indian
capitalists of Calcutta known as the Bengal Tea Association was
formed in 1838. Almost simultaneous attempts were made by leading
capitalists of London to take advantage of the situation. Ultimately, as
a result of the successful negotiations between Calcutta and London,
the two parallel moves underwent a merger, leading to the formation of
the Assam Company in 1839.24
The transitional period of 1825-40 was a period of all-round
stagnation. Yet it saw the sowing of seeds that were sure to germinate
one day. Western education had its slovenly beginnings with the
establishment of the first English school in 1835. But more important
for the economy, a start was made with the tea industry. In 1840 two-
thirds of the Government Experimental Tea Gardens were transferred to
the Assam Company free of rent for at least the first ten years. The
first year's crop of 10,202 lbs. from 264 acres under mature plants was
COLONIAUZATION : YEARS OF TRANSITIONAL CRISIS 155
sold at an average price of three shillings (Re. 1 & 8 as.) per lb. in
London.25 All developments in subsequent years centred round tea and
the Assam Company. But the idea of British farmers permanently
settling down in Assam did not materialize because of the fear of a
hostile climate.
TABLE 7.3
Revenue Receipts and Disbursement: Assam Proper
Assam Receipts Disbursements Revenue Surplus1

•
Deficit
RsJSicca) Rs{Sicca) RsjfSicca)
Lower Assam %
1824-25 118,723 29.538 89,185

1825-26 202,061 92^13 109,548
1826-27 178,686 125,015 53,671
1832-33 183,196 n.a. n.a.
Upper Assam
1825-26 28,058 27,834 224
1826-27 46,073 40,731 5,342
1827-28* 38,835 61,695 -22,860
1828-29 78,452 36,166 42,286
1829-30 90,060 53,921 36,138
1830-31 89,465 54,883 34,582
1831-32 72,136 n.a.
1832-33 99,928 n.a.
Revenue Tribute Trans
Receipts ferred to
under Rajah British Noith-
Purandar's Eastem Agency
Management
1833-34+ 69,450 50,000
1834-35 70,150 50,000
1835-36* 64,254 34,000
1836-37 54,449 28,000
1837-38 42,216 --------
* Cholera epidemic year explains (he deficit

+ Naduar, yielding Rs. 10,000, had been transferred in this year to Lower Assam.
This accounts for the fall in revenue in Upper Assam under the Rajah, partially.
[SOURCBFor 1831-32 and 1833-34, Jenkins to the Secy., 30 Chail 1759 Salea, Foreign
PolProc [35], 10 June 1835 ; also Mills, Report on the Province..., 1854 [66],
Appendix A. For the rest Barpujari [124], 37 and 110].
TABLE 7.4
Prices in Darang District: 1833 and 1835
1833a 1835b
Commodity Price Price Export Commodity Local

received received value Price
by by (per md.)
farmers hawkers
>
Rs. As. Rs. As. Rs. As Rs. As.
00
♦Lac (per md.) 3—0 4—6 Paddy 0— 5
1
o
to to to
00
7—0 10 — 0 Rice 0 — 12
1
Mustard-seed 0— 8 1— 6 Mustard-seed 0— 8
(per md.) to --- to
1 -0 1 — 14 Tobacco 3— 8
Muga Silk 2 — 12 3 — 10 5—0 Mustard oil 5—0

per seer to to to
ON
oo
CO
00
4—9 Black pepper 20 — 0

1
1
* At the close of the thirties, the estimated annual export of lac was about 20,000
mds., and its value varied from Rs. 5 to Rs. 9 per md. according to Robinson
[183], 239.
SOURCE;(a) For 1833, T. Hugon in Bengal Political Consultations [32], 30 May 1833,
No. 82.
b) Mathie to Jenkins, 15 February* 1835, [28].
TABLE 7.5
Population of Assafh Proper
1826a 1853b 1872
Kamrup 300,000 387,775 * 561,681
Darrang 89,519 185,569 235,720
Nowgong 90,000 241,300 260,238
Sibsagar about 159,573 317,799
Lakhimpur 250,000 85,296 121,267
Total 7 to 8 lacs 1059,513 1496,705
NOTE: Territorial adjustments made between districts from time to time affected their
respective populations only marginally, except in the case of Nowgong
between 1826 and 1853. A portion of the erstwhile kingdom of Jaintia,
COLONIA LIZ ATION : YEARS OF TRANSITIONAL CRISIS 157
Dantipur, with an estimated population of 15,000 was added to Nowgong in

1835. By 1853 a portion of the Naga Hills aljo came under its jurisdiction.
SOURCES : (a) Dhekial-Phukkan [200], 74-75 ; M’Cosh, [173], 128-9.
(b) Mills, Report. 1854 [66] App. Al.
TABLE 7.6
Wastelands Settlements Rules : Revenu Rates
Rules, March, 1838 Rules, 23 October, 1854

Three categories of wastelands Irrespective of categories
of wastelands
Under Under Reeds Under Land Revenue Land Revenue
Grass & High Grass Forests per acre per acre
First 5 yrs. First 10 yrs. First 20 yrs. Nil First 15 yrs. Nil
6-8thyrs. ll-13thyrs. 21-23rd yrs. 9 as. 16-25thyrs. 3 as.
9-30thyrs. 14-35thyrs. 24-45th yrs. Re. 1-2 as. 26-99th yrs. 6 as.
One-fourth of grant revenue-free in perpetuity One-fourth of grant revenue.
free in perpetuity
SOURCE • Tabulated from information in Baden-Powel,
The Land Systems, Vol. 3 [75] 410-15.
N otes
1. Welsh, 'Assam-an interesting account of the ancient system of government in
Assam', Foreign Pol. Proc. [35], 24 Feb. 1794, No. 13A. The same is also
reproduced by Mackenzie, History o f the Relations.. .[170]; Buchanan-IIamilton,
An Account o f Assam.. .[38], 58-63 ; Dhekial-Phukkan, Assam Buranji [22],
104-11 ; Robinson, A Descriptive Account of Assam [183], 65-91.
2. Hannay, JASB, Vol. 7, August 1838 [94], 677 ; Robinson [183], 67 and 330.
3. G. Lamb to J. Hutchinson, Secy. Medical Board, Dacca, 30 March 1831,
Foreign Pol, Proc. [35], 15 April 1831, No. 93A.
4. F. Jenkins to Secy, to Govt., 30 Chait 1759 shaka, Foreign Pol. Proc. [35] 16
May 1838, No. 53. He gives actual production figures for some of the wells.
5. Quote from Scott to Swinton, 18 May 1831, Foreign Pol. Proc. [35], 10 June
1838, No. 50, para 48. A great number of Assamese artisans had already been
carried off by the Burmese invaders during 1817-25. Also See M’Cosh,
Topography of Assam [ 173], 28 and 63.
6. Buchanan-Hamilton [38], 74.
7. For an account of this system refer back to "Land Rights and Social Classes" in
this volume.
8. Jenkins to Secy, to Govt, of Fort William, 22 July 1833, Foreign Pol. Proc.
[35], 11 Feb, 1835, No. 90.
9. Scott to Swinton, Chief Secy to Govt, 17 April 1830, Foreign Pol, Proc. [35],
7 May 1830, No. 51.
10. Ibid.
For 1838 prices, Jenkins to Secy, to Govt, 30 Chait 1759 shaka, as mentioned
in Note 4 above. For Darrang prices, see Table 7.4 above. According to Bengal
Commercial Reports, common rice in Bengal sold at Rs. 1.75 per maund in
1832. -See Tripathi, Trade and Finance in Bengal Presidency 1793-1833 [192],
264-5.
Quotations, respectively, from Neufville to Scott on Upper Assam, 29 April
1830, Foreign Pol. Proc. [35J, 10 June 1831, No. 58 ; and from Scott to
Swinton, 17 April 1830, as mentioned in Note 9 above.
Quotation from Rutherford to Jenkins, 28 March 1833, Bengal Pol. Cons. [32],
6 June 1833. For an account of the effects of the transition see Lahiri, The
Annexation o f Assam [167], 225-38. Also see Jenkins to Secy., 30 Chait 1759
shaka, cited in Note 4 above, for comment on rural depopulation.
Jenkins to Secy., 22 July 1833, as cited in Note 8 above.
This section is based on Scott’s letter to Swinton, 17 April 1830, as cited in
Note 9 above.
Quantity of raw silk exports from Bengal to England exceeded twelve lakh lbs in
1826, the highest-ever till then. Despite falling prices the Company’s total
export of raw silk from Bengal increased from 6,141 bales in 1826 to 7,014
bales in 1828. See Tripathi [192], 226 and 254. For Bengal raw silk exports of
the years 1813-26, also see Ghosal, The Economic Transition o f Bengal
Presidency...[151], 288.
In fact Scou suggested trial of modem reelers by the Muga producers as well.
'As regards the muga cocoon, no method of reeling it has yet been introduced
which will enable it to be sold at remunerative prices'. —An Account o f the
Province o f Assam and Its Administration (1901-02) [40], 31.
Bhattacharya, Cultural and social constraints...', IESHR, Vol. 3 [126], 242-6.
This paragraph is based on Scott to Swinton, 18 May 1831, as cited in Note 5
above, para 49.
Mathie to Jenkins, 15 Feb. 1835 [28] ; Hugon, 'Remarks on the silk worms...',
JASB, Vol. 6, January 1837 [96], 23 ; Barpujari, Assam in the Days o f the
Company...1124], 59 and 233-4.
This alternative strategy is contained in Jenkins to Secy., 22 July 1833, as cited
in Note, 8 above. All quotations and references to follow relate to this source,
unless indicated otherwise.
Revenue and Judicial letters from India and Bengal, 14 March 1837, cited by
Barpujari [124], 212.
Ibid, 213-4.
On the role of the Carr, Tagore and Co. and its founder, see Kling, Journal o f
Asian Studies, Vol. 26 [164], 37-48. For information on early tea cultivation,
Antrobus, A History cfthe Assam Company...[118].
8
Colonialization: The Second
Phase 1840-59
Until 1832 the East India Company’s Government was undecided about
its Assam policy, and this indecision led to further ruination of the
moribund local economy. With the Charter of 1833 which abolished
the Company's commercial interests, there opened up the prospects of
colonialization with import of private enterprise and capital from
Britain. From this year onwards, Englishmen were encouraged by the
administration to invest their capital in the wastelands of Assam to
produce cash crops like indigo, sugarcane and tea. The policy of
Francis Jenkins (in charge of the North-East Frontier during 1834-66)
of attracting British colonists to Assam for developing freehold farms
for growing indigo and sugarcane did not, however, materialize. But
British private capital did certainly respond to the beckoning prospects
of tea. The Assam Company was formed as a rupee Company in 1839
and began its operations immediately thereafter. During the next two
decades, as many as ninetyfive Europeans had been to Assam for short
or long stays as staff members of the Company. It had meanwhile been
transformed into a Sterling Company. The impact of tea in Assam
during this period is discussed below. Here, by Assam we mean Assam
proper, i.e. the whole of the Brahmaputra Valley to the exclusion of
the then District of Goalpara.
G r o w t h O f T ea I n d u s t r y A n d I t s L in k a g e E ffe c t s
All developments in Assam during the years 1840-59 centred round

tea and the Assam Company. The total acreage under tea plants, mature
and immature, increased from 2,311 acres in 1841 to about 8,000 acres
by 1859 ; and the output from 29,267 lbs. to more than 1.2 million
lbs. (Tables 8.1 and 8.2). Until 1850 the Assam Company was the
only tea company in the field ; by 1859 the number of estates under
distinct proprietors increased to 51.1 But the former still continued to
account for some 60 per cent of the acreage as well as of the output.
160 MEDIEVAL AND EARLY COI£>MAL ASSAM
The process of expansion of tea acreagc involved considerable

expenditure by the planters. It was about one-fourth to one-fifth of
what the Government spent in Assam and roughly averaged one-and-a
quarter lakh of rupees or so per year during the years 1841-53.
Thereafter it slowly rose to nearly Rs. 4 lakhs in Assam proper by
1859. In 1857 planters' expenditure in the district of Lakhimpur alone
was estimated by the Collector at Rs. 50,000 to 60,000 per annum, on
the basis of a tea crop of 130,000 lbs.2 In the early years the Company
used to bring boatloads of coins from Calcutta, as treasury and banking
facilities had not yet developed. Thus the planters’ activities lubricated
the mechanism of transition from a predominantly natural economy to
a cash economy during this period.3
There were also a number of other effects. The Assam Company’s
main problem was that of maintaining contacts with Calcutta over a
distance of some 800 miles. During the first 18 months or so of its
existence, the Company had to spend on water carriage by boats alone
a sum of about Rs. 20,000. A steamer purchased at the cost o f
£13,000 and unsuccessfully tried on the Brahmaputra in 1842, had to
be laid off for several years until its disposal in 1847. In its early years
the Company therefore continued to depend on its own fleet of country
boats. From 1847 onwards the Government agreed to operate a rather
irregular steamer service between Calcutta and Guwahati, a distance of
some 600 miles. It was extended up to Dibrugarh after 1856. The
Government's expenditures on the service were however fully covered
by the earnings mainly because of the increasing traffic of the tea
industry.
As early as 1845, the Assam Company claimed, with some
exaggeration no doubt, that it had opened or repaired some 800 miles
of public roads, had erected two hundred and sixty-six bridges and
established several ferries across the rivers.4 By 1859 the Government
came forward to take up road construction work here and there,
although the Public Works Department was yet to be born. The
industry marie use of wheeled carts drawn by bullocks and sometimes
by elephants to carry loads over short distances. Such carts were an
innovation in Assam. Gradually the remote gardens bccame connected
with local markets through a number of newly established weekly
marts and visiting pedlars. A class of Marwari traders, some of whom
had come to Assam already before the discovery of tea, gradually
became an agency of cashing planters' hundis on Calcutta and of certain
types of supplies to the gardens. Thus the growth of tea acreage,
transport and commerce was an interrelated process. Several European
investors tried, though on a small scale, to develop other resources as
COLONIALIZATION : THE SECOND PHASE 161
well, as exemplified in the early forties by Mr. Becher's shcllac factory,

Dr. Scott's 600-acre farm with patches of sugarcane, coffee and tea
cultivation, both at Guwahati, and a sugar factory. In the early fifties
export of rubber was gaining ground. A European-owned rubber press
was set up at Tezpur to process the juice collected from wild rubber
trees (ficus elastica). We first hear of coal-mining when a thousand
maunds were once raised in 1828. Again in 1841, we hear of a boatload
of locally raised coal being sent to the first visiting steamer on the
Brahmaputra. Steady demand for coal from the Govern, nont steamers
and the Assam Company's tea factory led to a more regular
exploitation of the coal mines from 1847 onwards. The Assam Coal
and Timber Company, an unsuccessful attempt in this field, sold away
its properties to the Assam Company in 1850.5 Coal exports from
Sibsagar in 1852 amounted to 2500 maunds (Table 8.3).
Impressive though it was in appearance, this growth did not lead to
an equivalent generation of incomes and diffusion of gains amongst the
indigenous population. In 1839, the local cost of production of tea was
experimentally calculated at a little over five annas per pound. Due to
top-heavy administration, later the unit cost mounted up and was
around 10 annas per lb. in 1844. By 1853 it again came down close to
5 annas and remained thereabout in subsequent years. It appears from
columns (6) and (7) of Table 8.1 that the Company's expenditures in
Assam towards the production costs constituted only one-third of its
gross earnings in those years for which estimates are available. The
proportion might have been less, because the published London prices
were customarily expressed, in most cases, as net of Calcutta-London
freight and sales and insurance charges. On the other hand, the Assam
expenditure was inclusive of transportation cost from Assam to
Calcutta. Even this one-third or so of the industry’s gross earnings
which were spent on Assam account, did not wholly accrue to the
indigenous people. There were substantial leakages through (i) the fat
salary-bill, (ii) recruitment and transportation costs incurred outside
Assam and (iii) purchases of materials from Calcutta, gains of which
accrued mostly to non-residents. This statement requires a little
elaboration.
Let us, for example, take the year 1844. The Company's production
cost (f.o.b. Calcutta) in Assam amounted to Rs. 127,000. The list of
some 25 European officers along with their scales of pay in the
History o f the Assam Company (pp. 75, 422 and 425) suggests that
the salary-bill was not less than Rs. 30,000, or about, a quarter of this
production cost. Presumably, most of this huge amount was saved or
spent outside, as spending avenues in Assam jungles were extremely
limited. The Chinese staff—70-member strong at one stage—also

must have drawn Rs. 20,000 to Rs. 25,000 or so annually until their
services were dispensed with in 1843. It may be noted that the Chinese
were paid at 4 to 5 times the wage rate paid to the corresponding
categories of Assamese labour.7 Another considerable leakage took
place through wasteful and unsuccessful recruitment drives. For
example, one Mr. Stewart's recruiting expedition outside Assam cost
the Company Rs. 10,727 in 1840-41 with no coolies added to the
Company's labour-force. In 1840, the recruitment of a big batch of
Chinese workmen abroad and their transportation up to Calcutta cost
the Company Rs. 22,000, but most of these workmen were not
ultimately available. Examples cited here throw some light on the
pattern of the Company’s spending on Assam account. We may,
therefore, assume that quite a substantial part of this spending did not
enter into the local income-flow.
What then was the share of the local people in the stream of
incomes created by the tea industry ? Obviously, (i) the wages earned
by indigenous labour and (ii) whatever part of wages and salaries of the
non-indigenous staff were spent on locally-produced goods. But in the
early years, the Company had to import the entire supplies of rice to
its labour from Bengal districts. Later, rice purchases were made also in
Darrang and Nowgong districts, but occasional imports from outside
did not stop. Similarly, other goods such as mustard oil, sugar, cutlery
etc. also were imported from outside into the districts (Table 8.4).
Any spending other than on payment of wages by the planters more
often than not, benefited the outsiders. The transportation charges paid
by the Company to the Bengal-based Government Marine Department
caused a spill-over process outside Assam. The growing demand for
lead lines, brushes and paints, bill-hooks, iron pans, hoes and such
other things as required by the plantations was met with imports from
Calcutta and London. The moribund indigenous iron industry—some
forty iron-smelting units and a few smithies still staggering on7—was
not given a trial for the supply of the new iron goods in demand.
Packing boxes were generally brought from Calcutta and Chittagong,
and even from the U.K. till 1847. For example, 1,500 such boxes were
imported in 1843 from U.K. Later, locally-made packing boxes came
into use. But the practice was again interrupted by the emergence of
imported plywood boxes in a subsequent period.
About the limitations of the spill-over process, nothing can be
more revealing than the following comment of the official historian of
the Assam Company, though made with reference to a more recent
period:
COLONIAUZATION : THE SECOND PHASE 163
It was the Company*s normal policy to purchase the bulk of the gardens*
requirement of stores in the United Kingdom and ship them to India. This
heading of stores covered not only cultivation tools,-factory maintenance
materials such as belting, paint, oil, grease etc. but tea chests, steel works for
buildings, machinery spares and replacements, and tea-making machinery itself
(p. 240).
It is difficult to estimate how much was earned by the local people
in the form of wages. This is because we have no reliable employment
figures for the period. Nor do we know \yhat proportion of the labour
force was composed of indigenous labour. It is, however, definite that
the tea gardens suffered from chronic shortage of labour because of
difficult and expensive recruitment from inside or outside the province
and the reluctance of local people to work on low wages. The ideal
proportion of 1.5 workmen per planted acre was never reached before
the sixties ; in fact, the number was far short of this figure in the early
years. So the labour force may be crudely estimated at one labourer per
planted acre in any year. In 1859 then, the number of labourers was
some 8,000 or so. It appears that only a small part of this labour force
was recruited outside the province. The most important source of
recruitment was the Kachari (a tribe) population of Darrang district.
Besides, peasants from adjacent villages were also employed in their
off-seasons through contractors. The wage rate varied between three and
three and a half rupees per month in the forties, and, later rose to four
rupees by 1857. But, even these apparently high wage rates did not
appear to be sufficiently attractive. In 1859, there was a strike amongst
the Kachari labour of the Assam Company for a wage increase. Earlier
in 1848, the same labour had to go on a strike to realize arrear wages.
In their letter to the Court of Directors dated 14 January 1845,
already referred to above, the Assam Company claimed to have 6,550
workers on its rolls. This appears to be a gross exaggeration. In 1844,
as we have seen, the Company’s spending in Assam was Rs. 1,27,000
only, of which a sum of Rs. 30,000 or so was spent towards the
salary-bills on the European officers. Even assuming that the
remaining amount was entirely available for paying wages (which was
not the case) at the rate of three and a half rupees per month and that
wages were fully earned, we get a labour force of 2,310 only for the
year 1844. The Company’s figures, therefore, only suggest a rapid
change of personnel on the rolls, who together received full time wages
of not more than 2,310 workmen. By 1859, this number rose to 8,000
or so. But, in practice, the work of 8,000 must have been done by
many more persons who accepted short-term employment from time to
time. Because of the low man-land ratio, the pcr-acre physical
productivity, despite an increase since 1853, remained low as per later

standards.
The wastelands settlements policy tempted liic planners to take
possession of more lands than what they could manage. This inhibited
intensive cultivation on the one hand and gave rise to unhealthy
speculation on the other. Of about 55,000 acres taken up by 1859,
only some 14 per cent was planted, and that too with a thin spread of
the scant labour force thereupon. ‘I think I shall not exaggerate when I
say’, commented Jenkins, ‘that we have now fully one-third more land
than can be properly farmed.’8
I m pa c t o n A g r ic u l t u r e
It is difficult to assess the impact of the tea industry as such as

distinct from that of improved administration on the agriculture of the
period. In terms of acreage tea was still marginal till the 'fifties—not
even half per cent of the total cultivated acreage, as shown in Table
8.5. It was still limited to Sibsagar and Lakhimpur although
plantations had lately started in the other districts as well (Table 8.2).
Already by 1852, tea accounted for more than half of the total export
earnings (Table 8.3) of Sibsagar, although hardly 1 6 per cent of the
district’s cultivated acreage was under tea.
The cultivation and processing of tea until the sixties was purely
manual, with little use of mechanical appliances. Yet it was basically
different from traditional agriculture because of its capitalistic
organization and scientific outlook. The crop was new ; the skills
involved were new ; even the scale of productionwasunprccedented in
the region. But the tea gardens were like so many isolated islands of
alien ways of life in the midst of a traditional society.
Tea had direct impact on the peasant economy in two ways : as a
source of seasonal and casual employment for the needy peasants and as
a source of market demand for rice and other locally-produced wage-
goods. Both the impacts were extremely limited. An initially small
labour force rising slowly to an estimated 8,000 by 1859 could at best
generate an annual consumer demand for not more than one to two
lakhs of maunds of rice. This could be easily met from even the
existing rice acreage provided diffused procurement was possible
without involving heavy transportation costs. This not being the case,
the procurement of rice by the planters created certain problems.
Almost the entire labour force was engaged in the two districts of
Sibsagar and Lakhimpur. But the bulk of the demand of labour for rice
had always to be met from outside these districts. Total acreage under
rice does not appear to have had appreciatively increased, either in these
COLONIALIZAHON : THE SECOND PHASE 165
districts or elsewhere in Assam in response to this demand. It was so

because of the general shortage of manpower. The population, under
conditions of political security, increased from about seven to eight
lacs in the ‘thirties to slightly more than one million in 1853. The
over-all growth of cultivated acreage probably failed to keep pace with
this increasing population, as it appears from Table 8.5. Between
1849-50 and 1852-53, the total cultivated acreage apparently increased
by 1,777 acres only, i.e., by less than 0.2 per cent. Part of this
increase again was accounted for by tea.
Epidemics took an unusually heavy toll of lives both amongst
human and cattle populations in the years 1853 and 1854.9 So any
increase in the rice acreage of Assam for several years immediately after
1853 was most unlikely. Figures of revenue demand on Assam,
available annualy till 1856-57, show a steady fall. This fact was rather
suggestive of a fall in cultivated acreage.10
Year 1852-3 1853-4 1854-5 1855-6 1856-7

(Rs. (Rs.) (Rs.) (Rs.) (Rs.)
Revenue
Demand 1154,552 1115,508 1049,251 1035,712 1015,746
Cultivation was on the decline in the districts of Darrang and

Nowgong, while it was almost stationary in the other districts.
The impact of employment opportunities was felt not so much in
the two tea districts of Sibsagar and Lakhimpur as in Darrang. The
latter was not producing any tea till 1859. It is from there that a large
number of Kachari peasants were recruited every year for work in
gardens situated at a distance of some fourteen days’ journey from their
homes. They entered service with the intention of earing sufficient cash
to pay off their land revenue dues or the customary bride price in most
cases. With money so earned, they often settled down even as
independent farmers in the tea districts, instead of returning to their
villages. Thus, the tea industry induccd a slight redistribution of
population between districts.
As mentioned earlier, the Assam Company used to purchase
quantities of rice from Darrang. This should have been an incentive for
expansion of cultivated acreage there. Yet Table 8.5 shows a decrease
of about 10,000 acres, i.e. of more than four per cent, in the cultivated
acreage there between the years 1849-50 and 1852-53. The annual
drainage of manpower to the tea districts must have been one of the
contributory causes of this fall. The only other district recording a fall
in cultivated acreage during the same period was Nowgong. There, too,
the decrease was to the extent of about four per cent, but probably due
to some other reasons. In 1858, Nowgong experienced a serious
famine, when the price of rice shot up to as high as Rs. 10 per maund,
as an extreme case. The normal price of paddy in Sibsagar was eight
annas per maund in 1859,11 as against the prevailing price of four to
six annas in the 'thirties. It was but natural that, with stagnation in
agriculture, the price of wage-goods like rice would move up during the
years 1840-59. However, there was no steady trend in the absence of an
organized market. Even as early as 1840 rice was landed in Sibsagar
plantations at a cost of nearly Rs. 2 per maund, while it would not sell
there at that time even at eight annas per maund according to Bruce.12
In 1852 rice exported from Lakhimpur recorded an average price of Rs.
0.79 per maund, while fine rice imported into adjoining Sibsagar,
recorded an average price of Rs. 1.75 per maund (see Tables-8.3 and
8.4). Thus, it is impossible to establish, with our scant heterogeneous
data any definite trend in the price of rice over the period.
The increasing importance of poppy as a cash crop during the
period is particularly notable. Advances were regularly distributed by
the traders amongst the cultivators for ensuring deliveries. The average
after-harvest price of indigenous opium in the 'forties was five rupees
per seer ; when cornered in times of scarcity, the retial price might go
up to even eighty rupees in the lean months. Opium accounted for
more than a fifth of the total value of exports from Lakhimpur district
in 1852 (Table 8.3). Its value was calculated at an average price of Rs.
5.46 per seer. In the same year, Nowgong—the leading poppy-
producing district—had more than 3,000 acres, i.e. about two per cent
of its total cultivated acreage under poppy.13 With the introduction of
sales of cheaper abkari opium by the Government since 1851-52, the
rising price trend was probably checked, but not the cultivation of
poppy. In fact, the growing monetization of the economy induced
farmers to grow more opium for cash even at the cost of other crops,
instead of inducing them to accept employment in the tea industry.
This might have been one of the causes of the shrinkage of overall
cultivated acreage in Darrang and Nowgong, for poppy was more
labour-intensive and profitable as compared to ordinary crops.
Increasing consumption of opium resulted in the ruin of the Assamese
society by the end of the 'fifties, as was evident from a number of
representations made to the Government at that time.
It is reasonable to assume that, with various internal customs tolls
abolished and better communications established, exports from and
imports into Assam proper in terms of both quantity and value went
COLONIAUZATTON : THE SECOND PHASE 167
on increasing. The partial data compiled in our Table 8.6 also suggest
this.
Assuming that the export statistics available for the thirties were at
least near-exhaustive—all major items were neatly recorded by
Pemberton—the total value of exports undoubtedly increased
considerably by 1852 (see Table 8.6). Both quantity and value of muga
and cotton exports increased. Most probably this was so also in the
case of mustard-seed exports from Assam proper though we do not
have sufficient data to say so (the estimated export of mustard-seeds
from Goalpara district—outside Assam proper—was four lac maunds in
1852). The comparative cheapness of salt which still continued to be
the major single item of import indicated that the terms of trade in
general had moved in favour of Assam after the thirties. The price of
mustard-seeds was calculated at Rs. 2.06 in Goalpara for 1852, as
against a price ranging from Rs. 0.75 to Rs. 1.37 during the years
1832-35. Also some forest products, wax for example, recorded a price
rise. But the prices of muga thread, lac and cotton actually came down.
The cotton price in the district of Lakhimpur for example came down
from four rupees around 1840 to three rupees in 1852. Yet cotton
featured largely in the exports of Lakhimpur and Sibsagar districts in
that year. It also appears that local handlooms had not yet switched
over to imported yam, nor were clothing habits yet millcloth-oriented.
However, millmade cloth—but not yam—had already appeared in the
market. The Government spent a meagre sum of about Rs. 10,000 in
1850 on an experimental cotton farm for the purpose of diffusing
improved cotton culture. But, as there were no quick results, it was
soon abandoned.14 From 1853 onwards, raw cotton exports from
Bengal ports to the U.K. recorded a sharp decline. So it was but natural
that cotton consignments from Assam to Bengal should have also faced
a depression during the years 1853-59.15
The Wastelands Rules of 6 March 1838 did not go far in attracting
European capitalists. They were therefore revised on 23 September
1854, providing for ninetynine years’ lease on more liberal terms. But
at the same time the minimum area for which one could apply was
raised to five hundred acres. Later, however, the limit was reduced to
two hundred acres and made relaxable to even one hundred acres in
special cases, if native applicants could satisfy the Collectors of their
ability to bring ryots from outside Assam. The new Rules stimulated a
landrush not only in Assam proper but also in the adjoining districts of
Cachar and Sylhet. But pressure for further liberalization of the Rules
in creating free-hold and perpetual grants continued.
Jenkins had been harping on his pel theory of colonization of

Assam by European capitalists for the cultivation of sugarcane, indigo,
tea and other great staples ever since 1833. But the overall response
from European capitalists was altogether poor. Expensive
communications with the port of Calcutta and the acute scarcity of
labour were inter alia the main inhibiting factors. Consequently, the
proposition that ‘every acre brought under tea would force four more of
waste into cultivation to meet the growers and lea makers’ remained
yet unfulfilled even twenty years after the coming of tea.16 On the
contrary, by 1859 for every acre planted with tea the planter kept in
fallow six acres of wastelands in his possession for other purposes
including speculation (See Table 8.2).
Let us now come to the question of ‘drain’. So far as the drain of
revenue surplus to the Presidency is concerned, it was a transitional
phase, yet it continued at least up to 1852-53. With the gearing up of
the normal administration the provincial finance later tended to have an
excess of expenditure over revenue. Besides, as has already been pointed
out, the planters pumped into circulation an ever-increasing amount of
cash. The position regarding circulating media was therefore better by
1859 than in the thirties.
Since the abolition of the Customs post in 1835 complete
statistics of Assam’s trade were no more available. It is, therefore,
impossible to discuss the balance of trade position between Assam and
the rest of India. Both exports and imports went on increasing, but the
> latter appear to have had an edge over the former. Increasing export
earnings from tea, perhaps, progressively narrowed down this trade gap
during the 'fifties, but failed to wipe it out completely even by 1859.
We conclude so from whatever information is available for the two tea
districts for 1852. As per Table 8.3 and 8.4, Lakhimpur which had not
yet come to tea-producing stage appears to have had a trade deficit,
while Sibsagar showed a big surplus of exports over imports. But a
checking with information compiled in Table 8.1 reveals that the tea
exports of Sibsagar in Table 8.3 were overvalued and, therefore, the
data require correction. Calculated even at the London price (Is. 11^ d.
or 98 paise per lb.) the total value would have been near about Rs.
268,000. Therefore, the on-the-spot value of tea (landed in Calcutta)
could have been at best half of this, if not one-third. In that case, it
should have been estimated at Rs. 134,000 at the most. It is to this
maximal extent that the indigenous people of Assam could derive any
direct or indirect benefits from tea sales in that year. If we accept this
revised figure of the value of the exports and take out the item of
bullion and old coins worth Rs. 10,000 from the export side, then the
COLONIALIZAnON : THE SECOND PHASE 169
trade surplus is reduced to a slender one. On the other hand, the relevant
data for Lakhimpur do not include one import item—abkari opium
(Rs. 15,420). If this item is included and gold dust worth Rs. 8,000
excluded from export side, the trade deficit of Lakhimpur further
widens. We may assume that, in the absence of tea exports the
remaining districts also had a trade deficit, though not to the same
extent as Lakhimpur. By 1859 the overall trade position of Assam
proper was then probably one of deficit, rather than of surplus.
Table 8.4 also shows the limited impact of tea on the consumption
pattern of the peasant economy. Total earnings from exported farm and
forest produce did not suffice for the import of even the two items of
almost universal consumption—salt and abkari opium. Therefore it
was the cash generated on public and plantation accounts which went
to meet the remaining part of the import bill. This part of the bill was
largely oriented to the consumption of a new class of traders, officers,
clerks and, to a small extent, labour of non-indigenous origin. Sugar,
wheat, ghee, printed calico, fine rice, wax candies, cutlery, soap etc.
were consumed more by this class of people than by others. They
constituted the new alien sector, island-like within the. traditional
economy. The rising demand therefrom for all sorts of consumption
goods had therefore little impact on the traditional production pattern.
For example, the demand for mustard oil in the tea districts was met
from imports, while mustard-seed continued to be exported. Unlike
Goalpara, the tea districts failed to have jute cultivation on the riverine
tracts ; jute and jute goods were imported there from outside. Because
of this situation, the traditional sector continued to suffer from
stringency of cash. Peasants sometimes travelled two to three days’
march to convert their goods into cash through a series of exchanges in
order to pay off their land revenue dues.17 Usury and usurious trade
increased the miseries of the peasantry.
What was the way out of this stagnation ? Rapid agricultural
growth under a system of incentives to European capitalists was the
colonialists’ answer. But how was it to come about in the face of acute
labour shortage ? by 1859, the planters came out with a three-point
prescription of their own : (i) introduce a regular steamer service—
Government-owned or subsidized—to facilitate the recruitment of
labour from outside, (ii) suppress poppy cultivation as well as the sale
of opium ; and (iii) enhance the assessment of land revenue to compel
villagers to work in the tea industry for wages.18 All these suggestions
except that of stopping the sale of Government opium were accepted
by the administration in due course. ‘Why should they (i.e. the
peasants) thus be compelled to suffer’, questioned Jenkins, ‘merely to
provide labour for speculators in a very profitable commerical

undertaking...?’ And yet it was he who in 1859 recommended the
enchancement of revenue rates on the non-rupit lands (other than wet
lands) in four districts. These rates were increased by fifteen to thirty
per cent to bring them at par with the prevailing rates in Kamrup
district. The planters continued to pay no rent at all for the major part
of their holdings and only a lower rent (3 to 9 annas as against 12
annas to Re. 1-8 annas per acre paid by the peasants) for the remaining
part Poppy cultivation was prohibited from 1 May 1860. But the sale
of abkari opium which had almost doubled between the years 1851-52
and 1858-59 was allowed to continue on revenue grounds even
thereafter.19
I n f l o w o f B r it is h C a p it a l : N a t u r e a n d M a g n it u d e
The paid-up capital of the Assam Company stood at two million

rupees (£ two lakhs) in 1845, the year of its formal incorporation by
an Act of Parliament The entire amount had been spent by that year,
and the Company became indebted to individuals and banks to the
extent of some £ 14.000.20 But in subsequent years, not only was the
Company able to pay off its loans and to finance further extension of
acreage from its own earnings but it was also able to return in the form
of dividends an amount equal to 80 per cent of its paid-up capital over
the period of two decades till 1859. Besides, it facilitated the formation
of capital by its European employees on service, out of their regular
and irregular incomes in India.
During the fifties the Company’s fixed assets increased rapidly. In
1858 and 1859—both normal years—the value of each paid-up share of
£ 20 approximated around £ 30 (Rs. 300). We may therefore estimate
the value of the Company’s capital in 1859 at Rs. three million. This
gives us an investment of nearly Rs. 647 per planted acre. This of
course, included all assets of the company related to and necessary for
all its tea operations. The other Companies and private proprietors,
together accounting for only some forty per cent of the total planted
acreage and output, would naturally require a lesser amount of
investment per acre because of their advantages in starting late. So Rs.
six hundred may be taken as the average value of investments per acre
for 1859. Multiplying this figure by the acreage (8,000 acres) we get
Rs. 4.8 million as the total value of capital invested in Assam
plantations till that year. Another Rs. 0.2 million may be arbitrarily
taken as the value of private British capital engaged in other fields. Rs.
5 million, then, was the total amount of British capital in Assam.21
The magnitude may be better expressed as approximately Rs. 4 per

head of population at that time.
However, it should be borne in mind that not even half of this Rs.
5 million was received from out of the savings made in the U.K. Of
the Assam Company’s paid-up capital of Rs. 2 million, an amount of
Rs. 1.6 million only was subscribed in the U.K. ; the rest was
subscribed in Calcutta by local British and Indian share-holders. Even
of the small loans raised, only half was raised in London and the rest in
C alcutta.22 The actual inflow of British capital into the Assam
Company remained limited to what had already come before 1845. The
proprietory gardens and other British assets, not belonging to the
Assam Company, did not represent any net import of capital from
U.K. For example, take the case of the Jorhat Tea Company founded in
1859. Its initial paid-up capital of Rs. 0.6 million represented not so
much any actual inflow of capital as the capitalization of the existing
private gardens built up by its major shareholders out of their fortunes
made in Assam.23 We, therefore, conclude that not more than half of
the estimated British capital assets in 1859 was of the nature of capital
inflow. The other half represents formation of capital through a process
of ploughing back and mobilization of locally available savings.
Three Deputy Commissioners, four assistant commissioners and
several police officers threw up their appointments to engage in tea
planting.’ Civil surgeons and military officers also did not lag behind.24
We may assume that most of their investments came from their own
and their friends' savings in India. Founders of many new tea
companies like the Jorhat Tea Company got their initial capital by
abusing tea seedlings and labour of the Assam Company while still on
its pay-roll as employees. It is therefore pertinent to assume that much
of the investments in plantations were of the nature of "primitive
accumulation". Henry Burkinyoung who held around 1859 one-eighth
stock of the Assam Company and one-fifth that of Jorhat Tea
Company built up his fortunes in Calcutta as a resident director during
the years 1841-63.
Until the 'sixties the tea industry was hardly a carrier of the fruits of
the industrial revolution. Planters required capital for a wide-spread
organization, for hiring labour to clear and improve the jungle lands
and for an inventory of simple tools and materials. In the early years
the bare cost of clearing an acre of jungles was Rs. 67 only.25 Added to
it was three years' labour cost for planting and bringing it to the stage
of tea-yielding. This was a substantial part of the investment.
Construction of houses for all purposes involved, in practice, only the
labour cost since bamboo and timber were available free or at nominal
cost.
The first pieces of machinery in Assam were a saw-mill costing
£1009 and a steamer costing £13,000 imported in 1841 and 1842,
respectively. But both had to be laid off immediately after unsuccessful
trials and were sold away by 1847. The same old saw-mill was,
however, re-purchased in 1850 from the Assam Coal and Timber
Company on its liquidation, and was in use during the 'fifdes. The first
fire-proof building with cast-iron columns and corrugated iron-roof for
factory premises, was built in 1856. However, the most impressive
mechanical appliances until the 'sixties did not belong to the tea
industry. They were the three Government-owned steamers which plied
up and down the Brahmaputra since 1847 and the first printing press
brought in 1836, but put into operation in the 'forties by the American
Baptist Mission. It became not only a forum of evangelism but also
that of dissemination of scientific knowledge and western outlook.
The years 1840-59 saw the gradual evolution of the new technology
of tea culture. Scientific principles of agriculture were systematically
experimented with and applied. Seedlings were carefully raised.
Innovations in pruning and plucking were introduced in the 'fifties.
Many of the manufacturing processes were already organized in such
manner as to make their mechanization easy in the subsequent period.
But the progressive agriculture of the plantation sector had hardly any
demonstration effect on the surrounding traditional economy.
One important conclusion may now be drawn. It is that British
private enterprise in Assam was not the outcome of a laissez faire
policy. The heavy cost of early experimentation in Assam tea was
entirely borne by the Government. The expertise thus acquired and the
experimental gardens were both handed over as free gifts to the Assam
Company. Secondly, the revenue concessions granted to the planters
must have amounted to several lakhs of rupees over the whole period
till 1859 alone.26 Free wastelands grants on long lease provided them
with much more than mere sites. They contained all necessary housing
materials including in many cases even valuable timber. Being
transferable under the 1854 Rules, such lands—even those undergoing
no improvements—could be sold at profit in a later period. And above
all, a part of the land could occasionally be used as a bait to allure land-
hungry peasants as labour to the plantations at otherwise unattractive
wages. Lastly, there were other forms of concession such as free
supply of seeds and the carriage of labour recruits at concessional rates
by Government steamers. Thus the Government’s role in building up
the plantation industry was substantial.
The role played by a handful of Indian gentlemen in pioneering the
tea industry is also worth noting. Recent research has established
beyond doubt that it was the partnership firm of Dwarkanath Tagore,
the Carr, Tagore and Co. (1834-48), which took the first steps in
COLOMAUZATION : THE SECOND PHASE 173
promoting the Assam Company. But "because they could not

command the large amount of capital necessary to establish the tea
industry in India", this enterprise came almost immediately under the
control of London.27 Although one-fifth of the share-capital of the
Assam Company was subscribed in Calcutta as against four-fifths in
London, Indian participation as such was very small indeed. Nine of
the Indian share-holders between them held 275 shares, i.e. about 3 per
cent of the share-capital in the early years.28
Amongst the promoters of the Assam Company were five
prominent business leaders of Calcutta—Dwarkanath Tagore, Prasanna
Kumar Tagore, Rustomjee Cowasjii, Motilal Seal and Haji Ispahani.
Of them, Seal and Prasanna Kumar Tagore served in 1839 and 1839-
41, respectively, as directors on the Calcutta Board of the Company.
Another notable Indian, little known elsewhere but still remembered in
Assam as a martyr of the national rebellion of 1857, was closely
associated with tea from its very inception. As the chief informant of
the British officers, and probably of the Tea Committee on local
matters and as the Dewan of the Assam Company since 1839,
Maniram Datta played a crucial role. He was drawing as Dewan a
higher salary—Rs. 200 per month—than a majority of the Company’s
European staff. The Chairman of the Assam Company credited him in
the Company’s Annual report of 1841-42, with the opening of new
gardens and raising profits of the Company. In the course of his long
career, Maniram Datta had raised coal as a contractor, supplied rations
to the army and, in the forties established two small proprietory tea
gardens of his own. In 1853, he submitted a Memorandum to the
Government criticising the modus operandi of British rule in Assam.
Suspected of anti-British conspiracy and charged with treason, he was
hanged to death in 1858, and his tea gardens were confiscated.29 To
complete our account of the Indian role in the promotion of tea, we
may note that the 12-member Committee founded by Lord Bentinck in
1834 included two eminent Indians of the age—Radhakanta Dev and
Ram Kamal Sen. Besides, the early planters learnt much of the tea
culture from the local Singphos.
C o n c l u s io n
While concluding, a question naturally comes up. Was there any

other and better alternative within the colonial framework for breaking
through the stagnation in Assam ? It is difficult to answer. Of several
alternative crops which could be grown on wastelands, tea and
sugarcane were undoubtedly the most productive. We estimate below
the gross yields of alternative crops from an acre of land capable of
several uses around 1852.30
Approximate Approximate
physical Approximate value
Crop product Price product
peracre per unit peracre
Rice (cleaned) 12 Mds. Re 1.00 Rs. 12.00
Cotton (with seeds) 6 M Rs. 3.50 Rs. 21.00
~1
Opium seers Rs. 5.00 Rs. 37.50
Muga Silk 12 w Rs. 4.50 Rs. 54.00
Sugarcane 24 Mds. of Rs. 8.00 Rs. 192.00
gur
Tea 180 Lbs. Re. 1.00 Rs. 180.00
(London Price)
Under conditions of land-abundance and labour-scarcity the per-acre
productivity should not, however, be treated as the guiding line.
Valuation of the tea crop at London price is also least meaningful. We
have seen that generally only some one-third of the final value of tea
crop accrued to the local economy. Therefore, its on-the-spot value
inclusive of freight up to Calcutta may be taken at sixty rupees per
acre. Moreover, in assessing the respective advantages of alternative
crops, a better method in the case of labour-short and land-abundant
Assam will be to take into consideration not the land use, but the man
power use.
A family unit of man, wife and their two working children could
have managed only three acres of tea in 1852, on the ba¿is of the then
prevailing man-land ratio. Thus, they would have produced a crop
worth Rs. 180 (Rs. 60 * 3) on the spot, out of which they would have
earned Rs. 126 (Rs. 42 x 3) as their wages. On the other hand, the same
family unit could have alternatively managed some five acres (one
plough) of ordinary agriculture. Thus, they could normally earn nearly
Rs. 72 by producing 79 mds. of paddy and a second crop of 16 mds. of
mustard seed.31 Their gross earnings could go up to as high as Rs. 100,
if half an acre of the holding were put under muga silk, or even to Rs.
160 if put under sugarcane. Undoubtedly, tea was the most productive
crop. It was so particularly if its long-run potentialities were also taken
into consideration. No other crop could have created an equal or
comparable demand for betterment of communications and transport in
Assam. Moreover, the physical productivity of tea per acre was
continuously rising over the years.
But if the accent on tea was justified, the Government’s policy in
boosting it at the cost of ordinary agriculture was overdone. The tax
burden on ordinary agricultural lands was intensified, while planters
were allowed to cultivate and hpld as much tax-free land as they wanted
to. This policy led to stagnation in the rice acreage. As a result, prices
of rice and other wage-goods went on increasing. The existing wage
rates therefore bccamc less and less attractive, and local labour could
not be increasingly drawn towards the plantations. This situation could
be, to some extent, avoided if food production were encourged along
with tea. Such a policy could have been adopted, at least from the
’fifties, by equalizing the tax burden between tea and rice lands. After
the tea industry had begun to make profits, there was no longer any
justification in making the peasants pay at four to five times the
average rate at which a planter was taxed for his holding. Special
revenue concessions and other governmental help should have been
extended to muga silk and sugarcane producers. Such measures would
have checked, on the one hand the planters’ unhealthy land rush noted
by Jenkins in 1858 and would have provided for a more balanced
growth, on the other. Proportionate increases in rice and sugarcane
acreage and output would have served the long-run interests of the tea
industry better through an increased flow of basic wage-goods.
The policy of raising ordinary land revenue rates to force the
peasants out of their farms to seek jobs in plantations proved a failure.
On the contrary, it led to agricultural stagnation and made the
plantations dependent on expensive food imports. Potential growth of
both rice and tea acreage, however, was limited by the rate of growth of
population. The population increased from an estimated 0.8 million in
1840 to slightly above one million in 1853 and about 1.5 million in
1872. So, during our period the population was increasing at a simple
rate of less than 2.5 per cent per annum. The density of population
remained far below 100 per sq. mile. A more rapid growth of
population could have been achieved (i) by assisting the emigration of
landless peasants from neighbouring provinces to the wastelands of
Assam under direct government supervision and (ii) by taking adequate
public health measures to enhance the natural growth of population.
The tea industry as well as the traditional economy would have
benefited much more from such a policy than they did from
discriminatory concessions in land revenue on a lavish scale. Under
such a policy, the reduction of indentured plantation labour to the
status of semi-slavery would have become unnecessary in the face of a
growing supply of free labour. Thus agrarian prosperity would have '
been compatible with the growth of tea.
In short such a long-run policy of balanced growth would have kept
within restraints the isolative economic dualism which took roots by
1859 and has plagued Assam to the present. Whether such an economic
policy could be expccted of the colonial regime is another matter.
TABLE 8.1
The Assam Company's Statistics, 1840-49 (a) Total paid-up capital (£ =200,000)
Year Totalacreage Manufactured Cropper Average* Estimated** Cost ofpro Total cost Dm - Profit Market price
under Tea Tea lbs. acre in price per Total value ductionper cfpro dmd per share
(both bearing bearing lb. Sh.d. ofcrop £ lb. duction % (£20 each)
and non-bear in Assam
ing) Acres
(1) (2) 0) (4) (5) m (7) (S) (9) (10)
1840 1.356 10.212 39 3-0 1,532 Rs. 129.840(c)

1841 2.311 29.267 28 2-0 2,927
1843 2.768 87.705* 3-1 13,521
1844 181.614 As. 10+ Rs. 127,000 3
1845 194.800 2-0 (app.Xb) 19,480 (approx) V 2s .6d. at
1846 136.267 London
1847 160.334 1-7-1/16 12,820
1848 210.655 1-8-3/4 18,213
1849 214.817 1-10 19,692
1850 251.633 1-6-1/8 19,047 2?
1851 253,354 i4 21,641 3
1852 271.427 m i* 26,577 5
Table contd. to next page.

Year Total acreage Manufactured Cropper Average* Estimated** Cost o f pro Total cost Divi Profit iV
underTea Tea Lbs. acre in priceper Total value ductionper cfpro dend
(both bearing bearing lbSh.d. o f crop £ lb. duction %
andnon-bear-
ing) Acres
(1) (2) ß) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9)
1853 2,921 366,867 180 1-11 35,158 As 5-8 Rs. 129,690 6 13,261 Rs
1854 3,313 478,258 1-11-3/8 46,580 pies (=8d.) 7 20,640 £ :
1855 3,493 583,094 1-10L 54,665 8 11,480
1856 3,838 644,199 268 1-11-2/3 63,507 9 25,077 Rs
1857 4,261 707,132 1-8-1/8 59,296 As. 4 to 10 13,008 £ :
As. 6 in
1858 4,466 766,998 1-11; 75,102 (approx) 12 29,790 £ :
in
1859 4,638 810,680 1-8 67,557 12 18311 £ :
£:
Lc
* Incomplete figure.
** Figures in Column (4) must be treated with caution. It is difficult to regard these prices as the
crop for it was customary to quote them as net êxcluding cost of lead linings, freight, insurance and sales charge:
The production cost of tea landed in Calcutta appears to have been less than 6 annas per lb. for most of the
till 1861. Figures in Column (5) are our estimates, arrived at by multiplying the year’s crop by the average price
t In 1845, the cost of production o f 90,000 lbs. of tea was calculated at 14 as. inclusive o f freight and insuri
“The early history of the tea industry”, Bengal Economic Journal, II (1918), [172] 44-59.
SOURCE : (a) Antrobus [48], Table in pp. 407-8 and additional information in pp. 56,59, 88,100 and 415.
(b) Average price of 1845 from A runody, I, February 1846 [209].
(c) ibid.
TABLE 8.2
Total area under tea in Assam Proper, 1859
District Acreage Taken Up Acreage Cleared for Tea
Kamrup 12,207 297

Darrang 3,783 375
Nowgong 11,034 negligible
*Sibsagar 13,796 5,227
Lakhimpur 14,038 1,700
Total of Assam proper 54,858 1,700
* Previous year’s figures.

SOURCE : Selections from the Records o f the Government o f Bengal
Vol. 37 [79], 33-5.
TABLE 8.3
Exports from select districts o f Assam to Bengal : 1852
Goalpara
Commodity Quantity Value Average price

(Mels.) (Rs.) per md. (Rs.)
Mustard-seed 400,000 824,000 2.06

Cotton 50,000 175,000 3.50
Lac (raw) 7,000 36,750 5.25
Jute 20,000 20,000 1.00
Ivory 100 18,750 187.50
Silk Cloth 4,000 (pieces) 16,000
Manjit 2,500 (Mds.) 9,375 3.75
Wax 300 82,500 27.50
Pepper (long) 400 4,200 10.50
Chapra Lac — 4,000
Muga Silk (raw) 600* 2,622 174.80
Scsamum-seed 2,000 2,500 1.25
Rhino horns 7 1,680 2.40
Total* 1197,327
Table Contd. to next page.

COLONIALIZATEON : THE SECOND PHASE 179
Commodity Quantity Value Average price

(Mds.) (Rs.) per md. (Rs.)
Lakhim pur
Muga Silk (raw) 385 51,850 134.68
Indigenous Opium 135 29,500 218.68
Manjit 500 8,000 16.00
Gold (dust) 7 (seers) 8,000 ----------
Silk (Endi) 3,000 (pieces) 6,000 —
Mustard seed 7,000 (Mds.) 6,000 0.86

Ivory 25 ft
3,750 150.00
Rice 4,250 M
3,378 0.79
Wax 100 •«
2,500 25.00
Pulses (Kalai) 2,000 •9
2,475 1.47
Rhino horns 4.5 ••
2,000 444.44
Cotton 600 •1
1,800 3.00
Gur (Molasses) 1,135 •1
1,080 8.00
Silk Cloth 1,050 M
1,050 —
Total+ 127,383
Sibsagar
Tea 3,337*: 200,250** 60.00
Muga silk (raw) 315 50,400 160.00
Cotton 12,609 36,500 2.89
Mustard seed 17,000 17,000 1.00
Silver (Old coin) 7,000 (tolas) 6,125
Gold (dust) 250 ••
3,125 •
Ivory 17 (Mds.) 2,550 150.00

Silver 1,500 (tolas) 750
Coal 2,500 (Mds.) 625 0.25
Rhino-horns 1?
if
600 400.00
Other horns 1,160 M
360 0.31
Wax 12 ••
740 20.00
Total4" 318,525
* Seers were obviously misprinted as Mds. We have corrected the
mistake.
** The figure represents an overestimated value. The actual value on
the spot would have been anything around Rs. 134,000, as
explained in the text
+ The list and respective totals may not be exhaustive, since they
represent estimates made by traders. Besides, the Goalpara figures
for raw muga silk and wax involve gross printing errors.
SOURCE : A.J.M. Mills, Report on the Province o f Assam [66], Sibsagar,
Appendix B ; Lakhimpur, para 33 and Goalpara paras 10-11.
TABLE 8.4
Imports into selected districts of Assam from Bengal: 1852
GOALPARA LAKHIMPUR SIBSAGAR
Average Average
Commodities Quantity in Value (Rs.) Priceper Quantity in Value (Rs.) Quantity in Value (Rs.) priceper
Mds. Md Mds. Mds. hid.
(Rs.) (Rs.)
1. Salt 100,000 370,000 3 70 7,910 35,000 25,000 112,050 4*48

2. Pulses 50,000 150,000 300 2,295 3,874 1*69
3. Ghee 1,000 20,000 20 00 7,200 391 8,266 21*14
4. Sugar 2,000 20,000 1000 9,050 267 2,136 8 00
5. Printed Calico, Silk &
Cotton Cloths 200,000 24,441 1,800
6. Rice(ksna) 100,000 100,000 100 10,000 800 1,400 1*75
7. Mustard Oil 4,000 32,000 8 00 6,467 1,640 11,480 700
8. Tobacco 4,000 16,000 400 870 4,350 5 00
•
9. Wheat 2,000 2,500 250 750 1,125 ‘ 150

10. Gut (Molasses) 4,000 10,000 2 50 650 1,300 2 00
11. Opium --- — * ♦ 60 24,500 400*00
12. Cutlery etc. 2,000 80,000 22,072 10,000
13. Jute Nil Nil 165 412 2*50
14. Miscellaneous 26,467 35,773
Total + 1022,500 140,697 218,466
* Abkari opium does not appear in the import list of Lakhimpur. It is known from other resources that 38jmds. of abkari opium
worth Rs. 15,420 were sold in Lakhimpur in the year 1851-52.
+ The list and respective totals are not exhaustive and are based on estimates.
SOURCE : The same as of Table 8*3.
TABLE 8.5
Total cultivated acreage in Assam Proper
Cultivated Cultivated Population As of 185?

District Acreage as Acreage as as of 1853 Cultivated
of 1849-50 of 1852-53 Acreage per
head of
population
Kamrup 472,624 478,699 387,775 1.23

Darrang 233,615 223,699 185,569 1.21
Nowgong 181,917 174,777 241,300 0.72
Sibsagar 168,164 180,673 159,573 1.13
Lakhimpur 21,234 21,483 85,296 0.25
Total of
Assam Proper 1077,554 1079331 1059,513 1.02
SOURCE: Mills, Report on the Province o f Assam, [66], 5 and Appendix A.

Area given in the source, in pura or bigha units, has been converted
into acres.
Cultivated acreage here stands for net cropped area plus the current
fallow for which land revenue was paid.
TABLE 8.6
Select exports and their prices : comparison over time
A. Quantities Exported
Quantity in mds exported Quantity in mds

from Assam proper exported from
Sibsagar and
Lakhimpur alone
1808-09 1833-34 1834-35 1852
Mustard-secd 15,000 83,4571 163,705 2,400

Muga thread 65 291 225 700
Lac 10,000 3,600 3,931 ------
Cotton 7,000 8,543 6,967 13,209

Total value of
All Exports
including
above items. Rs. 130,900 Rs. 249,367 Rs. 304,186 Rs. 445,908
Quantity in mds exported Quantity in mds

from Assam proper exported from
Sibsagar and
Lakhimpur alone
1808-09 1833-34 1834-35 1852
B. Average Prices at Export Point
Mustard-seed
(Rs. per md.) 1.33 0.75 1.00 2.06
Muga thread
(Rs. per seer) 4.36 5.00 5.99 4.37
Lac (Rs. per md.) 3.05 12.46 10.96 5.25
Cotton (Rs. Per md.) 5.00 4.68 ------ 3.50
C. Average price of
Imported Salt
(Rs. per md.)* 5.50 5.00 4.50 3.70
NOTE :
Mustard-seed and lac were exported mainly from the three
districts of Lower Assam, for which we have no data for 1852.
* Average price, derived from the import via the border district of
Goalpara only, has been given in this row for the sake of
comparability.
SOURCE : For 1808-09, Buchanan-Hamilton, An Account o f Assam [38],
45-6. For the thirties, Pemberton, The Report on the Eastern
Frontier..., 1835, [70], Tables 12-14. The figures for lac
exports have been adjusted. For 1852, our Tables 8.3 and 8.4.
Average prices have been derived from the quantity and value of
goods, given in the original tables.
N otes
1. Memorandum of Campbell, Papers Relating to the Tea industry in Bengal [59],

Appendix D, 121.
2. The magnitude of annual spending has been estimated on the basis of the
assumption that one-third of the final value of crops was spent m Assam. See
Table 8.1 in the tex. As to the spending in Lakhimpur, Board of Revenue
to Bengal Govt, 20 March 1857, Bengal Revenue Cons. [33], 22 April 1858,
No. 8.
3. For pages 159-64 our data are from Antrobus, A History of the Assam Company
[118], unless indicated otherwise.
4. The Secy, to the Assam Co. to the Court of Directors, 14 January 1845, cited by
B.N. Chaudhury, An Economic History o f Assam 1845-58 [135], 30.
5. For collated information on enterprises, Robinson, A Descriptive Account o f
Assam [183], 239 ; Antrobus [118], 73,309 and 357 ; Arunoday, Vol. 9, January
1854 [209]; Macleod, Sketch o f Medical Topography ofBishnath [171], 21.
6. Calculated from data in Antrobus [118], 51,322,383 and 475.

7. For a short account of the moribund iron industry, Sharma, Maniram Dewan
[203], Appendix, 6-10.
8. Jenkins to Off. Secy, to Govt, of Bengal, 11 Nov. 1859 in Selections from the
Records......., Vol. 37 [79], 25. Of all planter-held lands, only some 30 per cent
were under lea even as late as 1947.
9. Chaudhury [135], 11 and 14-15.
10. Ibid., 34.

11. Barpujari, Assam in the Days of the Company [ 124], 2 15n and 257n.
12. Antrobus [118], 387. C.A. Bruce was the first Superintendent of the Assam
C o/s Northern Division.
13. Butler, Travels and Adventures in the Province.......[133], 244 and 258-9 ;
Barpujari [124], 245-6.
14. Ibid., 232-3.
15. According to Statistical Tables for British India, 5th Issue [112], raw cotton
exports from Bengal ports to the UK steadily went down from a total value of £
83,328 in 1852-53 to £ 2,444 by 1859-60.
16. Quote from Major Vetch, Off. Commissioner of Revenue, Assam to Mills, 22
June 1853 in Mills, Report on the Province o f Assam [66], Appendix C, xv.
17. Observation by a missionary in Arunoday, Vol. 9, as cited in ft. n. 5.
18. Antrobus [118], 99.
19. Barpujari [124], 205-7 ; Arunoday, Vol. 15, June 1860 [209]. The quote is from
Selections from Records.......Vol. 37, (79], op. cit., 4.
20. Antrobus [118], 80, 70,405 and 478. Of the amount, only half was raised in the
UK, and that, too, was repaid within years. The rest was raised in India.
21. For an estimate of investment per acre of tea plantations, also see Report o f the
Commissioners Appointed to Enquire into the State and Prospects o f Tea
Cultivation in Assam, Cachar and Sylhet 1868 [58], 4-6. According to this
source the cost of making a tea garden, i.e. the cost of bringing up of land to
crop-yielding stage was of the order of Rs. 500 per acre. To this of course should
be added the overhead costs of other assets. It was claimed in the early 1870s that
the investment was nearly £ 70 per each planted acre. - D.H. Buchanan, The
Development o f Capitalist Enterprise in India [131], 57.
22. See Note 20.
23. Directors and Officers of the Company had been planting tea estates on their own
account for years. Henry Burkinyoung’s Numaligaih was started in 1852-53.
George Williamson, Junior, owned Kaliabor which he first planted in 1856 ; he,
with George Williamson, Senior, and the latter’s brother Captain J.H.
Williamson, shared in the ownership of Cinnamara, which was opened out in
1854, and of Oating in 1857—all of which were incorporated subsequently into
the Jorhat Company.—Antrobus [118], 110.
24. Quote from Gait, A History o f Assam [149], 408 ; also see Antrobus [118], 314-
15 and 395.
25. Ibid., 328.
26. B.R. Medhi, Finance Minister, Govt, of Assam in his Budget Speech of 1950-51
said : 'For the development and encouragement of this Tea Industry, Assam had
to sacrifice not less than 25 crores of rupees in the shape of revenue and other
concessions in respcct of fee-simple and other grants offered at nominal revenue.
27. Kling, 'The origin of managing agency system in India', Journal o f Asian
Studies, Vol. 26 [164], 44. The original partners of the firm, Carr, Tagore and
Co., included William Carr, William Prinsep and the two Tagores. When Carr
and Prinsep left for the UK, Other Europeans were taken in as partners, but
Dwarkanath Tagore remained a constant partner and the chief financier. After
serving as a director on the Calcutta Board of the Assam Co. for two years
(1839-41) Prinsep became an important member of the London Board (1842-73)
and died in hames?
28. Antrobus [118], 413. Using the same source as Antrobus, Kling puts the
number of Indian-owned shares much higher. Obviously, the number might vary
from day to day because shares frequently changed hands. It is also to be noted
that, because of circumstances of free trade and exchange, shares registered in
Calcutta could be easily transferred to London and vice versa. So it is difficult to
ascertain how much of the relevant investment was Britain's home savings.
Apparently, both William Prinsep and Henry Burkinyoung, who held substantial
blocs of London-registered shares, had made their fortunes in India.
For infoimation on Maniram, Baipujari [124], 156-7 and Shanna [203], cited in
Note 7 above.
The yield, estimated by me, at 12 mds of rice (i.e. 18 mds of unhusked paddy
grain) per acre is a conservative one. The average yield of rice was likely to be far
higher in the early 19th century than what prevailed during, say, the four-year
period 1952-3 to 1955-6, when the average per-acie yield of rice for Assam, as a
whole, was 878 lbs or nearly 10 mds. See also Note 31 below. Sources for other
crop yields :—for cotton, Appendix to Agricultural Statistics of British India,
1891-92 [109]; for opium, Butler, Travels and Adventures.......[133), 244 ; for
muga silk, Hugon, JASB, Vol. 6 [96], 31 ; for sugarcane, the average yield for
the four-year period 1952-3 to 1955-6 for Assam, as a whole, was 2270 lbs.
Physical productivity of one plough measure of land, as given by Buchanan-

Hamilton, An Account o f Assam........ [38], 36. To find out the value-product, we
have used 1852 prices-As 8 per md. for paddy and Rs. 2 per md. for mustard-
seeds. In 1835, a 16-acre single-crop wet rice farm, with 3 pairs of bullocks and
five hired ploughmen for 8 months was expected to produce annually 400 mds of
rice. This suggested a productivity of 25 mds of the sali variety of rice per acre.
It should be noted that the productivity of the ahu variety (dry rice) was less. -
Mathie of Jenkins, 15 Feb., 1835 [28].
9
A Big Push Without A Take-off
With Calcutta at its centre and with tea and jute as the main levers of
change and population movements, Eastern India presents an integrated
pauem of historical development since the middle of the last century.
An attempt is made here to bring out the basic character of this process
and its impact on the agrarian society of the Brahmaputra valley. The
main focus is on the five contiguous districts—we shall be here
referring to the former districts and their then subdivisions—and known
as Assam Proper in the early British administrative reports. In 1961 its
area was 17,719 sq. miles. This area today is the most developed core
of Assam’s economy.
A t T he T hreshold O f T he S eventies
The early period of British rule in Assam Proper, 1826 to 1870,
was one of administrative and economic consolidation. The population
increased from an estimated seven or eight lakhs in 1826 to eleven
lakhs in 1853 and then to nearly fifteen lakhs by 1872. Slavery and
serfdom involving an estimated five to nine per cent of the population
and the widespread poppy cultivation were suppressed in 1843 and
1860, respectively. But the unrestricted sale of abkari opium introduced
in 1851-52 contiuned to be a menace to the Assamese society. Opium
sales accounted for almost half the total revenue collection in Assam
Proper until the seventies. In 1864-65, for example, the opium revenue
amounted to Rs. 1083,642 while the land revenue yielded Rs.
1001,773 only. By 1872-73, the current land revenue demand was
revamped to Rs. 2155,157. Opium revenue remained above rupees
eleven lakh in 1873-4, even after an upward change in its price. By
the end of the century it crossed the figure of rupees eighteen lakh.
With the ascendency of industrial capital over mercantile interests
in Great Britain by 1833, the British policy in Assam received a clear
direction towards colonialization. By 1871 more than three lakh acres
of wastelands had been settled with planters in Assam Proper alone.
These settlements were fee-simple or charged at nominal rates, while,
at the same time the burden of land revenue on ordinary farmers was
A BIG PUSH WITHOUT A TAKE-OFF 187
progressively and systematically enhanced in order to encourage their

transfer from subsistence farming to plantation jobs. Although not
high enough to serve the purpose, the average land revenue burden of
Rs. 1.47 per head of population in Assam Proper in 1872-73 was
much heavier than what prevailed in permanently settled areas.1 The
actual burden was more than what was apparent For, the inclusion of
the negligible amount of land revenue paid by the planters for their tea
lands and of the population thereupon had the effect of largely deflating
the average figure in the former case.
Introduced by 1839, tea was firmly established as a new crop by
the seventies. Assuming an investment of Rs. 600 per planted acre
(with a gestation period of four years), the total investment for 31,000
acres by 1871 may be estimated at Rs. 18.6 million or Rs. 12 per head
of the total population at that time.2
Steamer services began to ply up and down the Brahmaputra from
1847, but more regularly from 1861 under a British private company.
The outgoing merchandise handled were mainly tea, rubber, gum and
silk. Mustard-seeds were mostly transported in boats. The principal
imports handled were rice, salt, various planters’ stores, piece-goods
and indentured labour. The Public Works Department started its road
construction programme from the sixties. But the building of railways
did not start before 1881 ; their importance in communications of
Assam was felt not before 1901.
In 1874 Assam was separated from the Bengal Presidency and was
organized as a Chief Commissioner's Province, much to the
satisfaction of the local public. The first English school had been
established at Guwahati in 1835. In 1872 there were six such English
Schools which sent up candidates for the Entrance Examination of the
Calcutta University. Of the University's 938 successful matriculates of
that year, only four were from Assam Proper. Nevertheless an
enlightened West-oriented Assamese intelligentsia had already emerged
by the seventies. Anandaram Dhekial Phukan (1829-59), a product of
the Hindu College, Calcutta, championed the cause of Assamese as a
language distinct from Bengali. After long thirtysix years of
suppression since 1836 it was once more recognised in 1872 for use in
the schools and law-courts of Assam. In 1898 and 1899, thirty two and
fiftyone students from the Brahmaputra Valley schools respectively,
passed the entrance examination. During the twelve years ending 1900,
twentynine natives of the same; area obtained their B.A. degree. The
first printing press (1836) and the first Assamese periodical, Arunoday
(1846-1883), introduced by the American Baptist Mission helped the
dissemination of scientific outlook. By 1872, Assam Proper had
altogether three local newspapers—two published from Sibsagar and

one from Guwahati-the same number as Orissa had at the time.
What Assam meanwhile lacked, however, was a fair share in
commerce. Despite new openings, the Assamese were found indifferent
to trading as an occupation. Maniram Dewan, the first Indian tea
planter whose two tea gardens were confiscated on his martyrdom for
alleged conspiracy during the 1857 revolts, was rather an exception.
About a decade thereafter Rosheswar Barua pioneered a few small
gardens, but was ruined by the crisis of 1866-67.3 Of the several
hundred planters hardly two to three dozens were native of the
Brahmaputra valley at the close of the century. Invariably they were
owners of very small tea gardens. Hence, the seventies opened with an
unrivalled British monopoly over the plantation sector which continued
to expand till the end of the British rule. Outside this sector, almost
the entire internal trade—export of lac, rubber, cotton, long-pepper,
silk etc. and import of various manufactured consumer goods—was
meanwhile in the hands of the Marwari trading community. The only
exception to this was the trade in oil-seeds. The indigenous farmer
traders of Kamrup were traditionally associated therewith from medieval
times, but they were destined to lose their ground soon to Marwari
traders.
T h e M e ch an ism O f E co n o m ic C h a n g e : 1871-1901
The Big Push

The period was one of hectic investment activities on the part of
British enterprise in its drive for exploitation of colonial resources. A
set of wastelands settlement rules were accordingly formulated—and
then repeatedly revised—to facilitate British capital exports to north
east India. The total area of wastelands settled with planters in Assam
Proper increased from slightly over three lakh acres in 1871 to 6.4 lakh
acres by 1901. The total value of revenue concessions enjoyed by the
planters over these lands till 1901, would have amounted to several
crores of rupees if calculated at the ordinary rate paid by rice farmers.4
Tea-processing machinery were increasingly used from the early
seventies onwards. The average investment per planted acre calculated
at Rs. 600 for an earlier period may therefore be fairly revised at Rs.
1,000 for the period 1872-1901.5 In the decade ending 1881, the total
acreage under tea in Assam Proper leaped up by 63.8 thousand acres. In
other words, a sum of Rs. 63.8 million was newly invested in that
decade, as against an investment of Rs. 13.2 million in the preceding
twelve years. This tempo was maintained for the next two decades as
well.
Acreage under tea increased from 93,802 acres in 1881 to 204,682
acres in 1901-02. This increase by about 111 thousand acres— 118 per
cent over the acreage in 1881—represents an investment of Rs. 110.9
million. Railway investments amounted to Rs. 62.4 million—(total
construction outlay on all Indian Railways as of 1900 amounted to Rs.
3,295 million)—calculated on the basis of construction outlay on the
400 miles of tracks in Assam Proper.6 However, even as late as 1901
the railways still failed by a few miles to link up Assam Proper with
the rest of India. British investments in coal (Rs. 5.4 million
approximately), petroleum (Rs. 4.6 million approximately) and saw
mills (Rs. 1 million approximately) were also newly made in these
two decades. Some one hundred or so new telegraph signalling offices
and several hundred miles of tele-communications and pebbled roads
were built by the Government. So total investments in the organized
economic sector of Assam Proper during the period, 1881-1901,
appears to have been around Rs. 200 million, even at a conservative
estimate.7
This gives us an approximate average investment of Rs. 10 million
or so annually, for a population rising from 1.8 million in 1881 to 2.2
million in 1901. This big push, although presumably equal in size to
some 15 to 20 per cent of the region's existing national income, did
not however lead to any commensurate growth in the indigenous sector
of the economy either simultaneously or in the following dccades.
Some Sources o f Capital

Surplus : The huge investment was made possible no doubt by
migrated British business leadership and capital. But the sccond factor
should not be exaggerated. Only a small part of the total investments
in tea appears to have originated from Britain's home savings—the
major part represents undistributed surplus and ploughed back dividends
of the older companies already operating In Assam. Published histories
of both the Assam Company for 1839-1953, and the Jorehaut Tea
Company for 1859-1946 amply conoborate this view.
Between 1854 and 1901 the Assam Company did hardly rai?e any
additional capital or long-term loans to augment its initial capital of
Rs. two million. Yet the acreage under tea had more than trebled from
3,313 acres in 1854 to 10,762 acres in 1901. Of this, an increase of
5,562 acres took place during the period 1872-1901, thus representing
an estimated new investment of Rs. 5.6 million. Even after providing
for such a huge expansion out of the current earnings, the 'Vmpany
made a total dividend profit of rupees nine million or twenty per cent
of the gross earnings of these years. Founders of many companies, the
second joint-stock concern in the field, the Jorehaut Tea Company
(18S9) for example, built up their initial capital by fraudulent use of
the Assam Company's seeds, tools and man-power while planting
their tea gardens. In this respect, the official history of the Assam
Company may be quoted.*
...from the highest Administrative Officer in Calcutta and Assam to the newest
joined Assistant, were, speaking generally, all in this racket of using the
circumstances of their employment to open out land under tea in competition with
their own employers....
They were blatant enough to have taken up their lands near the boundary or actually
adjoining the Company's grants, and it would not be difficult to guess from whence
they obtained their tea-seed and labour....
To put it plainly, their employment by the Assam Company as Assistants gave
them the necessary subsistence on which to live in the province while they pursued
the objects of their own enterprise.
Thus, what appeared as cost items in the accounts of the Assam
Company became the initial capital of some new companies. This did
not certainly represent fresh import of Sterling capital although the
new company was floated in London apparently with Sterling capital.
Opening of new tea gardens by British district magistrates, police
officers, civil surgeons, military officers etc., after only a few years'
service in India also does not represent home savings of Britain.9 These
facts induce us to believe that from 1854 onwards the surplus extracted
from the plantations as well as savings from the personal earnings of
British officers on Indian service, which were available for investment,
were large enough for financing the rapid expansion of the tea acreage.
Particularly so since the industry had to pay practically nothing to the
Government either as price or in the form of rent or taxes for the land
in their occupation.
Labour Squeeze : To maximize the surplus, labour was paid a wage
below the free market rate. Free market wages recorded between 1875
and 1899 a fiftysix per cent increase in the Brahmaputra valley.10 This
was because of labour scarcity and also because the price of rice was
rising. With 1873 as the base year, the price of rice in the normal years
showed, on the whole, an average upward trend during the period 1871-
1901, as is indicated below.
Index No. o f Rice Prices (187-100): Select years
1864 1871 1875 1881 1885 1891 1895 1901

111.2 104.1 125.6 106.8 137.2 136.9 138.0 184.7
A BIG PUSH WITHOUT A TAKE-OI I- 191
In 1864 while free labour was able to earn a wage of Rs. 7 per month
from the P.W.D., the going wage in the Assam Company's
plantations was Rs. 4 to Rs. 5. But the average rate earned in many
gardens was Rs. 3.50 only.11 In the face of rising prices, the
Government attempted to set the norm of minimum wage for contract
labour in plantations at Rs. 5, Rs. 4 and Rs. 3 for men, women and
children, respectively. At the same time, there was the proviso that the
planter would make rice available to them at the rate of one rupee per
maund. This was provided by the second Labour Act of 1865. But for
decades to come, the planters managed to pay a lower cash wage by
manipulating the piece-rate task. They also brought down the real
wages by raising the price of rice to Rs. 2, then to Rs. 2.50 and finally
to Rs. 3 by 1900.12 Thus, throughout the period under review, the
contract labourers under the Emigration Act were receiving almost half
the wage earned by the free agricultural labourers. The wage rate of able
bodied agricultural labourers in Lakhimpur, e.g., was Rs. 9.37 per
month in 1873. Thereafter, it never decreased below Rs. 6, except in
1875 and 1876. In most of the subsequent years till 1901, their
monthly wage-rate ranged between Rs. 8 and Rs. 11. As against this,
only in rare cases could a tea labour earn a wage as high as Rs. 6.50
(Table 9.3). In 1888-89 an Emigration Act labourer was receiving only
about half the going wage. In the period of falling tea prices in the
international market since 1881, the planters maximized their total
profit by expanding the acreage, by increasing value yield per acre
through the deepening of capital and by freezing wages.
Burden on Peasants
The planters had already enclosed by 1901 some one-fourth of the
total seuled area (or five per cent of total area) of Assam Proper, under
their exclusive proprietory rights.12 Thereby they limited to that extent
the facilities of fluctuating or shifting cultivation as well as of grazing
and collecting activities of the local population—particularly the
tribals. Acreage under tea formed only eight to ten per cent of the
occupied tea area in the early seventies and some twentynine per cent
even as late as 1947. Why did the tea gardens enclose excess lands or
why did the Government allow them to do so ? Such a policy, like one
of enhancing land revenue demand on peasant holdings and that of
increasing the monopoly price of opium, obviously aimed at forcing
the local farmers into acceptance of plantation employment. This had
only partial results. For, in 1868-69, there were as many as 18,783
local labourers on a monthly average as against 21,667 imported
labourers on the plantations.14 But thereafter, when thousands of
additional hands were required every year, local labour supply did hardly
respond to the low wages. This happened despite a hundred per cent
increase in the total land revenue demand oil Assam Proper between
1867-68 and 1872-73 and an increase in the opium price from Rs. 14
per seet in 1860 to Rs. 20 in 1862 and to Rs. 23 by 1873. In 1893,
the land revenue rates on peasant holdings were once more revamped
even in the face of a mass upsurge of protesting peasants in Kamrup
and Darrang which was suppressed by pdlice firings. The initial
increase in the land revenue demand in Assam Proper was fiftythree per
cent, but it had to be reduced to thirtyseven per cent.15 The price of
opium per seer was also gradually increased to Rs. 37 by 1890—a 60
per cent increase during the period. But all these measures failed to
attract Assamese labour to wage employment. Of the 307 thousand
workers on the plantations of Assam Proper in 1901, only some
20,000 were reported to be local labourer^ of whom 14,000 were
Kachari tribals.16
The planters therefore had to depend almost entirely on the famine-
stricken tribal areas of the rest of India for a steady labour supply.
Between 1871 and 1901 more than 11 lakh recruits, men, women and
children, entered Assam; mostly Assam Proper.17 A considerable
number were repatriated every year on expiry of their contract period,
but many settled down permanently in the t<Ja districts voluntarily or
under duress. Throughout the period 1865 to 1908, the planters
exercised the right of private arrest without warrant. Keeping wages in
arrears occasionally for as long as six months appears to have been a
common practice.18
Source o f Railway Investments

Investments in the railways also did not wholly originate in U.K.
For, under the Guarantee System, much of the guaranteed return on the
capital outlay was financed by Government even at the risk of loss on
Government revenue account. For example, the Government of India
incurred a total loss of Rs. 35.9 million towards supporting the
Assam-Bengal Railways during the period from 1895 to 1917-18, i.e.
an average loss of nearly Rs. 3 million annually. Similarly, a total
subsidy of Rs. 1.2 million was paid by the ASsam Government to the
Dibru-Sadiya Railways over the period 1884-1903. The Jorhat State
Railways was a project of the Government of Assam 'for the
convenience of numerous tea gardens in the neighbourhood of Jorhat',
involving public investment of nearly rupees one million and an
accumulated loss of Rs. 5 lakh upto 1901. Even Local Government
funds were utilized for the railway construction. For example, in the
case of the Tezpur-Balipara Light Railways, while tea gardens

subscribed to 45 per cent of its paid-up capital of Rs. 4 lakh,, the
Government supplied timber free of royalty, and the Local Board of
Tezpur paid a total subsidy of Rs. 1 lakh in 20 annual instalments.19
From these facts it appears that the role of public funds realized
from increased taxation was not inconsiderable in railway-building in
Assam. But the plantation-oriented rate structure and the alignment of
the railroads through thinly-populated submontane tracts did not benefit
the farmers as much as they should have done in ordinary
circumstances. Despite the hectic development activities since the
seventies, Assam Proper had in 1901 only four townships with a
population of above 5,000. In two of them—Guwahati and Barpeta—
the population had actually declined since 1881 ; the former's from
11,695 to 11,561 and the latter's from 13,758 to 11,227. Thus, even
the erstwhile centres of commerce were hardly helped by the forces of
development in the field.
Impact of Immigration
By the middle of the nineteenth century, Assam Proper had become
a deficit area in food grajns. The annual rice imports were estimated at
no less than three lakh maunds in 1873. During the eighties and early
nineties the rice imports from Bengal into the Brahmaputra valley
ranged from four to five lakh maunds per year.20 Thereafter the annual
net import of rice exceeded seven lakh maunds. An increasing inflow of
labour recruits to the plantations and railways construction led to rising
prices of rice as against the falling prices of tea and salt (App. Table
9.2). As shown above, ttye imported labourers of the tea industry were
tied down to stationary—or even falling—real wages while food prices
and wages outside the plantations were rising. On expiry of contract,
the labourers therefore preferred to settle down on wastelands as
independent peasants. Many even escaped their contracts to find refuge
in Assamese villages as agricultural labour. Thus the competition of
rice and tea for the scarce human labour, although greatly checked by
law of contract and labour recruitment, was nevertheless a force at play.
That is why continued and heavy recruitment drives in other provinces
became a permanent feature with the tea industry.
Until the beginning of a still bigger population movement from
East Bengal to Assam ii^ this century, tea remained the biggest factor
responsible for immigration. Large-scale labour recruitment from
outside had started from the early sixties. In 1872, imported labour on
tea gardens alone was estimated at 40,000 ; and the total number of
non-indigenous people including them at some 80,000 or so in a total
population of 1,496 thousands. By 1881, the non-indigenous element

appears to have increased to about three lakhs in a population of 1,805
thousands.21 Similar estimates for 1891 and 1901 were made in the
Census Report of 1901, on the basis of a list of indigenous castes and
tribes. These estimates, as given below, fairly reflect the increasing
shares of non-indigenous elements in the population, since Muslims
and Christians together formed a negligible fraction (six per cent at the
most) thereof.
Thus the non-indigenous population appears to have increased from
less than one lakh in 1872 to anything between five and six lakhs in
1901. But on the other hand, the indigenous Assamese population
which had been growing fast during the years 1872-81, remained
almost stationary for the next twenty years. In fact, it decreased six per
cent between 189J and 1901, because of the black fever (Kalazar)
epidemic.
COMPOSITION OF POPULATION : ASSAM PROPER
1891 <%) 1901 (%)

Total Population 2023,708 (100) 2157,025 (100)
Indigenous H indu
1584,027 (78.3) 1504,847 (67.8)
Castes and Tribals
The Rest 439,681 (21.7) 652,178 (32.2)
SOU RCE : Assam Census Report, 1901 [104], 29-30.
This epidemic first appeared in the district of Goalpara in 1883,

entered Assam Proper in 1888 and thereafter spread throughout its
length and breadth. During the decade, 1881-91, the population of
Goalpara sub-division decreased 18 per cent and that of Kamrup district
1.6 per cent. During the next decade, the population of Kamrup
decreased 7.1 per cent, that of Mangaldai sub-division 9 per cent and
that of Nowgong district 24.8 per cent. It was the indigenous
population, particularly the tribals, who were most hard-hit. As a
result, despite an overall increase in the population of the district of
Darrang due to immigration, the indigenous component of it was
believed to have decreased 8 per cent between 1891 and 1901. The
districts of Lakhim,pur and Sibsagar were, however, least affected,
much to the relief of the planters. The population of Lakhimpur
increased 46.1 per cent during the decade— 16 per cent through natural
growth and 30 por cent through immigration. The population of
Sibsagar increased 24.4 per cent which was due in equal proportion to
natural growth and immigration.22
Immigration from outside apart, there was also some migration of
indigenous tribal population from the district of Kamrup and
Mangaldai to the tea districts. Thus the pull of the plantation sector
coupled with other factors brought two big demographic changes
during the three decades ending 1901—one in the ethnic composition
of the population and another in its spatial distribution over the
districts. The proportion of indigenous Hindu castes and aboriginal
tribes in the total population came down from almost a hundred per
cent in the pre-Annexation days to 78.3 per cent in 1881, and then to
67.8 per cent in 1901. Thus, non-indigenous elements constituted one-
quarter to one-third of the population of Assam Proper in 1901. In that
year, as well as in 1921, more than two-fifth of the population of
Lakhimpur district were enumerated to have been bom outside the
province. At the same time, only 39 per cent of Lakhimpur's total
population in 1901 returned Assamese as their mother-tongue. People
born outside the Province constituted a quarter of the population of
Darrang and Sibsagar districts in that year. The change in spatial
distribution can be best seen in the density table (see Table 9.4). Until
1901, the density increased rapidly only in the tea districts. But
thereafter, and particularly from 1921 other factors contributed much
more towards density.
The demographic changes of 1871-1901 were economically
significant in more than one respect. Rapid increase in the number of
immigrants as against a stagnated indigenous population, almost all of
whom were engaged in subsistence farming, could mean only two
things. First, a continued imbalance between the fast growth of the
modem sector composed of plantations, coal, petroleum and the
associated infra-structure on the one hand and the slovenly growth, if
any, of the traditional agricultural sector on the other. During the
period under review overall population increase kept pace with the
increase in acreage under ordinary crops (see Table 9.5). The increased
demand for rice, bamboo etc., enhanced the farmers' cash incomes, no
doubt. But they could not make the best use of the situation because of
acute labour shortage within the sector.
Secondly, the gap between the gross earnings of the economy and
the locally disbursed income originating therefrom increasingly
widened. Not only that the surplus was remitted abroad in the form of
high dividends and transferred savings from high salaries, but also a
part of the poor wages was also remitted outside the geographic area.
Such petty remittances by migrant workers were mostly carried on
1% MEDIEVAL AND EARLY COLONIAL ASSAM
their persons at the time of return to their places of origin. Income-

remitting people of small means also availed of the growing postal
facilities, as is suggested by the available figures for the whole
province of Assam:
Money Money Money Money Money

orders orders orders ordos outflow
Selected issued issued pad paid through
year within within in in money
Assaffi Assam Assam Assam Orders
(no.) (Value) (No.) (Value) (Value)
Rs. Rs Rs
1880-81 43,680 134,613 11,738 45,800 88,813
1885-86 144,003 349.581 52,089 141,459 208,122
1897-98 394,577 926,704 124,413 405,581 521,123
1904-05 532,174 9787,328 204,010 4982,697 4804,631
S o u rc e ¡Worked out from data in Financial and Commercial Statistics o f

British India, 6th Issue (1899) [110], 290-6 ; ibid, 13th Issue
(1907) [110], 258 and 264.
Thus the net remittance outside the province by money orders

increased from less than Rs. 90 thousand in 1880-81 to more than Rs.
5.2 lakh annually in 1897-98 and thereafter to nearly Rs. 5 million by
1904-5. The bulk of this was presumably from Assam Proper.
Even that portion of surplus retained within the industries for self-
financed horizontal expansion were mostly on imported goods and
services. Demand for trading, clerical, skilled and even unskilled
services invited migration o f suitable personnel belonging to non-
indigenous ethnic groups, such as the Marwari traders and Bengali
professionals who had dependents at home to support. The variety of
consumption goods required by these incoming people—wheat-flour,
edible oil, ghee, refined sugar, shoes and piece goods—could not be
readily produced locally because the small domestic market was not
large enough to produce them profitably either with traditional or
imported technique. Hence, the spill-over process of this colonial
pattern of development was extremely limited. This problem was
aggravated also by a deliberate policy, as is stated by the official
historian of the Assam Company :
"It was the Company's normal policy to purchase the bulk of the
gardens' requirement of stores in the United Kingdom and ship them
to India."23
To sum up, the gross export earnings—tea alone accounting for 70

to 80 per cent thereof—of the economy were far in excess of the
merchandise import bill. The excess represented a surplus which
appears to have involved also an element of unrequitted, unilateral
transfer over and above what were legitimate payments for useful
invisible imports. Throughout the period, both exports and imports
were increasing rapidly, but the latter always remained around 50 per
cent of the former. Thus, the export surplus of the Brahmaputra valley
increased from nearly Rs. 11 million in 1883-84 to an annual average
of nearly Rs. 18 million during the four years from 1892-93 to 1895-
96. There was a return flow of net specie (treasures on Government and
private accounts) imports throughout this period, but the amount was
less than Rs. 2 million per year on the average. For example, in 1893-
94, Government treasures worth Rs. 596,000 and public treasures
worth Rs. 1457,282 moved into the Brahmaputra valley, while only
public treasures valued Rs. 101,774 moved out of it.
Bulk of the treasures was in the form of silver coins going into
circulation under the pressure of increasing monetization of the
economy. All this may be viewed against our estimated average annual
investment of Rs. 10 million and our assumed annual national income
of Rs. 50 to Rs. 60 million for the area, during the period.
Thus, during the period 1871-1901, the economy of Assam Proper
had developed all the characteristics of a dual economy with a cleavage
between the traditional subsistence sector and a capital-intensive,
highly monetized modem sector. The main cash crop of the peasant
sector was mustard-seeds. It accounted at the most for 7 to 14 per cent
of the total export earnings till 1895-96. But this share, along with the
output in absolute terms, fluctuated violently from year to year as is
indicated below:
E x p o r t O f M u s ta r d - S e e d s F ro m T h e B r a h m a p u tr a V a l l e y
(In one lakh mds) Average of three

years ending
1880-81 1881-82 1882-83 1891-92 1901-02
8.55 6.89 4.63 12.75 4.50
S o u rc e : Assam Administrative Report, 1ft82-83 [39], vii ; An Account of

the Province o f Assam 1901-02 [40], 34.
Its share in export earnings declined heavily particularly since the

disastrous earthquake of June 1897. Increased cash sale of rice and
bamboo to tea gardens somewhat compensated the peasants. But the

diffused increments in their cash incomes, cut to size by increased land-
revenue demand and an increase in the retail price of opium, could
hardly encourage any capital formation on the farms. Doubly
handicapped with shortage of labour as well as of capital, what the
traditional sector could do was to grow more rice by diverting family
labour from the cultivation of other crops and from certain handicrafts
to rice fields. Even so, and despite some additional rice production by
ex-plantation labour, the rice acreage and output did not increase in
tune with demand. As a result the price of rice was abnormally high
while that of tea was low in the nineties. The index (1873=100 : rice,
13.6 seers per rupee and tea, Rs. 1-2 as. per lb.)was as follows:
1891 1893 1895 1897 1899 1901
R ice: 136.9 174.8 138.0 225.2 127.6 184.7

Tea: 65 62 71 54 52 51
(Indian Pekoe)
S o u rce : See Table 9.2.
Scarcity of rice and grain-riots were reported from Nowgong in

October, 1896. The earthquake further worsened the situation for the
next few years. Thus the nineteenth century closed with an agrarian
crisis. There was retardation or very slow growth in farm production on
the one hand and over-production of tea as a result of continuous
technological progress on the other. The planters had already founded
the Indian Tea Association (ITA), the organ of their private monopoly
power as early as 1881. Through this they introduced fine plucking as
a measure of crop restriction for the first time in 1901. Henceforward,
the growing influence of the ITA was felt in every sphere of economic
and political life in Assam which persisted even after independence.
T he T urning P oint
The decade of 1901-11 provided a turning point in the pattern and
mechanism of economic change. The growth in the tea acreage
remarkably slowed down during the decade and thereafter. It was only
8.2 per cent (18,528 acres) representing an estimated investment of Rs.
18.5 million during the decade. But the railway investments of the
decade were as high as Rs. 28 million for an additional 166 miles of
tracks in Assam Proper. Another Rs. 33.1 million was spent for 85
miles of tracks in Goalpara and 100 miles in other parts of the
province. Thus by 1911, railway through-transportation became

possible between Assam Proper and the rest of India along two routes.
By now Guwahati and Tinsukia were destined soon to become the
Province’s leading commercial towns.
All this brought forward a qualitative change in the situation in two
ways. First, the land-hungry jute-oriented peasants of East Bengal
could now come by thousands to colonize the riverine waste-lands, on
which the production potential of tea or wet rice was almost nil.
Secondly, the usury and trading capital which had accumulated over the
past decades in the hands of the Marwari Banias could now be more
productively used and speedily turned over as a result of increased
commodity circulation. So long their business had been limited to
collecting forest produce and the meagre farm surplus for the market
against the supply of imported manufactures. They also extended short
term finance to tea garden managers against hundis on Calcutta and
maintained shops in the gardens. From now onwards they began also
to increasngly finance jute in addition to other cash crops, and to start
mills for their processing. Better communications and the emergence of
jute trade as a productive channel of rural finance were the two
significant factors which, within years, gave a push to the agrarian
economy through expanded commerce. For the first time the
cultivation of jute became important in Assam Proper, increasing from
less than 500 acres before 1901 to over 6,000 acres by. 1911. (The total
jute acreage exceeded one lakh acres by 1930-31 and two lakh acres by
1961).
Meanwhile, the acreage under rice also recorded 27 per cent increase
during the decade, 1901-11, as against 5 per cent in the case of tea. The
share of tea in the net cropped area decreased from 11.4 per cent to 9.4
per cent Henceforward jute and the associated cultivation of paddy and
vegetables by the immigrant jute-growers were to play an increasingly
important role in the agrarian developments to follow. The East Bengal
colonists formed one-fifth of the population of Goalpara by 1911, and
thence began to move into Assam Proper.
C onclusion
There was undoubtedly an impressive growth during the years
1871-1901 in trams of railway mileage, tea acreage and some extractive
industries. The fast increase in tea exports—output increased from 6.3
million lbs. in 1871 to 72 million lbs. in 1901—was not different in
magnitude from, say, that in the raw silk exports of Japan during the
same period. But unlike in Japan the benefits of external trade could
not be widely absorbed into the agrarian society, nor could they be used
to back up expenditure on local resources. A part of the surplus was
locally reinvested no doubt; but, it was in the same tea industry,
leading to an over-production crisis by 1901, and in extractive
industries. In both cases almost all the inputs had to be imported.
Consumer goods industries did not come up at all, mainly because the
region's aggregate demand for the new types of goods was not enough
to induce local production on a competitive basis. This was the basic
problem till 1901 and remains so substantially till today.
A ppendix
TABLE 9.1
The statistics o f Assam Proper 1875-76 to 1901
Total area under Total approxi Average yield Acreage taken
tea in acres mate yield per acre of up but not
Year (mature and (in lbs.) matureplants planted
not mature)
1875-76 59,864 12602,098 228.80

1876-77 67,337 15533,792 254.11
1877-78 78,495 18852,992 325.83
1878-79 89,423 18804,256 289.35
1879-80 88,210 19625,634 303.52
1880 89,475 21465,551 311.03
1881 93,802 23683,721 311.17
1882 108,673 28023,527 296.90
1883 111,012 34041,487 345.16
1884 106,162 32901,486 353.90
1885 107,492 32530,061 358.68
1886 113,016 37362,740 384.78
1887 115,578 39081,121 389.44
1892 139,582 48916,479 408.86 435,933
1893 145,134 56926,108 457.12 436,807
1894 153,874 56402,244 426.24 440,915
1895 154,389 56497,593 414.39 424,422
1897 178,720 58936,773 384.37 394,912
1898 191,203 63603,751 397.06 399,168
1900 204,285 75125,176 426.75 422,002
1901 204,682 72381,251 395.17 437,636
: Statistical Tables for British India, 5th Issue [112], Agricultural

S o u rc e
Statistics o f British India, Vol. I [109] and subsequent volumes.
A BIG PUSH WITHOUT A TAKK-OFF 201
TABLE 92
Average price index o f rice, salt and tea 1861 to 1901
(Base year 1973: Average of all prices =100)
Average o fPrices : (Kamrup, Average o f maximum

4-yeaTperiod Nowgong, Lakhxmpur, and prices o fIndian
Goalpara taken together) Pekoe tea quoted
in Calcutta
Rice Salt
1861- 64 96.71 94.87
1865- 68 116.52 104.82
1869- 72 105.47 98.58
1874- 77 136.87 97.65 113.50
1878- 81 144.89 93.75 113.25
1882- 85 124.20 68.35 92.25
1886- 89 117.04 73.81 68.75
1890- 93 153.08 78.72 63.25
1894- 97 174.63 77.88 67.50
1898-1901 153.45 75.91 51.50
SOURCE : Processed from, "Prices and Wages in India " 19th Issue [111] 2-
3, 80-81 and 230.
In 1873, average price of rice was 18.60 seers per rupee and that
of salt 7.20 seers per rupee. The price of tea (Indian Pekoe) per
pound, in the same year, was 1 Re. 2 As.
TABLE 9.3
Average monthly wage of agricultural and plantation labour
Wage o f able- Index of Wage of Index of

bodied agri the previous Cachai the previous
Year cultural labour column Year labour at column
inLakhimpur (Base:1873) theSalonah (Base:1870)
(in Rupees) Tea Plantation,
Nowgong dis
trict (In Rs.)
1873 9.37 100 1870 5.83 100
1874-77 6 to 9 77 1880 6.50 111
1878-81 7 to 10 93 1890-92 tt
1882-85 7 to 15 101 1893 5.90 102

1886-89 7 to 10 92 1894 tt tt
1890-93 8 to 10 95 1900 4.80 82

1894-97 8 to 11 100 1901-02
tt
1898-1901 8 to 12 104
SOURCE • Processed from Prices and Wages in india, 19th issue [111] 264-
82, 319.
Wage of Cachari labour includes all allowances. In hoeing, full
wage was earned on completion of light hoeing work of 20 nulls a
day.
TABLE 9.4
Density of population per sq. mile
1872 1881 1891 1901 1911 1921 1951

I. Districts
Kammp 146 167 164 153 173 198 387
Darrang 69 80 90 99 110 170 326
Nowgong 68 82 90 69 79 108 409
Sibsagar 64 79 96 120 138 162 351
Lakhimpur 27 40 56 82 104 143 265
Goalpara 98 113 115 117 152 193 278
II. Subdivisions of Darrang

Tezpur 42 77 101 157 333
Mangaldoi 146 — 137 124 140 316
SOURCE *. Assam Census Reports [101] and District Census Handbooks

[104]. The density per sq. mile in Assam Proper in 1951 was
347.
TABLE 9.5
Index o f cropped acreage up to 1901 for Assam Proper
(.Base 1884-85=100)
Area Net Index Index
cropped cropped ofgross 4
Year Rice Tea more am cropped popula-
than area less lation
once am
under tea
1 2 3 4 5 6 1
1881 100
1884-85 100 100 100 100 100
1885-86 105 101 110 105 106
1886-87 145 106 130 112 114
1887-88 117 109 123 113 114
1888-89 118 110 129 114 116
1889-90 115 117 129 114 115
1890-91 120 123 130 118 119 112
1891-92 113 128 127 120 120
1892-93 126 131 132 128 129
1893-94 122 137 130 129 125
1894-95 124 145 119 123 121
1895-96 121 145 125 124 122
1896-97 121 155 126 125 122
1897-98 120 168 109 123 118
1898-99 122 180 107 124 118
1899-1900 120 186 94 123 116
1900-01 116 192 90 122 113 119
SOURCE Worked out from Government Statistics.
TABLE 9.6
Percentage area under different crops to total cropped
area for Assam Proper : 1882-83 to 1900-01
Other
food
Year Rice grains Sugar Fibres Oil Tea Mis
inclu cm seeds cella
ding jneous
pulses
1882-83 73.41 3.26 1.10 6.33 7.07 8.77
1884-85 67.30 3.11 1.17 0.05 9.13 7.04 12.19
1885-86 67.08 3.38 1.29 0.11 9.45 6.74 11.96
1886-87 68.29 3.04 1.19 0.12 8.75 6.60 12.02
1887-88 69.20 2.71 1.03 0.07 8.32 6.75 11.92
1888-89 68.72 3.42 1.10 0.06 6.37 8.70 11?92
1889-90 67.05 3.20 1.11 0.05 9.37 7.16 12.06
1890-91 67.82 3.10 1.05 0.05 8.65 7.27 12.07
1891-92 63.44 4.13 1.02 0.04 9.72 7.50 14.15
1892-93 66.08 3.68 1.01 0.02 9.08 7.18 12.95
1893-94 65.05 3.49 0.91 0.15 9.86 7.65 12.89
1894-95 67-74 3.31 0.97 0.13 7.12 8.31 12.42
1895-96 65.56 3.29 0.81 0.14 9.12 8.26 12.75
1896-97 65.21 3.96 1.00 0.21 9.45 8.75 11.42
1897-98 66.51 2.76 0.87 0.23 8.16 9.72 11.75
1898-99 67.10 3.56 0.81 0.20 6.55 10.35 11.43
1899-1900 66.79 3.88 0.91 0.24 5.86 10.88 11.44
1900-01 65.77 3.54 0.99 0.21 6.45 11.39 11.65
SOURCE- Worked out from Official Statistics.
N otes
1. Arunoday, Vol. 12, January 1867 [209]; Bengal Administration Report for 1872-
73 [411,85 ; Bengal Adm. Rep. for 1871-72 [41], 155.
9
2. The investment per acre represents paid-out wage costs for 1.5 units of labour
during the 4-year gestation period plus cost of seeds plus pro-rata share of the
overhead costs. My estimate is higher than that of the Report o f the
Commissioners Appointed to Enquire into the State and Prospects o f Tea
Cultivation in Assam, Cachar and Sylhet, 1868 [58], 4-6. The total cost of
bringing up an acre of tea plantation t'j crop-yielding stage was computed in the
report at Rs. 500 only.
In 1872 and 1873-quite normal years-the Assam Co. had 5,200 acres under
tea, and the market price of its £ 20 (=Rs. 200) shares ranged between £32 and
£42 each. The value of its 10,000 shares at the average mean price divided by the
given acreage will then roughly indicate the market value of the per-acre
investment. This comes out to be as much as Rs. 712. So our own estimate of
Rs. 600 for the period preceding mechanisation of the tea processing may be
considered fairly reasonable. Data used in our calculation are from Antrobus, A
History o f the Assam Company.. \ \ 18], 139-40, 409 and 416.
Bengal Adm. Rep. for 1867-68 [41], 207 and Bengal Adm. Rep. for 1868-69
[41], 191.
B.R. Medhi's Assam Budget speech of 1950-51 dtcd on p. 184.
An investment of £70 was claimcd for each planted acre in 1887, according to
Buchanan, The Development o f Capitalist Enterprise in India (131], 57.
Converted into rupees at the average exchange rate of the last two decades of the
century, the estimate roughly approximates Rs. 1000 per acre. This appears to
be a fairly correct estimate, valid at least up to the early 'twenties of our century.
In 1923, the book value of the Assam Co.'s properties, inclusive of 12,000
planted acres, were revised at £754,070. This means that the company's
investment per planted acre was valued at £63, i.e. around Rs. 900, having
assumed zero value for company-held wastelands.
The estimates of railway investments have been worked out from available data
on annual capital outlay and railway mileage for our relevant period in
Administrative Report on the Railways in India for the Calendar Year ¡90*1 [71],
22-23, 32-51, 179, 199-200, 231, 237-8 and 248 ; History o f Indian Railways
Constructed and the Progress upto 31st March 1918 [72], 153-5 and 178-9. For
the portion of Eastern Bengal Railway in Assam, the construction cost roughly
averaged Rs. 1.6 lakh per mile ; for the portion of the Assam Bengal Railways,
Rs. 1.9 lakh per mile. For the minor railways, the avcnigc construction cost per
mile varied from Rs. 24,000 in the case of the Tezpur-Balipara Light Railway
(narrow-gauge) to Rs. 1.2 lakh in the case cf the Dibru-Sadiya Railway. Tea
acreage figures are called from Statistical Tables for British India, 13th Issue
[ 112] and subsequent issues for other yean.
Investment figures for coal and petroleum are from Imperial Gazetteer o f India
[102], VI - 70-71. For saw mills our estimate is based on relevant data in
Financial and Commercial Statistics of British India for the Year 1899, 6th Issue
[110]. According to the latter source, the number of telegraph signalling offices
increased from 10 during 1870-74 to 114 in 1897-98 in the then Assam
Division.
Antrobus [118], 113-4. About the origins of the Jorehaut Tea Company, ibid.,
110.
9. Among such early planters may be mentioned J.B. Barrie, Civil Surgeon of
Tezpur and S.O. Hannay, Commandant of the Light Infantry Battalion. Ibid.,
314-5 and 395.
10. Assam Proc., Legis. Dept., Govt, of India, 1901, Nos. 48-102 [52]. According
to this source, unskilled average wage in Assam, outside the tea industry, slowly
rose from Rs. 4.28 during the period, 1875-76 to 1878-79, to Rs. 6.5 during the
period from 1894-95 to 1898-99.
11. Antrobus [118], 389 ; Proc. o f the Bengal Legis. Council. 1865-67 [33], 14.
12. Secy., Govt, of Bengal to Secy., Govt, of India, Home Dept., 3 Dec. 1866,
Assam Proc., Legis. Dept., Govt, of Bengal, August 1867, No. 15 [51]; Assam
Proc., Legis. Dept., Gove.of India, 1901, Nos. 48-102 |52].
13. The total settled area in Assam Proper, as of 1903-04, was 2,562 thousand acres,
according to Imperial Gazetteer of India (102], Vol. 91. As of 1901, the total area
in the occupation of tea gardens amounted to 642,418 acres - of this 204,682
acres planted and 437,636 acres remaining implanted.
14. *Bengal Adm. Report, 1868-69 [41], 191. These figures for Assam Proper are
however stated to be incomplete.
15. The Hindoo Patriot [207], issues of 5 Feb. 1894, 30 March 1894 and 9 April
1894.
16. In 1901, the plantations of Assam Proper employed 289,676 permanent workers
and an average 17,743 temporary workers on a daily basis. Agricultural Statistics
o f British India, Vol. 17 [109]. The number of local recruits is from Allen,
Assam Prov. District Gazetteers [101], Vol. V-81 and 141.
17. Wastage through high labour mortality and desertions was considerable, - Report
o f the Labour Enquiry Committee, 1906 [56], Ch. 3-13. The total number of
immigrant labour is estimated from annual immigration figures in the Bengal
Admn. Reports up to 1873-74 [41] and Annual Reports on Inland Emigration,
1878 to 1914-15 [55].
18. Commissioner of Assam to Secy., Govt, of Bengal, 21 March 1867, Assam
Proc., Legis Dept., Govt, of Bengal, August 1867, No. 15 [51] ; Antrobus
[118],389.
19. Administrative Report on the Railways...[71], 22-248 ; History o f Indian
Railways...[72], 153-5 and 178-9 ; For quote, ibid., 248.
20. Bengal Admn. Report, 1871-72 [41], 140 ; Bengal Admn. Report, 1872-73 [41],
12 Assam Proc., Revenue Agriculture and Commerce Dept., Dec. No. 11 [49];
Assam Admn. Report, 1893-94 [39], v.
21. Estimated from data in Census of India, \SS\, Assam Report [104], 29.
22. An Account o f the Province o f Assam.. .[40], 20 and 129 ; Eastern Bengal and
Assam Admn. Report, 1905-06 [42], 78 ; Imperial Gazetteer o f India [102], Vol.
VI, 40-41.
23. Quote from Antrobus [118], 240.
10
The Impact of the Bengal Renaissance
T h e B a c k g r o u n d O f T h e R e n a is sa n c e
The awakening of Bengal in the nineteenth century is a fascinating

subject on which quite a few scholarly works are available. The role
played by Bengal in the modem awakening of India was, with some
apparent exaggeration, compared by Susobhan Chandra Sarkar to "the
position occupied by Italy in the story of the European Renaissance".1
How this awakening—though limited and stunted from its very
inception—spilled over almost simultaneously to other neighbouring
parts of India remains however an untold story. An attempt is made
here to show how Assam came under its direct impact during the years
1825-75.
The Turko-Afghans and the Mughals had failed to conquer Assam,
and the East India Company too did not think in terms of occupying it
until 1824. Thus, throughout the medieval period Assamese society,
except for its exposure to the Vaishnava movement in the sixteenth
century, remained by and large cut-off from the mainstream of Indian
life. So much so that Rammohan Roy, who had lived for several years
in a town close to the Bengal-Assam border till 1814, was of the
opinion even after the British conquest of Assam, that it did not
constitute a part of the ancient land called Bharat.2 "India.. .called Bharat
is bounded on its south by the sea ; on the east partly by this sea, and
partly by ranges of mountains separating it from the ancient China, or
rather the countries now called Assam, CasSay and Arracans." The
backward features of Assam’s economy—the prevalence of labour rent
in lieu of a land-tax in cash or kind, the combination of agriculture and
weaving within the household irrespective of castes and status, a less
rigid and less differentiated caste system, the persistence of tribal ways
of life—all these were derived from this isolation. Besides, the opium-
addicted population that survived the prolonged civil war and the
Burmese occupation had dwindled down to less than one million, i.e.
to about a third of what it presumably was in the mid-eighteenth
THE IMPACT OF THE BENGAL RENAISSANCE 207
century. It is in this historical context that the impact of the Bengal

Renaissance on Assam and its significance have to be understood. It
was noted with surprise in Samachar Darpan, 30 July 1831, that
within seven years of coming under the British rule, some gentlemen
there had attained remarkable "success in their quest for knowledge".
The paper further commented:
...The distinguished persons of the Province of Assam maintain contact
with every affair in and about Bengal through the newspapers of this
Province. In no district of Bengal are found so many subscribers to our
newspapers as are found amongst the people of Assam. Moreover,
while from about half the districts of Bengal no letter is sent and
appears in newspapers, hardly a week passes without a letter being sent
from Assam to us or to other newspaper editors of this Province (ibid;
translation ours).
This is how a beginning was made in the awakening of Assam. Such
Bengali periodicals as Samachar Darpan, Samachar Chandrika and later,
Masik Patrika (1854-58) had a circulation in Assam, side by side with
the first Assamese periodical—Arunoday (1846-83) which used to be
published by the American Baptist missionaries from Sibsagar. The
two sister languages had and still have a common script, with a slight
variation in two letters only.
T he S eeds O f T he R enaissance : 1825-40
Two brothers—Haliram Dhekial Phukkan (1802-32) and Juggoram

Khargharia Phukkan (1805-38) were the forerunners of the awakening
in Assam. During the years of the Burmese occupation they had taken
refuge in the Bengal district of Rangpur. In April 1825, after the
Burmese troops were driven out, Haliram was appointed as a Saristadar
in the Collectorate of Guwahati. In February 1832 he was promoted to
the post of Assistant Magistrate with a pay of rupees two hundred and
thirty per month—a rare opening for an Indian in those days. The
Acting Agent to the Governor-General in Northeast India writing to the
Chief Secretary to the Government at Fort William on 21 February
1832, spoke highly of him as follows :
The individual in question stood high in the confidence of Mr. Scott,
and is a man of large property and extended information and possesses
some literary celebrity—he has visited Bengal and Hindoostan and has
paid particular attention to the European system of jurisprudence and
forms of Government regarding which he entertains liberal opinions. He
also possesses some knowledge of our arts and sciences.3
Another British administrator, Colonel White, also wrote to his
superior in 1832.
I should think you might derive much information from him, he is
certainly clever in revenue business and enters readily into the ideal of
2 08 MEDIEVAL AND EARLY COLONIAL ASSAM
Europeans. I should think he might afford great assistance in settling

Durrang under European control, at the same time I do not mean to hold
him out as a man of integrity. He had had no experience whatever in
Fauzdari business, less regards the judicial business.4
Why his integrity was in doubt is not known, but there were surely no
two opinions about Haliram's adaptability to western ideas of
government.
Well-versed in Sanskrit and Bengali besides his mother-tongue,
Haliram had no knowledge of English. It was but natural that, during
his short stay in Calcutta around 1829, his sympathies as a devout
Brahman were on the side of Radhakanta Dev and the Dharma Sabha.
But like the latter he, too, was not a reactionary out and o ut We find
him supporting the cause of female education through his letter
published anonymously in Samachar Darpant5. However, his most
important contribution was a history-cum-gazetteef of Assam, written
and published in Bengali at his own cost for free distribution amongst
scholars. In four parts this book, Asam-Buranji, was published in
1829. It was taken notice of by the then Bengali Press and was
favourably reviewed by Tarachand Chakravarti in India Gazette.6
Incidentally, it may be added that Asam-Buranji was the first printed
history of the region in any language and was also the first original
historical work to be published in Bengali.7
Juggoram's appreciation Of modem western culture was more
positive. He had been taught Persian and Arabic in his boyhood,
besides other languages. He learnt English during his stay, probably
from 1827 to 1829 in Calcutta, and he came in close contact with
Rammohan whom he accepted as his religious mentor.® Like his
master, he too, had a knowledge of the Tibetan (Bhot) language.
In a letter published in Samachar Darpan, 9 July 1831, Juggoram
congratulated the Government of India for abolishing the Suttee and
respectfully referred to Rammohan as 'great with wisdom' (mahapravin)
while, at the same time, ridiculing the orthodox Brdhmans as living on
idol-mongering. In another letter published in the Same periodical on
19 May 1832, he suggested popularization of Hindustani in the
Bengali script. He even contemplated writing a Hindustani primer in
four parts, modelled on a contemporary work of Dr, Gilchrist published
in 1809. The project however remained incomplete. He served the new
administration first as a Superintendent of Police in Darrang and,
thereafter, as a Seristadar and a Sadar-Amin at Guwahati during the
1830s.
Juggoram's connections with Rammohan and the demonstration
effect of Young Bengal upon him are corroborated by an account of his
personality in Col, White’s Historical Miscellany, Vol. I [29]. The

relevant extract is reproduced below:
The presenf Phookan, a young man named Jaggoo Ram is Saristalar of the
Revenue Court at Gowahatty. He is talented but dees not possess, I think, much
principle. He has a tolerable knowledge of the English language, which he reads
and writes, and is, so far as I know, the only Assamese so gifted. He makes no
objection to dinp with Europeans and eats and drinks freely of what is put before
him—beaf and veal not excepted... He procures a variety of wines and European
delicacies from Calcutta which as a man of large property, independent of his
official salary, he can well afford to do, and his house at Gowahatty is amply
furnished with chain, tables, carpets, an organ, art glass lustres and other articles
of English furniture. Jaggoo Ram is in every sense of the term a bonvivant. ..and
suffers very acutely from the liver complaint brought on by good living. He was
educated at Calcutta and a friend o f the Late Rammohan Roy.
Juggoram took initiative along with others in getting a Bengali
Vernacular School end a Government English School established at
Guwahati in 1835. Towards the latter, he contributed a sum of one
thousand rupees. Unfortunately, from this time onward Assamese was
pushed aside in all local schools and courts to make room for Bengali
as the only recognized vernacular of Assam. However, in 1836 the
American Bapist Mission established a painting press—the first-ever in
Assam—to undertake the publication of books in Assamese. The first
printed book in Assamese, of course, was a translation of the Bible by
Atmaram Sharma published from Seram pore in 1813. Thus, seeds were
sown that were to germinate in due course.
T he G ermination : 1840-60
By the end of the 1830s the British administration of Assam

became stabilized and consolidated through the formal end of the
Rajah's reign and the suppression of a series of local revolts. Labour
rent paid to the Government was progressively replaced by a money tax
on land. The institution of slavery which was not limited in Assam to
domestic slavery alone was frowned upon, but tolerated until its final
abolition in 1843.9 One Radhanath Kataki, a Fauzdari Mohrer, showed
great enthusiasm in implementing the law for liberation of slaves and
bondsmen. He induced them to address petitions to the authorities and,
then, helped expedite their disposal. Naturally, it was the Brahmans ai>d
the Mahantas whq were most vocal in their protest against this
measure, since they had so long depended on their slaves and bondsmen
for cultivation of their devottar and brahmottar farms. In the district of
Kamrup, once they assembled together and subsmitted a bunch of 1000
petitions to allow tljem retain their slaves.
Arunoday started its publication in January 1846. The Assam

Baptist Association was formed in 1851. The tea industry and the
steamer service on the Brahmaputra had come to stay. By then it was
clear that Assam was going to be developed as an agricultural estate of
tea-drinking Britain. The monopoly sale of abkari opium for
augmenting the revenue was introduced. The national rebellion of 1857
did not pass off without trouble in Assam under the circumstances. The
Assamese society was very much dominated during this period by two
eminent personalities —Anandaram Dhekial Phukan (1829-1859) the
son of Haliram, and Maniram Dewan (1806-1858). The latter was an
adviser of the ex-Rajah and an enterprising fortune-seeker.
Anandaram was at the Hindu College of Calcutta during the years
1841-44. Here, he was under the deep influence of his teacher
Ramchandra Mitra. But because of ill health Anandaram had to leave
his studies unfinished to return to Guwahati in January 1845 and join
government service in due course. In those days a boat used to take
about a month in its journey from Guwahati to Calcutta and about
double the time while making a return journey.
Anandaram was fortunate to be in Calcutta again in connection
with official business during the years 1850-52. He utilized his stay
there fully by regularly visiting the Metcalfe Hall Library, establishing
contacts with elite circles and undertaking the printing of his own
writings, for which purpose he purchased and set up a press in
Calcutta. He became a member of the Bethune Society, established in
1851, which was devoted to the cause of female education, and got
himself acquainted with its secretary, Pearichand Mitra. Anandaram was
present in a meeting of the Society in January 1852, where Dr.
Suryakumar Chakravarti had presented a paper. It may be noted that
this connection was maintained even after his return to Assam, through
his subscription to Masik Patrika which was edited by Mitra.
During the years 1850-52, Anandaram used to publish from
Calcutta a series of law digests in Bengali, in which case-law decisions
of the Sadar Dewani and Nizamat Adalat were reported. Some of these
found mention under items numbered 267 and 270 in Reverend J.
Long's A Descriptive Catalogue o f Bengali Works (Calcutta, 1855),
although their compiler remained anonymous. Anandaram's other
contribution to Bengali prose literature was a voluminous treatise on
law and political philosophy (Notes on Laws o f Bengal, Vol. 1)
published in 1855. Modelled on Blacktone's commentary on English
Law Digest, this book dealt with such topics as principles of morality
and law, human rights, liberty of the person and master-servant
relations.10 His was undoubtedly a pioneering effort towards the

creation of a juridical and political literature in Bengali.
More important however was his contribution towards the cause of
the restoration of the Assamese language to its rightful place in local
schools and courts. He had to carry on a life-long struggle, along with
the American Baptist Missionaries, for this cause. In 1849 he brought
out an Assamese primer—Asamiya Larar Mitra—for the benefit of
Assamese children. In 1853, in course of a memorandum submitted to
A J.M . Mills, he urged the Government to re-recognize the Assamese
language and prohibit opium. He also strongly opposed the idea of
introducing a permanent settlement in Assam.11 In 1855 he published
and distributed one hundred copies of his English pamphlet, A Few
Remarks on the Assamese Language and on Vernacular Education in
Assam.
His zeal was not limited to the cause of language alone. While at
Nowgong, during the years 1857-59, he started the Jnan-Pradayini
Sabha with the help of bis close associate Gunabhiram Barua (1837-
94). This society used to meet every week to hold discussions. He
imparted education to his wife and daughter and believed that women
could be liberated only through education. Committed to modernization
as he was, he dreamt of bright days for Assam "... when jungles will
be replaced by flower-gardens, canoes oh the rivers will be replaced by
steam-ships, bamboo cottages will be replaced by brick-structures (and)
thousands of schools, societies of learning and hospitals will become
houses of rescue for the rural poor...”12 Thus, Anandaram truly
represented the spirit of the Bengal Renaissance which he carried with
him from Calcutta to Assam. His premature death at the age of thirty
was a great loss to the cause.
Maniram Dewan, on the other hand, actually belonged to the
generation of Anandaram’s father, but lived long enough to be his
contemporary. Maniram had perhaps not much of an erudition, but had
a deep understanding of the realities of Assam's situation and a
thorough acquaintance with the old Assamese chronicle literature. He
himself compiled an interesting historical work in Assamese under the
title Buranji-viveka ratna, which is yet to be published. His two
monographs on the art of gold-washing in Assam rivers and on the
cultivation of Assam silk were published in English translation in two
leading contemporary learned journals of Calcutta.13 He knew Bengali
and Sanskrit, but no English.
Maniram's links with the Bengal Renaissance were therefore rather
tenuous. These were limited to his subscription to Samachar Darpan
and to his modest donations towards the printing of more than one
Assamese publication.14 As he had his roots in the old ways of life, he

greatly resented the loss of slaves and the end of the dynastic reign of
the Ahoms. In a forceful petition submitted to Mills in 1853, he
argued:
The abolition of old customs and establishment in their stead of Courts
and unjust taxation ; secondly, the introduction of opium in the District
for the gratification of an opium-eating people, who are daily becoming
more unfit for agricultural pursuits ; thirdly, the making of this
Province khas and discontinuing the poojahs at Kamakhya in
consequence of which the country has become subject to various
calamities... Under these several inflictions, the population of Assam is
becoming daily more miserable. In proof of this, permit us to bring
forward the fact that during the days of the Boorah Gohain and down
even to the time of Mr. Scott, there were in every village two, three,
four or five rspectable ryots possessing granaries filled with grain. But
in these days, in the midst of 100 villages it will be difficult to discover
a couple of such ryots...15.
Whatever might be the motive behind his indictments, he could rightly
pinpoint some of the weak sides of the unpopular British
administration. He strongly advocated the prohibition of opium that
had become the scourge of Assam and recommended the introduction of
an inexpensive Panchayati system of justice as well as of village
schools, alongside the restoration of native rule under British
protection.
Maniram should not be judged by his revivalist ideology alone,
nor should he be taken as a consistent fighter against British
colonialism. There is no doubt however that his early collaboration
with the British made him only increasingly bitter against them. As
early as 23 February 1838, Jenkins noted in his tour diary :
...W as waited upon by Muneeram, the Rajah's late Revenue Saristadar
and ours. I say 'late' because he has officially $iven in his resignation
but is supposed to be still the Rajah's great adviser. I took the
opportunity of being alone for a while to tell him he had got a very bad
name throughout the country. He immediately replied, if you enquire
you will know who is to blame for the state o f the country.
Notwithstanding this my information leads me to have little doubt but
he is the Rajah's Counsellor in a very crooked line of policy...16.
Mills, too, reacted sharply to the petition of Maniram and, in his
report, described him as intelligent but untrustworhy. With this
background, it was but natural that Maniram would become involved
in the subsequent unrest in Assam at the time of the 1857 Rebellion.
He was arrested in Calcutta and brought down to Assam to be tried and
executed on 26 February 1858. Whatever his ideology might have been
it is this anti-imperialist image of his that lives in the memory of the
THE IMPACT OF THE BENGAL RENAISSANCE 2 13
people—in folk-songs and modem patriotic literature. Maniram was

indeed a bridge between the old and the new.
The other important field where Maniram made a notable
contribution was the nascent tea industry. He was taken into service in
1839 as the Dewan or Land Agent at the Assam Company's
headquarters in Assam at a place called Nazira. The £act that his salary,
Rs. 200 per month, was higher than that paid to a majority of its
European employees was itself an indication of the value of his
service. One of the Company Directors, William Prinsep, on his visit
to the gardens in 1841, said :
I find the Native Department of the office in the most beneficial state
under the excellent direction of Muneeram, whose intelligence and
activity is of greatest value to our establishment There is no question
regarding expenditure or return which he is not ready to answer from
Book in the m ost satisfactory manner. The marts which he is
establishing at and around our location will, he declares, become of
considerable importance. The increased intercourse with the people of
the Company which it naturally leads to will give them greater
confidence in us, and will raise still higher the good name we have
already established.17
The Chairman of the Company, in the Annual Report of 1841-42,
credited Maniram with the opening of new gardens and raising profits
of the Company.18 However, he had to quit his post by 1844 or so, and
by 1850 he developed two small proprietory tea gardens of his own. It
may be noted here that while the European planters got fee-simple
grants of land from the Government, Maniram had to develop his
gardens without any such concessions whatsoever. These were
confiscated to the Government after he was sentenced to death for high
treason, perhaps at the suggestion of the European planters. Thus ended
an entrepreneurial career, which was objectively progressive, though
not subjectively so 'because of an attachment to the lost privileges of
the old regime.
T he H a rv est Of T h e R e n a is s a n c e : 1860-75
Our focus on four leading personalities of the Assamese society

during the early phase of the Bengal Renaissance has indicated the
extent of their respective commitments to the unfolding process of
westernisation. Three influences simultaneously acted upon them : (i)
the spread of British administration and its associated infrastructure, (ii)
the cultural activities of the Christian missionaries, particularly the
American Baptists and (iii) the direct and indirect impact of the Bengal
Renaissance. By and large, it was through the latter two agencies that
filtered Western ideas could reach and be absorbed in Assam. It was
because of this reason that, despite a conflict of interests between the

immigrant Bengali and the indigeneous Assamese aspirants for jobs in
the administration, their mutual relations had not as yet been
embittered, in contrast to the subsequent situation of the twentieth
century. The Assamese language remained suppressed during the whole
period from 1836 to 1872. The residential towns that were developing
were full of imported Bengali Babus. Assamese children were, under
compulsion, taught Bengali as their vernacular. In response to the
challenge of this unenviable situation, there emerged a healthy
democratic movement which did not degcncrate-unlike in later times—
into narrow chauvinisn, during the nineteenth century.
Relatively to Bengal, the base of the renaissance was rather narrow,
no doubt Even as late as 1872 in Assam Proper, there were only three
local newspapers—none of them a daily; two published from Sibsagar
and one from Guwahati. There were only six English schools which
sent up candidates for the Entrance Examination of the Calcutta
University. O f the University’s 938 successful matriculates out of
2144 candidates in 1872, only four were from Assam Proper as against
eleven from Orissa. The performance of the First Arts Examination in
the same year was also disappointing, as can be seen from the
following table :
FIRST ARTS EXAMINATION, CALCUTTA UNIVERSITY, DECEMBER 1872
Presidency Pabia Cuttack Guwahati

College College High High
Calciata (Bihar) School School
(Bengal) Orissa) (Assam)
CmdkUle* 160 23 5 5
Pissed 81 11 1 nil
SOURCE : Bengal Administrative Report, 1972 [41], 436.
Nevertheless in the context of Assam's small population and belated

British contacts, whatever advance was made was not insignificant in
the colonial context. Assamese was once more recognized as a
language and admitted into the schools and law courts of Assam in
1873. In 1874, Assam was separated from the Bengal Presidency and
made a Chief Commissioner's Province.
Of the four personalities discussed above, three were Brahmans
hailing from a single rich landowning family and one was a Kalita
landowner, who claimed himself to be of Kayastha origin. Another
THE IMPACT OF THE BENGAL RENAISSANCE 2 15
distinguished person of the period was Munsi Kefayatullah (?— 1868)

who was a Sadar-Amin at Guwahati. His Kris hi Darpan—a manual of
agriculture and farming in Bengali—was published in 1853 for the
benefit of the local people. He also published two short articles in the
Assamese periodical Arunoday. There was an All-Assam Agricultural
Exhibition at Tezpur in December 1866 which was attended, amongst
others, by Kefayatullah as well. A mention may be made also of Nidhi
L.Farwell, an Assamese Christian convert and missionary whose
writings were frequendy published in Arunoday.19
The most important personality emerging as the leader of the
'renaissance' after Anandaram was, however, Gunabhiram Barua about
whom a brief reference has already been made. Gunabhiram's education
at the Kalutola Branch School and the Presidency College of Calcutta
during the years 1850-57 was financed by Anandaram. The forma-was
attracted towards the Brahmo Samaj even before 1857, but was
formally initiated to this new faith in 1869 during his sojourn at
Dhubri. By then a circle of Assamese adherents of the Brahmo Samaj
had emerged. One of them was Padmahas Goswami (1829-79) o f
Jakhalabandha Satra, Nowgong. He published books in Assamese to
popularize the Brahmo Movement.20
Iswarchandra Vidyasagar's campaign in Bengal against child
marriage and his advocacy of widow re-marriage in the 1850s must
have had made a deep impression on young Gunabhiram when he was
in Calcutta. His keen interest in widow re-marriage was reflected in his
anonymous articles published in Arunoday in the late 1850s. He
himself entered into wedlock with a widow in April 1870 and got the
marriage registered under Act III in December 1872. Of his literary
works, Ramnavami Natak , a social drama with a message, was written
in 1857-58 and was published from Calcutta in book form in 1870.
Other books followed one after another.21 In fact, the three decades
since 1860 were dominated by his personality, together with that of
Hemchandra Barua (1835-96), a confirmed atheist But we (Jo not intend
to stretch much beyond 1857 here for details. After retirement,
Gunabhiram made Calcutta his home where he carried on his literary
activities.
From the late 1850s onwards, the new awakening was becoming
increasingly wider than before. In 1857 a Society, also called Jnan-
Pradayini Sabha, was formed in Upper Assam, which held regular
meetings on Sundays. It had 50 to 60 members of whom 17 to 18
regularly attended. Some of its members belonged to far-flung places
like Golaghat, Janjee, Jorhat, Dhakuakhana and Dibrugarh.22 Still
earlier at the close of 1855, the Asam Desh Hitaishini Sabha was
formed at Sibsagar for holding weekly study circles on every Saturday.

In September 1856 Poomananda Sharma Deka, a Mohrer in the
Criminal Court, was its secretary. He issued a circular urging upon the
people to represent their grievances to Lt.-Govemor Halliday.23 At the
same time, we also find Hemchandra Barua expressing himself
anonymously against polygamy through the local press.24
The Assamese public opinion was being increasingly focused on
three social evils of the day^the plight of high caste Hindu widows,
polygamy and the widespread addiction to opium. At the same time, in
literature we find the adaptation of blank verse, not directly from
English, but on the model set by Michael Madhusudan Datta in
Bengali. The urge of the Assamese student generation of those days for
westernisation and their passionate appreciation of the contemporary
Bengal Renaissance can be best judged from the letter of a student of
the Sibsagar Government School, dated 5 August 1861, published in
the local press.25 He wrote :
... Oh I When will the people of our Assam be civilized !
... People of our country do not send their sons to schools out of the fear
that they might lose their caste through reading English... Look, what progress
has been achieved in neighbouring Bengal I "Young Bengal", i.e., the young
Bengalees are very civilized and well-educated. They have been liberated from this
"superstition" Le., untrue illusions, long ago. Almighty God ! when will you
liberate this unhappy country of Assam from this unhappy situation ?
(Translation ours).
The harvest that was reaped even at the peak of the 'Assam
Renaissance’ was however a poor and modest one. This wag because
the growth of an Assamese middle class was extremely limited under
the given colonial conditions of a dualistic plantation economy.
N otes
1. Sen, Notes on the Bengal Renaissance [186], 1. For limitations of the concept of
"Bengal renaissance" see Ghose, "A critique of Bengal renaissance", Frontier,
Vol. 4 [150], 11-14.
2. Ram Mohan Roy on Indian Economy, Ed. Sarkar [185], vii.
3. Foreign Pol. Proc. [35], 19 March 1832, No. 81,1-9.

4. White to Agent to Governor-General, Jorehat, 28 May 1832 in Foreign Pol.

Proc. [35], 23 July 1832, No. 70.
5. See editorial comment, Samachar Darpan [214], 25 August 1832.
6. This review was reproduced in Asiatic Journal or Monthly Register... Vol. 2

[205] May-August 1830.
7. dhekial-Phukkan, Asam Buranji [22]. Complete in four parts. The last three
pàrts were not known until rediscovered by J.M. Bhattacharya in the personal
library of late Iswarchandra Vidyasagar.
8. White, Historical Miscellany, VoL 1 [29]. For other details about Juggoram,
Bàrua, Anandaram Dhekial Phukanar Jivan Charitra [194].
9. Sàdar-Aminar Almajivani [196], 40.
10. Dkeldal-Phukan, Ain O Vyabastha Samgraha : Notes on Laws o f Bengal [204].

Yèars back, I saw a copy of this book in the library of the Kamrup Anusandhan
Simiti at GuwahatL But later the book could not be traced there or in any other
library.
11. Mills, Report on the Province o f Assam [66], appendix.
12. Dhekial-Phukan, Inglandar Vivaran’, Arunoday, VoL 2, April 1847 [200], trans,
ours.
13. "Native account of washing gold in AssamH, JASB, Vol. 7, July 1838 [86] and
'On the Mizanguree silk of Assam and plants whereon the worm feeds'.
Transactions o f Agricultural and Horticultural Society o f India, Vol. 7,1840,
[87]; 97-100.
14. Miniram contributed Rs. 101 to Arunoday and Rs. 20 towards the printing 90H
of an Assamese primer, Asamiya Larar Mitra. — Sharma, Maniram Dewan
[203].
15. Mills, Report...[66], appendix. As a political document representing the

grievances of a dispossessed gentry, pre-dating the revolts of 1857, this petition
is of unique value.
16. Jenkins, Journals o f a Tour o f Upper Assam 1838 [39], 47.
17. Quote from Antrobus, A History o f the Assam Company [118], 343-4.
18. IbiA, 323 and 343-4.
19. For this paragraph, Arunoday [209], VoL 9, May 1854 ; Voi 16, January 1861 ;
Vol. 22, January 1867 and Vol. 23, March 1868. Krishi Darpan (Calcutta, 1853)
by Munsi Kefayatullah finds a mention in Long, A Descriptive Catalogue o f
Bengali Works [169]. The 80-page book, was an adaptation of Frenwick’s book
on gardening in Urdu.
2 18 MEDIEVAL AND EARLY COLONIAL ASSAM
20. Brahmadharma No. Kak Bole (Dacca, 1P74) ; Brahmadharmar Lakshan (Guwahad,
1873) ; P ady a mala (2nd end., Nowgong, 1875) ; Asamiya Larar Sikshasar
(Calcutta, 1874). All were thin booklets.
21. For example, Larapulhi (Calcutta, 1874) and Asam Buranji (Calcutta, 1876).
rBharat-bilap,t a poem, was written by him on the death of Vidyasagar.
22. Arunoday Vol. 12, Oct. 1857 [209), 158-9.
23. Arunoday, Vol. 11, January 1856 ; ibid. 1856 [209J.
24. Ibid., April 1857. Hemchandra published in Assamese agrammar in 1860 and a
primer in 1873. His greatest work was a dictionary which waspublished
posthumously. Amongst his works were two satirical plays, Bahire Rangchang
B hilari Kovabhaturi (Guwahati, 1876) and Kaniar Kirion (1861), both written to
expose certain social evils of the day.
25. Arunoday, Vol. 16, August 1861 [209]. At this time, Nilmani Ganguli was the
headmaster of this school which was founded in 1841.
11
Agrarian Structures in The Late
Nineteenth Century
An attempt will be made here to outline the evolution of the ryotwari

land settlement in post-annexation Assam Proper and, given the
objectives of the colonial rule, also to examine what impact on the
restructuring of the social classes it had. The purpose is to throw light
on the dynamics, if any, of the nineteenth century Assamese society,
which was then undergoing a process of adaptation to imperial
priorities. Yet another purpose of this exercise is to analyse the
frustrations that led to a great peasant upsurge in 1893-94, a detailed
study of which is still awaited.
Assam Proper in our period had an area of twenty thousand square
miles or so—all this situated in a thinly-populated alluvial plain, of
which no more than 4,000 square miles were made of low hills (Table
11' 1). By the close of our period less than twenty p a - cent of this area
was found settled for revenue; the area put under crops was even less—
only about fourteen per cent. The availability of vast tracts of
cultivable wastelands remained all along an important feature of the
agrarian economy. The present study, therefore, may be of some
relevance in understanding the process of change in all those regions
where similar conditions of land-abundance and vestiges of tribalism
persisted long because of historical reasons.
G enesis O f T he L and R ev en u e S ystem
Socio-Historical Roots
At the time of its annexation by the British in 1826, the public
revenue system of Assam Proper was found to be organized not on the
basis of unit-wise taxation of the land area in occupation, but taxation
of the adult male population on a personal basis. Realized revenue
consisted primarily of labour-rent and, only in some cases, of rent in

kind or a cash compensation (poll tax) in lieu of i t There was a
hierarchy of officers for managing and utilizing the militia or
manpower pool which consisted of the entire adult male population.
These militiamen enjoyed usufruct of about three acres of wet rice
lands per head. When anybody was exempted from the obligation of
contributing his labour or produce share, he had to pay a poll tax in
cash. When one held wet rice lands in excess of the prescribed quota,
then also he had to pay a cash levy for the surplus land.1
TABLE 11.1
Area and Population o f Assam Proper
Area in Density
District sqm. Population per sqm.
(ascf — (ascf
1901) 1872 1881 1891 1901 1901)
Kamiup 3,858 561,681 644,960 634,249 589,187 153
Darrang 3,418 235,720 273,012 307,440 337313 99
Nowgong 3,843 260,238 314,893 347,307 261,160 68
Sibsagar 4,996 317,799 392,545 480,659 597,969 120
Lakhimpur 4,529 121,267 179,893 254,053 371396 88
Total 20,644 1,496,705 1,805,303 2,023,708 2,157,025 106
SOURCE : East Bengal and Assam Administration Report 1905-06 [42], 84-
87. Pre-1901 figures given here do not necessarily tally with those in the original
Census Reports, because of subsequent official revision. Also see Imperial
Gazetteer o f India [104], VI-120.
NOTE : The faster rate of population growth in Sibsagar and Lakhimpur was
largely due to continuous immigration in the wake of the tea industry and, also,
the absence of any lingering epidemic. The other districts suffered from the black
fever epidemic to a varying extent between 1888 and 1901.
Assam Proper together with Goalpara, constituted the Brahmaputra Valley—
the homeland of the Assamese. Coming under British rule in 1765, Goalpara
was mostly under the permanent settlement during our period. Only a small
%
portion of the district, Eastern Duars, was under the ryotwari settlement.
Goalpara is not covered here.
No rent was generally claimed by the State before the nineteenth

century on account of any other categories of land in private
possession. Homestead and garden lands in one’s possession were
clearly deemed as private property, subject to a degree of clan control.
The rest of cultivable lands were so abundant in supply and inferior
AGRARIAN STRUCTURES IN THE LATE NINETEENTH CENTURY 221
that the question of private property rights over these did not generally
arise. In pre-British times, one could occupy any amount of such lands
for rent-free seasonal cultivation. Otherwise, these remained common
grazing grounds. For the maintenance of the King, his officers and the
priests there were privileged farms worked by assigned militiamen
and/or private serfs and slaves. These were indeed feudal estates in a
largely semi-tribal, semi-feudal society.2
Given the policies and perspectives of British colonialization, such
a mode of revenue collection and property structure needed to be
changed. By 1840 the mode of collection was fully monetized and put
on a territorial footing. In general, public claims to personal labour and
produce-share were given up and, in their place, an area-specific land
tax payable in cash by individual landholders was introduced. In 1843
the institution of slavery was abolished and slaves liberated. The Usury
Laws Repeal Act, 1855, came handy for courts to uphold contractual
rates of interest. These early steps towards monetization put the
Assamese peasantry under severe strain, since the marketing of farm
output remained difficult till the middle decades of the nineteenth
century. Cash was difficult to obtain. Peasants had to sell a
considerable part of their output to meet the revenue demand, while
their consumption-oriented petty mode of production persisted. Some
features of tribalism, such as rotation of land, cooperative labour forms
and slash-and-bum methods continued to coexist with the use of the
plough in agriculture. Spinning and weaving also continued to be
largely combined with agriculture at the household level. In short,
despite a new bourgeois concept of property rights imposed from
above, ‘the magic touch of property’ was nowhere to be seen in any
form.
The rule of property that was envisaged for Assam Proper was not
modelled on the Bengal system of Cornwallis. By 1840 the latter had
already fallen into disrepute, and the official thinking was no longer in
favour of a permanent settlement with middlemen. The Government
reserved to itself the proprietory right in all lands and allowed their
occupants only occupancy rights which were deemed permanent,
heritable and transferable, subject to a regular tax payment. An
exception was made only in the case of some revenue-free landlord
holdings, which were found to have been created under erstwhile royal
charters on a perpetual basis. These—all of them were religious
endowments—survived the resumption proceedings of 1834-60 and
remained perpetually revenue-free (la-khiraj) leases with full proprietary
rights. Fee-simple or revenue-free grants of wastelands, made inter alia
during 1862-76 with a view to encouraging tea cultivation, were also
vested with full proprietory rights. In all other cases, the State
remained in theory the proprietor; its land revenue demand represented
the rent and those, including religious institutions and tea companies,
who paid this rent were its Khas ryots. This was clearly a form of what
was known as a ryotwari settlement.3
During the initial years of transition, somewhat chaotic conditions
had prevailed in the matter of land revenue settlement Each district was
divided into several fiscal divisions, called parganahs and mauzas.
Rents were collected from the landholding ryots of each such division
through an officer styled as Chaudhury, Patgiri, Mauzadar or Bishaya,
all of whom used to be appointed by the Government on a short-term
basis. This officer got assistance from a village accountant styled as
Patwari, Thakuria or Kakati. In general, ryots’ lands were measured
annually or from time to time, and the public assessment was fixed
uniformly for a term extending from one to five years. The officer in
charge of the fiscal division had also the same tenure. He was allowed a
percentage commission to cover his remuneration and incidental
expenses. Not being salaried, he was more a revenue farmer or
contractor than a regular public servant. He was permitted to
appropriate any increase in the assessment arising out of extended
cultivation, just as he was held responsible also for any decrease.4
“This half-khas and half-farming system,” as A.J. Moffat Mills, Judge
of the Sadar Diwani and Nizamat Adalat, Calcutta found it in 1854,
needed thorough reforms, particularly in the matter of tenure. Mills
wanted the next land settlement to be on a twenty - year basis with the
proviso that the commissioner, in special cases, could reduce the
period.5
Decennial settlements, first introduced under the Settlement Rules
of 1870 in partial response to Mills, remained more an exception than
the rule until 1883. The prevailing system of short leases till then
continued to cause instability of interest in land and oppression of the
ryots by their revenue officers. The risks of collection were great, but
the commission allowed to the revenue officer was small.
Consequently, he was driven “to exact the uttermost farthing from the
ryots.” His lease was of short duration, his tenure of office was
insecure and he was, therefore, not interested in keeping up cultivation
to the utmost This hampered expansion of the cultivated acreage.6
Cultivation was further affected by the devastating black fever
(kalaazar) epidemic that swept over the three western districts of Assam
Proper during the years 1*888-1901. High mortality from the black
fever was first noticed in the Tarai region of the Garo Hills in 1882. It
spread gradually through the then Goalpara Subdivision, entered the
Soutn Bank portion of Kamrup in 1888 and reached Nowgong by

1891. Over the decade 1891-1901 the decrease of population was seven
per cent and twentyfive per cent respectively, in the former districts of
Kamrup and Nowgong, and nine per cent in the Mangaldai Subdivision
i.e., present Darrang.
There was chaos in the matter of defining the nature and extent of
the land rights conferred on the ryots. The legacy of such rights,
notwithstanding the fact of occasional sales of certain types of land
even in pre-British and early British times, was ill-understood. In 1849
Francis Jenkins, Commissioner of Assam, declared that the ryots had
indeed proprietory right in their lands of all descriptions. In 1867 the
Bengal Government was not prepared to endorse this declaration.
Nevertheless, under the Settiement Rules of 1870—these had no force
of law—ryots’ land transfer rights were expressly recognized in all
cases of decennial leases, subject to registration of such transfers. But
such rights were denied in the case of leases for a shorter period. This
kind of discrimination was not however tenable. Local officers found in
1871 that the rights and interests of not only the decennially settled,
but also of the annually settled ryots were in practice recognized as
heritable and transferable.7 In 1879 W.W. Hunter summed up the
position as follow s:
According to local usage and custom, which has been confirmed by the
Courts, the tenant is held to have a right of occupancy in the land
covered by his lease, so long as he continues to pay the Government
revenue punctually. If, however, the land is required for public purposes,
the Government has the right of resumption upon making the tenant
compensation for any houses, crops, trees etc., on the land. The leases
are generally for a period of one year, and the right of transfer is tacitly
acknowledged. But holdings settled for a term of years are expressly
declared by the Assam Settlement Rules to be heritable and transferable
on condition of the transfer being registered.8
Impact o f New Ideology

It was in this context of the unsettled conditions of revenue
collection and ryotwari rights that Anandaram Dhekial-Phukan
submitted his famous memorandum in 1853 to A.J. Moffatt Mills,
who was commisioned to enquire into the Assam situation.9 Educated
at the Hindu College, and a government servant since 1847, Dhekial-
Phukan imbibed his political faith and ideas of progress largely from
what was known as the Young Bengal Movement. In his memorandum
to Mills, he admonished the British Government for providing Assam
with ‘the administration of an Asiatic Government rather than that of
enlightened England.’ Not yet losing his faith in the potentially

regenerative role of the British rule in India, he pointed o u t:
W e are further o f opinion, that the object o f the Providence in raising
up England to rule the destinies o f Assam , has n o t been duly and
p ro p erly fu lfilled . T h e general civ ilizatio n o f the country, the
introduction o f the arts and sciences o f Europe, the im provem ent o f the
civil and social state o f the people, and enlightenm ent o f their m inds,
are subjects which never hitherto appeared to have attracted the slightest
attention o f a Governm ent in every respect admirably qualified to effect
those im provem ents .10
Dhekial-Phukan had read Blackstone’s Commentaries on the Laws
o f England—an eighteenth-century work that was known to have had
an impact on Adam Smith. This acquaintance with Blackstone appears
to have influenced Dhekial-Phukan’s attitude to property and
authority.11 He too, upheld the economic importance of both small
properties and an ordered ranking of authority as a stable foundation to
all legal and rational governments.
In his view, the Cornwallis System that had brought in its wake
‘powerful and opulent’ zamindars with big properties in Bengal was
not to be emulated in Assam. ‘The preservation of the ancient
Ryotwari system in Assam and recognition of the Ryots’ rights as
proprietors of their respective holdings,’ he conceded, ‘is the greatest
boon which...the British Government has conferred on the country.’
Yet the actual working of this ryotwari system was, according to him,
‘far from being much favourable to the advancement of cultivation and
the general improvement of the country.’12
Why was it so ? Dhekial-Phukan had his answer. Revenue
settlements for short terms—generally for one year—lacked adequate
incentive for good management Assessments Used to be made without
an accurate survey and were often found oppressive. What seemed
therefore expedient to him for laying the foundation of progressive
improvements in agriculture was a long-tenri revenue settlement, so
that both the revenue officers and the ryots could have greater security
and interest in land. He suggested that the term of leases be extended to
twenty to twentyfive years ; that the assessment be fixed on an actual
survey of this entire period ; that at the expiry of each settlement, the
incumbent revenue officers be generally re-appointed ; and that these
officers be allowed, as a matter of incentive as before, to appropriate
any increase in the revenue yield which was entirely due to an
extension of cultivation during the lease period. Elaborating on the last
point, he further submitted that they should also be allowed ‘to let out
all the unoccupied and waste lands within their farms on such terms as
they may deem best conducive to their interests’—a measure which
AGRARIAN STRUCTURES IN T1 IE LATE NINETEENTH CENTURY 225
was likely to reclaim the vast waste lands. Dhekial-Phukan also

pleaded that all privileged tenures, made in favour of religious
institutions in the past, be retained since these essentially represented
endowments benefiting the public.13 It was his belief that the
functionaries and trustees who were misusing such endowments for
private gain could be stopped from doing so through public
supervision.
The implications and direction of all these arguments were clear. If
the ryots were oppressed, and if extension of cultivation was thereby
hampered uqder the current system, the revenue officers as such were
not to be blamed. There were—he believed—sufficient checks within
the system itself to keep them under control. For, every ryot in Assam
Proper ‘is the absolute master of his own lands, from which he is
never liable to be ousted until he relinquishes it out of his free will.’
Dhekial-Phukan continued to argue:
His liabilities too are ascertained under the immediate superintendence of
the public revenue authorities, and clearly laid dow n in the pottahs
issued to him under the seal and signature o f the collectors, so that any
attem pt at exaction is easily detected and restrained, and the native
officers o f collection can exercise no other control over the Ryots than
the mere collection of revenue .14
According to DhekiaJ-Phukan then, what was wrong with the sys
tem was not the prevailing mode of collection through revenue officers
who were mere contract-bound commission agents of quasi-official
status, but the short tenures of such contracts. The Chaudhuris,
Patgiris, Mauzadars and Bishayas and their assistants—the Patwaris,
Thakurias and Kakatis—they all represented a rural gentry that had
roots in the old regime. All of them had some landed properties. Given
due status and reorientation, they were expected to provide rural society
with men of some property whom the common ryots could look up to
as symbols of stability, authority and progress. This, though not spelt
out in so many words, appears to have been the logic behind Dhekial-
Phukan's stand. He wanted for this rural gentry a modest share of the
surplus that the State extracted from the peasantry. Only they were not
to be made hereditary and big proprietors like the Bengal zamindars. In
a note to the Commissioner of Assam in November 1855, Dhekial-
Phukan re-emphasized the need for a class of intermediaries intervening
between the Government and the ryots. He was then pleading for the
creation of some chamua properties in Nowgong with the belief that
landed middlemen alone could be expected to act for the general welfare.
This explains why he was so keen to see that the age-old privileged
tenures were not destroyed, but brought under close public
supervision.15
Harakanta Barua Sadar-Amin (1815-1902), who retired as a deputy

magistrate in 1876 shared with Dhekial-Phukan the same high-caste
and landed gentry background, but not the latter’s grounding in western
education. Sadar-Amin too, opposed the idea of a permanent zamindari
settlement and advised Mills in favour of a twenty-year settlement with
the revenue officers. He was however, more concerned with the
immediate interests of his own class rather than with an ideology of
general welfare.16 Dhekial-Phukan’s concern, on the contrary, stemmed
from his ideological position—his faith in property, liberty and a
ranking of authority as essential pre-requisites of social progress. He
would not leave the ryots’ property and liberty at the mercy of the
revenue officers. For he had personal knowledge of what abuse such
officers could have made of their authority with a view to exploiting
the ryots. Sadar-Amin was of the opinion that the highest punishment
for oppression on the part of a revenue officer should be only a heavy
fine and not his dismissal- But Dhekial-Phukan believed that the
revenue officer needed to be dismissed, whenever oppression or fraud on
his part was proved.17
Further concrete measures for the protection of the ryots and their
liberty and rights, he thought, would be necessary when the
settletnents with revenue officers were made on a long-term basis.
Bengal’s sad experience had convinced him that the ignorance, poverty
and weakness of the peasantry would not permit them to seek redress
against injustices by application to the regular courts. He therefore
recommended that the current system of supervision by the Collectors,
both in the matter of assessing the royts’ lands and of issuing pottahs
to them, be not discontinued. His other advice was that ‘distraint might
in all cases be issued by the Revenue or Judicial officers, stationed at
each thannah, on the application of the farmers [i.e., the revenue
officers—AG], and that the latter be not permitted to exercise that
power independently without the cognizance of a public authority.’18
In Dhekial-Phukan’s scheme of things then, there was to be a
lightly assessed numerous class of small peasant proprietors at the
base; a small class of rural gentry with security and some moderate
sized properties immediately above it ; and the Government at the
apex. Whatever rent was legitimately extracted from the base was to be
mutually shared by the Government and the intermediary class of rural
gentry. Given its caste background and social context, could the rural
gentry be an entrepreneurial agency for advancement of cultivation ?
Dhekial-Phukan did not enter into this question directly. He however
had noted in 1847 in another context that the caste system was
admittedly a hindrance to production in contemporary Bengal, but less
so in Assam Proper.19 Unlike in Bengal and other parts of India, ‘the

Assamese, one and all, from the poorest peasant to the nobility were
devoted to agricultural pursuits,’ and tillage, he observed, ‘was not
exclusively the occupation of the cultivating caste'.20 Hence the
Assamese rural gentry was not, he thought, necessarily divorced from
production. Yet he looked forward in search of an entrepreneurial
agency, not to the rural gentry (they had by then started aping the
Bengali high caste society), not even to the small peasant proprietors,
but to the Government, For, as landlord it was the Government that
appropriated the major share of the total realizable rent We shall return
to this point in a moment.
Agricutlure was yet at rude stage with vestiges of tribalism
entrenched therein. There was no point in waiting for the introduction
of improvements ‘by chance’ or ‘in the ordinary progress of events’,
but improvements needed to be expedited ‘with certainty and at once’—
so argued David Scott, the first Commissioner of Assam, ‘when a
Government is placed so very far in advance of its subjects in point of
information as in our case in Assam’. While in 1831 Scott had thus
looked up to the Government for ‘that preliminary interference which
can alone prove effectual in the existing state of society’, Francis
Jenkins who long held the reins of Assam administration after him,
had a different plan. He was keen on leaving the task mainly to
immigrating Englishmen of capital and expected them ‘to offer a better
prospect for the speedy realization of improvements than any
measures that could be adopted in the present ignorant and demoralized
state of native inhabitants.’21 He believed that only by helping the
English capitalists to take over the control of the region’s land
resources could a breakthrough be made in agriculture. Impatient for an
immediate all-round modernization, Dhekial-Phukan too would not put
much faith in a process of autonomous development, starting from
below with the producers themselves. He looked forward to the
Government as the appropriate agency for modernization.
Irrespective of the strategy considered to be appropriate for the
region’s colonial development, all agreed that there was need for
stability in the rural society even as the rapid monetization and
property structures were being adapted to imperial priorities. This was
to be achieved through the good offices of a class of intermediaries
loyal to the British. On this point, the non-official approach of the
enlightened local gentry was not very different from the official one.
Dhekial-Phukan’s, and for that matter also Sadar-Amin’s, aspirations
did not essentially fail to find expression in the final recommendations
that Mills made to the policy-makers. ‘It is my desire...’ he reported—
to raise up gradually an influential class of middlemen as men between the Ryots

and the Government, to do away with constant interference in village concerns which
now overwhelm the Collectors, to give a money value to the land, and at the same
time afford efficient protection to the Ryots.
In Mills’ scheme, the right of every ryot would be known and fixed,
the extent of his holding and rent determined, and he would enter into
long term engagements direct with the Collector.22 This was also what
Dhekial-Phukan wanted, although on many other points, on the
question of the prohibition of opium trade for instance, Mills simply
ignored the modernist approach of the latter.
To sum up, both Dhekial-Phukan and Mills wanted the independent
ryots and the rural gentry to coexist within the revenue structure. A
rural society of small proprietors led by men of some rank and property
and supervised by the British administrative authorities—this was what
both aimed at. In no quarters was there expression of any concern for
the large body of under-ryots who held land not directly from the
Government but from the proprietory landholders. For these tenants-at-
will even Dhekial-Phukan showed only a limited concern. The
proliferation of numerous chamua estates during the early British times
through the fraudulent transfer of individual ryots’ pottahs to revenue-
collectors, who aspired for a Chamuadar status for themselves did not
escape his notice. He deplored the absence of specific rules that could
have protected the affected ryots, and he pleaded for necessary measures
‘for the protection of the agriculturist class,’ in this context However
there is no evidence that similar concern was expressed by him for the
cause of the tenants in general. His silence on the plight of the
numerous tenants of the Lakhirajdars, Nisfkhirajdars, Khatdars and
other substantial ryots was somewhat intriguing, particularly in the
context of his own personal association with such tenant
exploitation.23 To be fair to Dhekial-Phukan, it must be said however
that throughout the relevant period tenancy was not held to be an acute
problem either in official or in private circles. This will be discussed
again in Section VI.
II. S tructure O f T he L and R evenue S ystem
Land revenue administration and policy took shape through a series

of measures during the years 1854-93. The most important of these
were:
(i) The prohibition of opium cultivation in 1860 ;
(ii) almost a 100 per cent increase in the land revenue rates in
1867-68;
(iii) the framing of the Settlement Rules, 1870 ;
(iv) the separation of Assam from Bengal and its formation as a

Chief Commissioner’s Province on 6 February 1874 ;
(v) the establishment of a provincial department of agriculture
in 1882 ;
(vi) the recasting of the Settlement Rules in 1883 to make
decennial leases the major practice henceforth ;
(vii) the promulgation of the Land and Revenue Regulations,
1886, replacing the aforesaid Settlement Rules ;
(viii) the Cadastral Survey Operations of 1883-93 ; and
(ix) a major revamping of the land revenue rates in 1892-93.
Besides these, there were other measures specifically affecting the
planters such as the Wastelands Settlement Rules, 1854 ; Fee Simple
Rules, 1862 ; and the Thirty Years’ Lease Rules, 1876.
There were broadly two types of peasant cultivation—permanent
and fluctuating. Permanent cultivation was carried on both in rupit
(wet/transplanted) rice fields and on basti (homestead)/6ari (garden)
lands. The fluctuating or shifting plough cultivation which was
reminiscent in many ways of tribal jhum (slash-and-bum) culture was,
on the other hand, carried on in flood-prone or submontane jungly
grasslands for growing early-maturing rice (ahu), mustard-seed and
pulses etc. during the relatively dry season. These lands known as
faringati rapidly exhausted their fertility in two or three years despite
crop rotation to a limited extent Hence these lands had to be given rest
for several years thereafter. As was stated, neither these faringati lands
nor homestead and garden lands were in general subjected to any kind of
rent payments in pre-British times.
British administration found revenue assessment on a long-term
basis feasible only in the case of permanently cultivable lands, i.e.,
rupit, basti and bari lands. Assessment of the faringati lands on the
other hand was found practicable only on a year-to-year basis, for the
ryots were in the habit of relinquishing every year a good part of such
lands in their possession. Even after the large-scale conversion of
annual leases into decennial ones after 1883, the system of annual
settlements did not become obsolete. In 1886-87 for instance, the full
rate-paying ryots held 409,659 acres on annual leases and 1020,315
acres on decennial leases.24 It was not before the Settlement of 1902-12
that the decennial leases were replaced by twenty-year leases ; but
annual leases continued to remain in practice side by side even
thereafter.
Unlike the Rules of 1870 the Assam Land and Revenue
Regulations of 1886 had the force of law. Under these Regulations, the
common landholders’ (i.e., the Government ryots’) tenural rights were
for the first time, properly defined in legal terms. All holders o f
decennial leases, and those who were found paying land revenue rates
directly to the Government for the previous ten years were recognized
as ryots enjoying permanent, heritable and transferable right of use and
occupancy in their lands. This was subject to an assessment which
could be revised at the time of the next settlement. In the case of
annual settlements, the existing practice was allowed to continue. The
annually settled plots of land could be resumed by the Government fa-
public purposes without paying any compensation for the land as such,
as before. Besides, the ryots continued to have the option of
relinquishing at any time any quantum of land under either category.25
The Regulations of 1886, thus, provided a complete legal basis to
the region’s ryotwari system of land revenue administration that had
gradually taken shape in course of the preceding six decades of British
rule. A ryot’s land could now be put on auction sale anywhere in
Assam Proper by the Government if distraint of movable property was
found inadequate for recovering the arrears of land revenue from him.26
Formerly, this was possible only in Kamrup under a legal provision of
1835. If mortgaged to a money lender, land could now be lawfully
transferred to him at ease by a court decree.27
Yet another important development was the overhauling of the
revenue collection machinery to stabilize and strengthen the Assamese
rural gentry, the need for which was keenly felt as early as 1853. This
overhauling was made under the 1870 Rules and was confirmed by the
1886 Regulations.
The Mauzadari System

During the early decades, the revenue officers were not necessarily
residents of the respective fiscal divisions they held charge of, nor did
they have uniform designations and status. All such local variations
were eliminated under the Settlement Rules of 1870 so that they could
be uniformly designated as Mauzadars with identical functions. For
appointment as a Mauzadar, one had to be an influential and well-to-do
resident of the relevant mauza or fiscal division, which could vary in
area from a few square miles to 200. He was responsible for collecting
and depositing the whole of the land revenue demand from his mauza
by a stipulated date. The Mauzadar’s financial responsibility meant that
the settlement was, in essence, not with the ryots but with him. His
other function was to act within his mauza as the executant of the
District Collector’s orders. If any ryot had not paid the two instalments
of his dues by the scheduled dates, it was the Mauzadar’s duty to put
in a bakijai or statement showing the arrears. On its receipt, the
District Collector was to issue the attachment order. If the arrear

amount was not realized within fifteen days, the attached properties
were sold. For his overall services, the Mauzadar was allowed on the
total collection a percentage commission which was reduced to ten per
cent in 1870. Since 1872 this ten per cent was allowed only on the
first slab of collection (initially Rs. 6000 which was later raised to Rs.
10,000) and five per cent on the remaining portion. His annual income
from this source therefore was apparently quite modest; in some cases
even meagre. Prior to the Cadastral Survey of 1883-93, the
measurements of ryots’ holdings and assessments were practically left
to the Mauzadars. Hence there was scope for their making some extra
gain out of the occupied lands which evaded measurement. After 1883,
this scope was progressively shrinking, and such gain became much
restricted.
With the worsened financial position of the Mauzadars it was
becoming difficult to maintain the Mauzadari system as such. On the
other hand, as the Administration had to incur additional expenditures
for land measurements, it was no more prepared to sacrifice as
commission the average seven per cent of the total revenue collection
that used to go to the Mauzadars. The replacement of Mauzadars by
Tahsildars was expected to result in a two per cent saving in the cost of
collection. An attempt was made during 1883-96 to replace the
Mauzadars gradually by salaried and full-fledged government officers
designated as Tahsildars. They were given a wider territorial jurisdiction
with a view to making the working of the system less expensive. The
average area of a tahsil was 211 sq. miles and the average population
47,000. On 31st March 1896, there were 25 Tahsildars and 97
Mauzadars in Assam Proper, and they were assisted by 40 Kanungos
and 917 Mandals.28 But this new experiment was abandoned in 1896.
In due course, all Tahsildars were progressively replaced over the years
once more by Mauzadars and each of the Tahsil units was broken up
into several mauzas. A Mauzadar’s successor was ordinarily appointed
from the same family, while there was no such binding in the case of
other appointments.
A mauza was divided into several circles, each containing not less
than two hundred houses and entrusted to a petty village-based
government servant designated as Mandal. His function was to help the
Mauzadar in land measurement and in the maintenance of village
records. Village accountants, known as Thakuria, Patwari or Kakati
until 1870 were since then uniformly transformed into Mandals, their
salaries ranging from Rs. six to Rs. twelve per month. Though low-
paid and not as respectable, they too like the Mauzadars were men of
means and had other sources of income, since both were in a position
to manipulate the land records for a consideration.29 The Mauzadari
system, by and large, fulfilled the objectives highlighted by Mills and
Dhekial-Phukan. It nurtured a stable and loyal, but not very rich rural
gentry that could be relied upon and boosted by the colonial rulers to
assume leadership in the rural areas. Tahsildars, Mauzadars, Kanungos
and Mandals—their families, numbering some 1,200 or so—
constituted this loyal rural base.
The modus operandi of the revenue system itself helped the
Mauzadar to emerge as a substantial landholder in his mauza, if he was
not one already. It was often the case that, instead of instituting bakijai
cases, he converted the accumulated arrear revenue into a loan by
making the culivator execute a bond and, in due course, acquired the
land.30 Even otherwise, he could recover in the Civil Court any
advances he may have made to a ryot on account of revenue, within the
period of limitation fixed for all money debts.31 According to H Z .
Darrah, Director of Land Records and Agriculture, the Mandal was to
his circle what the Mauzadar was to his mauza. He ’carried on
cultivation as his main business, working as a mandal when he had
time or found it convenient. He was very indifferent as to his pay...
Usually he allowed it to accumulate for months'.32
To complete the rural hierarchy, most villages had a village
headman or Gaonburha, confirmed as such by the Government, He
belonged to one of the cultivating castes and was rewarded with some
revenue concession and status for his assistance to the Mauzadar and
the Mandal. There were more than 5000 Gaonburhas in all.33 While the
Mandal was a regular government employee, the positions of the
Mauzadar and the Gaonburha were quasi-official. The vertical linkage
from the District Collector down to the Gaonburha—the latter a vital
link with the toiling peasants—provided the main bulwark of the
colonial polity in rural areas, and it contributed to the process of an
increasing differentiation therein. The planter-dominated Local Boards
set up professedly for rural self-government constituted the other
bulwark. These consisted of planters’ elected representatives as well as
ex-officio and nominated European and Indian members.
Peasants and Planters

The process of colonialization did not leave the Assamese peasants
where they were. In the scheme of imperial objectives, the
development of a British-owned tea industry within the empire had a
high priority. Assam had suitable wastelands for the purpose, but not
enough labour. Nor were local public resources adequate for meeting
the budgetary expenditures that were needed to build an infrastructure

for the planters. One facet of the agrarian policy in Assam, therefore,
was to tax the peasantry heavily to the point of flushing them out in
the labour market and at the same time to augment the public revenue
resources. The first purpose however remained unfulfilled despite
repeated tax enhancements.
Between 1826 and 1853 the land revenue rates were enhanced on
several occasions. The Administration claimed that the pitch of land
revenue was yet not beyond what the rate-payers could afford to pay.
Dhekial-Phukan however submitted that ‘the assessment on the several
descriptions of lands in Assam does not appear to have been fixed with
reference to their actual capabilities! He argued thatfan enhancement of
the rates under the present circumstances of the Province, without any
marked improvement in agriculture and commerce, would be to over
burden the people with taxes, which they could but ill afford to bear.’
Assessment on some of the rupit lands, he said, was found to be nearly
equal in value to one-half of their gross produce.34
Dhekial-Phukan further argued that a tax enhancement could be
justified only after the Government had exerted itself to improve the
region’s agricultural prospects. Poor cattle breeds, lack of manuring
and irrigation, ryot’s ignorance of potential cash crops, absence of
multiple cropping and paucity of seed grains—these were identified by
him as the major maladies of peasant economy. He entreated the
Government to step in and teach the peasants better management of
their production. The immediate and concrete action that he suggested
was to make an initial public investment to the tune of rupees six to
seven lakhs (i.e., a sum equivalent to a year’s land revenue collection),
with a view to enabling the Government “to procure the requisite
supply of implements and seeds etc. and to secure the services of an
establishment to agriculturists from Europe and Upper India for a
period of two years” to work towards that end. He also emphasized the
need for an official initiative in the matter of training local people in
techniques of manufacturing and modem husbandry. That nothing was
done for uplifting agriculture during the first twentyeight years of
British rule in Assam was a matter of ‘regret and surprise’ for him.
‘Unless, therefore, the Government provides the people with better and
unproved means of cultivating their lands,’ he concluded, “an increase
of assessment will inevitably lead to an increase of unhappiness of the
people.”35
The official policy of tax enhancement went on unabated even after
1853, despite Dhekial-Phukan’s protests. As was mentioned, in 1867-
68 the Government almost doubled the existing rates without taking
the trouble of a detailed field-to-field survey and settlement work. Such

work was taken up and completed only during 1883-93 to prepare the
ground for yet another overall tax enhancement of 53 per c e n t
However, because of massive protests by the ryots, the new revenue
rates had to be reduced so as to allow only a 32.7 per cent increase
instead.36
The result of peasant-squeezing over the years was inhibiting. The
total land revenue demand more than quadrupled between 1865-66 and
1897-98 (from about Rs. 1 million to more than Rs. 4 million), while
the growth of cultivated acreage under all crops other than tea remained,
according to Sir Henry Cotton, Chief Commissioner of Assam (1896-
1902), as low as a little over seven per cent,37 with no visible increase
in productivity meanwhile. Under the pressure of an increasing
immigrant population the prices of paddy and other peasant crops
recorded a rising trend, but not beyond the rates at which these could be
obtained from Bengal. Hence, Assamese peasants’ gain from the prices
remained modest, hardly justifying the tax squeeze. The 1893 tax
enhancement was particularly objectionable in view of the black fever
epidemic that had been depopulating the Assamese villages since 1888.
The policy of increasing taxation failed to achieve its major
objective— that of increasing the supply of local labour to the
plantation sector. Labour supply was almost entirely local during the
pre-1859 period when the tea industry was quite small with an
employment potential not exceeding 10,000. Given the constraints of
an abnormally low population and unattractive wage offers, the
indenture of labour from outside the province emerged thereafter as a
major form of plantation labour supply. After 1865-66 it became
almost the sole form of such supply. Of the 307 thousand tea
plantation workers employed in Assam Proper in 1901, for instance,
only about seven per cent or 20,000 workers were reportedly of local
origin.38
The other public revenue source, second in importance only to land
revenue, was the opium excise for which the peasantry constituted
almost the sole tax base. During the early years of British rule the
peasants were allowed, even encouraged, to increase their opium
production and consumption. In 1860 local cultivation of opium was
prohibited, but not its trade. As Government remained the sole source
of opium supply from outside Assam since then, its excise revenue
could henceforth be maximized through a monopoly pricing policy.
Such a policy was in tune with the plea of some planters that the high
and increasing opium prices would solve their labour problem. Since,
to procure the drug, Assamese peasants would have to seek
AGRARIAN STRUCTURES IN THE LATE NINETEENTH CENTURY 2 35
employment to earn more. The fact that 1,689 maunds of the drug were
retailed through 2,740 licensed vendors in 1875-76 and 1,272 maunds
through 843 such vendors in 1891-92, indicates how widespread the
vice was. Because of the inelasticity of the demand, the frequent price
hikes—gradually from Rs. 24 per seer in 1860 to Rs. 37 in 1890-91—
only increased the total expenditure incurred by peasants on this drug.39
A third facet of the taxation policy was open discrimination in
favour of the planters, almost all of whom were Europeans. Over the
years 1839-1901, the planters were settled with 642 thousand acres or
more than one-fourth of the total settled area of Assam Proper. They
held more than eightyfive per cent of their lands on privileged terms.
For instance, of the 595,842 acres held by them in 1893, fiftyfive per
cent were fee simple (perpetually revenue-free) and another thirty per
cent were assessed at low concessional rates—much lower than what
the peasants paid for lands of similar quality. Only for fifteen per cent
of their holdings did the planters pay rates comparable to what was paid
by the peasant holdings. The frequent tax enhancements were always
meant for the peasants and not for the planters. Besides, wastelands
were settled On the privileged terms almost wholly with European
planters in practice. This policy had been recommended by Mills in
1854 on the ground that the natives ‘have no capital, and their only
resource is to scduce other Ryots to settle in these grants so that as
much or even more becomes waste in one place than is reclaimed in
the other.’40
A colonial theory of development was thus there to rationalize this
discrimination. Its premises were that special concessions to the
planters were necessary to attract capital, labour and enterprise which
alone could bring the wastelands under cultivation; that heavy taxation
was a necessary disincentive to the habitual ‘laziness’ of the local
peasantry to force them to seek employment in plantations and that the
planter-generated demand for farm products would accelerate growth in
the peasant sector in due course. Planters were therefore inducted as the
biggest and ‘progressive’ landowners in every rural district In the wake
of the Ripon reforms of 1882 they were also given the control of the
newly set up local boards on the plea that, of all rural interest-groups
concerned, they alone had the necessary competence and stake in the
maintenance and development of roads.41
The peasant was thus made the sacrificial goat at the altar of
colonial development. A concern for application of the Ricardian rent
theory in search of a scientific tax was seen elsewliere in India since the
days of James Mill in the East India House. But it was no more
invoked when the revenue settlement was made in Assam Proper.
Darrah, the architect of the 1892-93 revenue resettlement, argued that

the official statistics on cultivation and living costs (which he himself
had painstakingly collected) would be of no use for ascertaining the net
produce hat was elusive. Nor could the prevailing rent rates, paid to
private landlords by their tenants, provide, according to him, a guide
line in this respect. For, such rates rarely exceeded the current
Government revenue rates.42 How to apply the net produce criterion
then, if the object was to enhance the latter rates ?
Darrah bluntly admitted that ‘even if the cost of living and cost of
cultivation were accurately ascertained, there would probably be so
small a margin over and above this that no proposed enhancement,
however small, would be justified...’. When calculated at market rates,
the money cost of production could even be shown to exceed the
money value of produce, but this fact—he argued—did not prove
anything. Hence, he discarded the net produce approach and concluded:
In t country like Assam, where the supply affects the market, but the demand is
powerless to produce any alteration in the supply, the cost of production has no
necessary connection with the value of the produce.
He claimed no scientific accuracy, nor did he bother himself with
whether the rate-payer had a surplus over and above his normal costs,
when in December 1892 he recommended an average fifty three per cent
increase in the total land revenue demand.43 His only plea was that
there had been no tax enhancement since the last one in 1867-68 and
that prices of agricultural products had meanwhile been increasing.
Forms o f Property
The agrarian property structures, as these emerged through the
colonial rule, were multiform and varied—vertically as well as
laterally. There were two broad groups of landholders—(i) those who
were settled for special cultivation, i.e., the tea planters (mostly
British-owned corporate bodies) and (li) those who were settled for
ordinary cultivation. The area settled for special cultivation—we shall
call it the plantation sector—was concentrated in the hands of a small
number of tea companies and a few individual planters. Hence, the
average holding per estate was large in size, and it was held in compact
blocks. The area settled for ordinary cultivation—we shall call it the
peasant sector—was held by numerous individuals and, only in some
cases in compact blocks, by religious institutions like temples and
monasteries. The average size of owned holdings per household was
therefore small in the peasant sect«-. It could be estimated at about five
to five-and-a-half acreS.44 Yet another point to note is that the
plantation sector did not have actually even one-third of its total
acreage under crops, while the peasant sector had nine-tenth or so.
The plantation and peasant sectors could again be each divided into
several sub-categories, in accordance with the differences in their
tenural terms. In the first sector, there were mainly two types of
landholding—(i) fee simple and (li) concessional rate-paying, together
accounting for twentythree per cent of the settled rural area Besides, an
insignificant proportion of the full rate paying (khiraj) lands settled for
ordinary cultivation were also held by the planters. By 1897-98 such
planter-held khiraj lands amounted to four per cent of the total settled
area in Assam Proper (Table 11.2). In the peasant sector, there were
mainly three types of landholding—(i) revenue-free, (i'i) half rate
paying and (Hi) full rate paying.
TABLE 11.2
Tenure-wise Classification o f Settled
Acreage in Assam Proper, 1897-98
Sealed for Ordinary Cultivation 1,843,414 (76.8)

ft La-khiraj (Revenue-free) 82,910 (3.4)
ft) Nisf-khiraj (Half Rate Paying) 192,702 (8.2)
fc) Khiraj (Full Rate Paying)
heldby ryou 1,468,798 (61.2)
# Khiraj (Full Rate Paying)
held by planters 97,004 (4.0)
Settled for Special Cultivation under

Wastelands Grants Rules 555,570 (23.2)
# Fee Simple (Revenue-free) 331,878 (13.4)

(b) Rate Paying (Concessional) 223,692 (9.8)
Total Settled Average for

Cultivation 2,398,984 (100) 2,398,984 (100)
NOTE : Town lands and grants for mining, together amounting only a few
thousand acres, are not covered by the table. Under the La-khiraj head are inchided
4,301 acres representing also other petty revenue-free tenures which were on an
ex gratia footing.
SOURCE: Processed from detailed statistics in Land Revenue Administro'ion
o f the Assam Valley Districts fo r the year 1897-98 [44] Table VI, pp. 101 -2.
Fee-simple lands in the plantation sector and la-khiraj lands in the

peasant sector were revenue-free leases on a perpetual basis. Hence,
their holders were deemed as proprietory landholders. Temple properties
came under the la-khiraj category and, though institutionally held, were
actually under private management, largely benefiting certain

individuals. The rest of the landholders in either sector were called the
common landholders. When the Ifcase was not for less than ten years,
such landholders enjoyed a permanent, heritable right of use and
occupancy, as stated earlier. In other words, they had de facto
proprietory rights. In the 1870s, Hunter noted that the proprietory
right in the nisf-khiraj (half rate paying) estates, which were both
heritable and transferable, belonged to their holders and not to the
State. However, after 1886, the status of the Nisfkhirajdars was no
more recognized to be so. Baden-Powell included them within the
category of common landholders, together with the khiraj or full rate
paying ryots, both being liable to attachment of their properties for
recovery of arrears of revenue.45
The relative shares of revenue-free, half rate paying and full-rate
paying lands in the peasant sector, as proportions of the total settled
area, are shown in Table 11.2 for the single year 1897-98. These,
respectively, were a little over three per cent, eight per cent and
sixtyone per cent in that year. This means that within the peasant
sector itself about five per cent of all lands were revenue-free ; eleven
per cent half-rate paying; and the remaining eighty four per cent, full
rate paying. These proportions were, more or less, valid for the last
two decades of the nineteenth century.
Revenue-free (la-khiraj) and half-rate paying estates included
considerable tracts of wastelands, though not to the same degree as in
the case of the plantation estates. For such wastelands no land revenue
was payable in the first case, and even in the case of the half-rate
payers such wastelands were in fact revenue-free until 1893. In the case
of the full rate paying estates on the other hand, faringali rates were
applicable to all such occupied wastelands. These estates therefore
could not afford to hold much vacant lands. Government wastelands
were abundantly available all around for settlement on a year-to-year
basis. Hence, only that much of wastelands was taken up as could be
cultivated. Relinquishments and new acquisitions of leases affecting
thousands of acres of such lands were a regular annual feature of the
rural economy. Besides, there was also a tribal population practising
shifting hoe cultivation (jhuming), though its scope was abridged by
the expanding tea plantations over the century.
In the plantation enclave there were two broad classes— the
capitalists and the workers, the latter’s relations with the former
combining the forms of slavery, serfdom and wage-labour, all in one.
How capitalist the plantation system was in essence is therefore
difficult to judge.
In the'peasant sector which was undergoing a stunted growth, the

class situation was even more complex and varied.
T h e B ig L andholders : T heir L andlord E conomy
Having acquainted ourselves with the broad frame of the given

property structures, let us now look into the formative process through
which new classes emerged in the Assamese agrarian society—some
really new and some new in the sense that they were adapted to the new
colonial situation.
In pre-British times, there were broadly three classes of people in
Assam Proper i46
(i) the aristocray, i.e., the feudal landlords, both temporal and
spiritual, who had revenue-free landed properties and servile
dependants to work there.
(a) the servile population, i.e. the serfs, slaves and tenants who
were exclusively dependent on these landlords and cultivated
their lands; and
(iii) the numerous peasantry holding land directly from the State
and paying rent to it in some form or other.
This simplified classification ignores complexities. There were
surely differences between serfs, tenants and slaves, but these
differences got blurred and, excepting for the full-fledged domestic
slaves, all of them had more or less the same working conditions as
dependent peasants. They were, in essence, serfs.
Incidentally, in course of a representation to Mills, Maniram
Dewan divided the population into eight groups without further
elaboration, as follows ; (1) upper classes, (2) respectable people, (3)
middling classes, (4) chamua paiks, (5) kanree paiks. (6) temple paiks,
(7) mahantas and (8) hill tribes. Obviously, these were status-groups,
rather than social classes.
An overwhelming majority of the population belonged to the
landholding peasantry designated as Paiks. Generally, trading and craft
activities were carricd on only as part time occupations by some
landlords and peasants. This structure, more or less, continued up to
the first decade of British rule in the region.
One traditional way of indicating economic differentiation in the
countryside was to classify the households on the basis of the number
of ploughs operated and not the amount of landhold. For, under the
conditions of land-aburidance, landholding as such was of lesser
significance than one's command over capital and labour. Households
were thus grouped into four broad categories for purposes of a levy in
the 1830s, as follows.47
(i) uttam (superior), i.e., those with three or more ploughs each ;
(ii) madhyam (middling), i.e., those with two ploughs each ;
(iii) samanya (common),i.e., those with one plough each ; and
(iv) prakrit (inferior), i.e. the ploughless who worked with
borrowed plough or were slaves and bondsmen.
The plough criterion as a measure of rural economic differentiation
did not fall into disuse even thereafter. An official investigator in 1888,
for instance, noted that out of a-total of fifty households in Teliagaon
village of Nowgong, three had three ploughs each, two had two
ploughs each, thirty had one plough each, and ten had none.48 In
general, the first category represented the rural rich—both landlords and
rich peasants—and the last category the poorest of the village poor.
However, economic differentiation could not always be satisfactorily
indicated by the number of ploughs. Nor could it be by the number of
granaries, the other criterion traditionally applied for the purpose. Even
those who were neither landlords nor rich peasants might have had
three or more ploughs each, if the family size was big and its
composition favourable. Under the circumstances, one has to find out a
more reliable criterion for defining the contours of the classes formed
within the post-annexation Assamese society.
In forcibly breaking up the old society die Raj was guided largely
by political considerations. It had no over-all urge for liquidating all
precapitalist forms of property and labour, unless such a need was felt
in the immediate interest of the plantation sector. Hence there was a
survival, even preservation of many such forms, if that did not come in
the way of the planters.
Of the scores of large revenue-free holdings belonging to the secular
nobility, many were confiscated to the State after the annexation or
were allowed to be sold off for arrears of land revenue (newly imposed
and payable in cash); a few only survived, e.g., the private holdings of
the Rajah of Darrang, as half-rate paying estates. In this process, the
old secular nobility was practically done away with. Not so in the case
of the spiritual nobility. Of the revenue-free estates held by Brahmans
and managers of various religious institutions, some survived the
resumption proceedings of 1834-60 unscathed, while others were
reduced to a half-rate paying status. In any case, these surviving
landlord estates of both descriptions—their number ranged between
2,000 and 3,000 over the- last quarter of the nineteenth century—
continued to exert influence. Out of the 1733,267 acres seulcd for
cultivation by 1880, as much as 318,540 acres or eighteen per cent
were reportedly found settled with 'big' landholders styled as

Lakhirajdars, Nisfkhirajdars, Khatdars and Chamuadars.49 While the
first two were holders of privileged tenures, the last two were full-rate
paying substantial ryots. All these landholders' holdings consisted of
three parts : (i) own cultivation carried on by family members and
bondsmen, (ii) cultivation carried on by tenants and (iii) considerable
tracts of wastelands.
Comparable breakdown figures indicating the specific types of big
land-holdings are not readily available to us. However, some stray
figures available for select years could be used to indicate the pattern.
There were in Assam Proper, altogether 2,035 half-rate paying estates
holding 199,042 acres, i.e., an average ninetyeight acres per estate, in
1887-88. The number of these estates increased to 2,479 by 1895-96
while the area held by them had meanwhile decreased to 195,022 acres,
i.e. seventynine acres per estate. These figures suggest that the
Nisfkhirajdars, or half-rate payers, accounted for some sixty per cent
acreage of the big landholdings.50
There were also, in all, 139 la-khiraj or revenue-free estates (mostly
temple and religious trust lands) with a total landholding of 83,756
acres, i.e., an average 603 acres per estate in 1895-96 in Assam Proper.
These together apparently accounted for about a quarter of the total
acreage held by the big landholders. Chamuadars and Khatdars who paid
full rates then, accounted for the remaining 15 per cent or so. One full
iatepaying estate in Kamrup was known to have had a compact area of
515 acres and two others, between them, held 815 acres in 1895-96.51
As to the degree of concentration of landholding within our 'big'
landholder category, we have no further data except, again, for some
stray information. In 1893-94 there were 1,217 big landholders in
Assam Proper, each of whom paid towards land revenue at least for 100
bighas or 33 acres. Almost all of them were Nisfkhirajdars ; and only a
few, Chamuadars and Khatdars. This also meant that at least half of the
nisf-khiraj estates numbering 2,479 in 1895-96 were of a size of less
than 33 acres each.52 In this connexion, it should be noted that, being
heritable and transferable, many of the 'big' landholdings had already
undergone a process of subdivision and fragmentation as well as
transfer by sale and hence no longer remained big. Some even ceased to
*
be viable.
Most of the big landholdings and more than half of the Assamese
Brahmans were concentrated in Kamrup—the most populous of all the
five districts of Assam Proper under consideration. About eighty five
per cent of the region's half-rate paying acreage and forty per cent of the
revenue-free (la-khiraj) acreage were concentrated in this district in
1895-96. Its landholding pattern therefore was much more landlord-

oriented than in any other district of Assam Proper. Of the total area of
591,706 acres settled with the peasant sector of Kamrup in 1900-01,
twentyfive per cent were covered by nisf-khiraj estates and six per cent
by la-khiraj estates; there were besides a few Chamuadars and Khatdars.
Thus an estimated one-third of the peasant sector was covered by big
landholding estates numbering a couple of thousands or so. Of them at
least 1,074 had each a holding of 33 acres or above.53 Of all the
districts Kamrup therefore accounted for the largest concentration of
tenants.
The big landholders (mostly of high caste origin) who had survived
were quick to shift their loyalty to the new regime, and they tried to
avail themselves of modem education and other opportunities brought
by it. Mauzadars, government servants and men of professions rose
mostly from families with a landholding and high caste background.
Those few who did not were also quick to acquire land. Thus, the class
of big landholders was enlarged and, in our period, it was composed of
two broad sections —one backward-looking with old roots and values,
and another forward-looking striking new roots and acquiring new
values. The difference was of course more of culture than of roots, of a
degree of Anglicization and the generation gap. In a contemporary
satirical poem the former were called dangariyas (gentry) and the latter
babus.54 Both babus and dangariyas were found amongst the early
Assamese tea planters; the fact that the latter did not know English was
of no consequence in this respect. It was from the big landholding
category of both varieties that the core of the modem Assamese middle
class was bom.
The economic basis of this class might be further elaborated with
some illustrative materials. A deceased Mauzadar in 1870 reportedly
left behind 5,000 acres of half and full rate paying lands, fifty pairs o f
plough bullocks, fifty bondsmen and forty granaries.55 Obviously, a
part of the holding used to be cultivated on his own account, a part by
his tenants, and the rest remained waste, in 1882 Harakanta Barua
Sadar-Amin, to whom a reference has been made, held altogether 476
acres of land in several compact blocks. Of those, 301 acres were held
on khiraj terms and 175 acres on la-khiraj terms. These were mostly
tenant-cultivated, while his own cultivation was carried on by thirteen
bondsmen. His lands were later to be divided amongst six heirs.56 Or,
take Madhavchandra Bardalai (1847-1907), a high-ranking government
servant who was reportedly drawing a salary of Rs 800 per month
towards the end of the nineteenth century. For his 80-member
household in Guwahati town, supplies of foodgrains were regularly
drawn from his khats or estates. He had fifteen to sixteen bondsmen

attached to his household, three to four horse carriages, one elephant
and 20 cows.57
Another interesting case was that of one Hatibarua, an
impoverished scion of an Ahom noble family. His father was
victimized and relieved of his privileges on charges of non-cooperation
with British rule. Hatibarua himself was later appointed as a Mauzadar,
but was soon dismissed on charges of embezzlement. Finally, as a
result of the Abolition of Slavery Act, 1843, he lost all his slaves and
began to live by selling his lands and ornaments. At the age of seventy
in 1888, he was left with with only eight-acres of land and a pair of
plough buffaloes. Despite his having two adult sons, he was largely
dependent for his cultivation on a hired ploughman and casual labour.58
Yet he could no more be deemed a landlord or even a rich peasant by
any standard. His dependence on hired labour for sowing and harvesting
was apparently because of the all-male composition of his household.
How big or small could a big landholder's own operational holding'
be ? We have no data for an answer to this question. Surely it would
vary according to circumstances like other collateral sources of income
and soil quality. Writing about Kamrup in 1879, Hunter suggested :
A farm of above a hundred bighas or thirty-three acres is considered to
be a very large holding for a husbandman and anything below twenty
bighas or seven acres is a small one. Sixty bighas or twenty acres make
a very comfortable farm for a peasant family.59
Taking the cue from Hunter and also considering the fact that the
big landholdings tended to decrease in size in later decades by way of
partitions and sales, we might perhaps suggest that all landholders of
Kamrup, irrespective of their origins, who held twenty acres each or
above, could be deemed as big landholders. For other districts this
lower limit could be brought down to fifteen acres. To cultivate that
much of land at least three plough units would be necessary. Given the
social context and origins of the big landholding estates, we could
further point out that these big landholders, even while having their
own cultivation, did not contribute any manual labour. Besides, they
also sublet to tenants. Hence they could be deemed as landlords, while
those who held ten to twenty acres each in Kamrup and seven and a
half to fifteen acres each in other districts could be deemed as petty or
impoverished landlords, if they too abstained from doing any manual
labour even on their own farms. But any attempt at putting them into
a watertight compartment in isolation from rich peasants and middle
classes would be self-defeating. The new and old classes were in a
melting pot. Whom to call landlords and whom, rich peasants ? The
caste factor could perhaps be taken as the dividing line. Landholders of
the cultivating castes took their own cultivations seriously and with
great personal involvement, while those of high castes increasingly
shifted to middle class professions and services, both however retaining
meanwhile their tenantry, in greater or lesser degree.
T he S mall L andholders : T heir P easant E conomy
Big landholders were not many while the unprivileged, small

landholders were, numerous, and they accounted for almost all the
temporarily-settled estates. Such estates numbered 525,082 in 1887-88,
545,145 in 1888-89, 645,419 in 1893-94 and 642,526 in 1895-99. A
landholder did not necessarily have one estate only. Usually he had at
least two estates representing respectively, his decennial and annual
leases. Besides, separate pottahs were often issued for detached parcels
of land belonging to the same ryot. Hence the number of so-called
estates did not represent the number of peasant holdings. The average
peasant holding was bigger in size than an average estate. On the basis
of available related figures, we have already estimated it at about five to
five-and-a-half acres.60 The landholding peasantry could again be
stratified into several strata—rich, middle and poor—on the basis of
some working criterion.
Many of the peasants owned and operated more than one plough,
and some owned none. The overwhelming majority, however, were
single-plough cultivators. A typical peasant held most of his lands on
a decennial and some on an annual lease. The three types of land—
bastilbari (homestead/garden), rupit (wet) and faringati (dry)—
accounted, respectively, for nine, fortyfive and thirtyseven per cent, or
so, of an average holding61. If not endowed in the same manner, the
cultivators tended to maintain the proportion through an adjusting
process of mutual leasing in and leasing out of tiny plots. Leasing in
from the big landholders—i.e. the Lakhirajdars, Nisfkhirajdars,
Chamuadars, Khatdars and other landed gentry like the Mauzadars—was
one way of increasing their land resources.
The other way to get extra land was to break up some virgin lands
and get those settled on an annual lease. By applying to an officer on
the spot any amount of such lands could be taken up and held in
occupation by anybody as long as a revenue rate of eight annas per
bigha (as applicable to all faringati lands during 1867-92) was paid by
him. To encourage breaking up of wastelands, Rule 25 of the
Resettlement Rules of 1892-93 provided that the lease of such
wastelands would be continued for the first ten years of occupancy at
this old rate, irrespective of their soil quality and the revised new
rates.62
How big could a single-plough peasant farm be ? A farm of six
bighas in Lakhimpur, ten bighas in Nowgong and Darrang and fifteen
bighas in Kamrup was reckoned by Hunter as a very small one. A
single pair of oxen was reportedly capable of cultivating about twelve
to eighteen bighas of land.63 Even such farms, when owned by men of
high castes, invariably needed hired labour in some form or other,
while the owners hired themselves out, whenever possible, for superior
types of work or went into professions for survival. Under these
circumstances, those who operated holdings up to the size of eighteen
bighas (six acres) could be deemed as poor peasants, some of them
verging on the middle peasant category.
Rural poverty largely stemmed from the fact that production was at
a low and near-primitive level. It was largely a legacy of the past.
Double cropping and crop rotation were practised only on a limited
scale—the former never exceeding thirteen per cent of the net cropped
acreage (other than under tea), while faringati lands continued to be
largely subjected to shifting plough cultivation.64 Yet because of the
natural soil fertility, the average yield of threshed (but unhusked) paddy
gram per acre could be favourably compared with that in other parts of
India. This average came out to be 1,512 lbs per acre (6.2 maunds per
bigha) in the case of sali (aman) variety of rice and 1,322 lbs per acre
(5.4 mds per bigha) in the case of quick-maturing ahu (aush) rice.65 The
considerable scope for free grazing and collecting activities in forests
and government wastelands, and for the pursuit of one or more of
supplementary activities like spinning, weaving, sericulture, basketry
etc. at the household level, hampered occupational specialization.
Wrote Gunabhiram Barua in 1888 : "Caste system is very lax. We are
our own barbars, basket-makers, washermen, oilmen, drummers etc.”.
Even potters, blacksmiths and fishermen who represented specialized
groups were part-time cultivators. Take the case of Juvon Dom, 56
head of an eleven-member household. He claimed in 1888 that fishing,
his main occupation, sustained his family for about eight months of
the year. He had a pair of bullocks and fourteen bighas of land—all this
of non -faringati quality and self-cultivated—which supplied him with
part of his paddy requirements. Besides, raw cotton bought from the
market was spun and woven into cloth by female members of the
family for home use. A lag in efficiency was obvious in this case
because of a lack of specialization. Juvon complained that the family
could not afford two meals a day for at least a month in the lean
season.66
It was difficult to decide who was a rich, poor or middle peasant,

simply on the basis of his holding size or the hiring-in/hiring-out
criterion. Take the case of Kolaram Ganak, about 60 and head of a
nine-member household in the village of Bokagaon near Dharamtul in
Nowgong. The household had about fortythree bighas of land, all self
cultivated with three bullocks and three buffaloes. It was indeed
described as 'very well-to-do' and debt-free. Women of the household, as
usual with all Assamese families, did a little weaving with home-made
raw silk and cotton yam bought from the market. Around 1888, even
this household was casually hiring out male labour to nearby tea
gardens for augmenting its cash resources. It was surely not poor and
could be put into the middle peasant category. Or, take the case of
Jinaram Kakati, 46, head of a sixteen-member family. He had about
fortyfour bighas of self-cultivated land and enough buffalo and bullock
power to cultivate that much. Like Ganak he too produced a variety of
crops aiming at self-sufficiency, while marketing only a small surplus.
His homestead garden products were partly sold for cash and partly
bartered for salt. Family members pressed mustard-seeds for oil
consumed at home by using a crude wooden device. They also carried
on spinning and weaving on a considerable scale and collected firewood
from unreserved forests to meet a part of household needs. Jinaram was
fairly well-to-do, no doubt. Though indebted to the extent of Rs. 40,
he had Rs. 146 worth of jewellery and Rs 46 worth of silk clothes.
Though he employed a considerable amount of hired labour—this was
probably because of his caste status—by no means did he fulfil the
requirements of an enterprising farmer. Towards religious purposes he
spent annually about Rs. 35—a sum equivalent to what he paid as land
revenue. His savings were obviously not spent on farm
improvements.67
The burden of land revenue as a proportion of the gross produce
could be as high as one-half in some exceptional cases, as was pointed
out in 1853 by Dhekial-Phukan. In general, however, it was surely
decreasing with the rising prices of agricultural commodities. After the
resettlement of 1892-93, while the average value-product per bigha of
wet rice lands could be roughly estimated at anything between Rs. 5
and Rs. 7, the relevant land revenue rate was one rupee per bigha, i.e.,
an equivalent of one-fifth to one-seventh of the gross produce or near
about that.68 The difference between the prices of unhusked paddy and
husked rice was quite high because of the labour shortage phenomenon.
The price received by the actual peasants was also much lower than the
price at which businessmen sold to the non-peasant sector. In 1888, a
village trader was buying unhusked paddy at lOannas a maund and, at
the same time, selling clean rice at Rs. 2 per maund. What was a more
important consideration for the peasant, however, was the proportion
the burden of land revenue bore to his marketable surplus. The
estimated cash requirements of Kolaram Ganak, for example, were said
to total up to about Rs. 130. Of this a little over one-fourth was
needed to meet the land revenue demand; and the rest, for the purchase
of certain necessaries like salt, tobacco, cloth, sugar, oil, cotton yam
and bell-metal vessels. It was to meet his cash requirements that he
produced a surplus for the market.69 In his household none was addicted
to opium.
The incidence of land revenue fell heavy on the peasants, since its
demand was hardly met by them out of a real surplus. What they
brought to the market was at the cost of not only their profits but also
part of their subsistence ; sometimes even the seed grain. In other
words, the State as landlord took away by and large not only the
differential rent, but also profits if any. It even encroached upon the
peasant's subsistence in many cases. As a result, in most cases land
had no value and there was no land market as such. One of the
investigators for the Dufferin Inquiry observed : ’Faringati land is
hardly ever sold, but when there is competition, Rs. 1-8 per acre or one
year's revenue is the usual price." Even rupit lands of inferior quality
fetched about the same price and those of good quality only up to Rs.
15 an acre.70 It was at the time of paying the land revenue and in lean
months that the cultivators borrowed from the traders, landlords and
rich peasants.
F orms O f H ired L abour
The scope for hiring labour was limited. The three forms of
resorting to non-household labour were mutual cooperation, bonded
labour and wage labour. Of these, the first was widely practised by
peasants when household labour was not found enough for the timely
completion of harvesting or sowing operations or for house-building.
On such occasions co-villagers—if formally approached—were custom-
bound to help their neighbours and were in return entertained with
refreshments or a feast. For the landlord and rich peasant economy,
however, bonded labour emerged as the most important form.
In pre-British Assamese society an estimated five to nine per cent
of the population were in the unfree or bonded labour category, their
customary status ranging from agrestic slavery and serfdom to that of
mortgaged labour and dependent tenancy.71 Agrestic slavery was not
practised in its classical form. Hence, slaves, serfs and unredeemed
mortgaged labour could hardly be distinguished from each other. The
official informants of the Indian Law Commission on Slavery therefore

put most of them in the broad slave category.72 The case of dependent
tenantry being different, a discussion on their status is postponed to the
next section.
Formal abolition of slavery in 1843 did not bring this practice to
an end. Though legally free, many erstwhile slaves and their children
continued to work for their masters as before for yet another generation
or two. The medieval practice of extending credit on the mortgage of
one's labour power had not lost its legitimacy either. Its legitimacy
was, on the contrary, enhanced by the introduction of apparently
similar practices also in the modem sector of the economy. The
Workmen's Breach of Contract Act of 1859 in force until 1926 and
Sections 490 and 492 of the Indian Penal Code 1860, which were
introduced to help European employers in solving their labour and
servant problem, may be mentioned in this context. The Transport of
Native Labourers’ Act of 1863 and its amendments, the Inland
Emigration Act of 1882 and its amendments, and the Assam Labour
and Immigration Act of 1901—in fact, a whole series of labour
legislation was directed toward legitimizing and extending a bonded
(indentured) form of labour in the Assam plantations. Hence, it is no
surprise that the traditional bonded labour forms were tolerated and even
allowed to continue in the peasant sector. In the given situation of a
limited market growth, an exacting land revenue demand and a revenue-
maximizing opium excise policy, peasants often had to borrow cash on
the mortgage of their own labour power. Sometimes, one's labour was
mortagaged so that his brother or father could get funds to buy a
bullock or redeem his mortgaged land. Of the bonded labourers, only
some.were ex-slaves ; all others were poor peasants. If the sum
borrowed was heavy, chances of redemption were generally remote. In
the Census of 1891 as many as 3,009 persons in the then district of
Kamrup and 857 in the rest of Assam Proper were recorded as
belonging to the occupational category of farm servants—most of
them presumably bonded—and their dependants.
Under the bandha (bondsman) system of labour a loan was advanced
on a written agreement and, sometimes, without it. The borrower, as
bonded under the system, tilled the owner's land and worked also as a
general servant, getting allowance of the interest and a monthly
deduction from the principal. If he was neither fed nor clothed, the
deduction allowed was relatively large. But it did not generally exceed
two rupees a month, the actual amount varying with other
circumstances. In other cases, i.e., when the Bandha was fed and/or
clothed, the deduction was much less. Around 1888, an able-bodied
man, who was fed but not clothed by his master, had to work for
twenty months towards settling an advance of Rs. 20. In this case, a
month's wage was deemed equivalent to the food, interest and a rupee
in cash. If he borrowed Rs. 40, then he was credited with only 12
annas per month, as the interest on the debt was larger. If the borrower
was both fed and clothed, or if the borrowed sum far exceeded Rs. 40,
then the borrower often got nothing deducted from the principal sum ;
he had to work in lieu of interest alone. Under such circumstances, he
could be redeemed from his bondage only if somebody came forward on
his behalf to repay the principal amount. His condition therefore
differed little from that of a permanent bondsman.73
Under the marakiya system of labour, the service of one's plough
bullocks or buffaloes was lent out to a needy peasant during the
ploughing season. The borrower ploughed the lender's land for two
days and his own land for one day, and in that proportion for the whole
season. When only one bullock was borrowed, he worked for one day
in three days for the lender. Often, because of untimely or inadequate
ploughing, his own cultivation yielded poor results.
The Marakiya was bound to work for the lender during the
ploughing season only, and that too for limited days and only for the
morning hours, the traditional ploughing time. For the remaining free
time he could mind his own business or work for others. What form of
labour did he then represent ? Bonded or free ? According to John Butler
the Marakiya was not an equal of his employer ; neither was he a
servant, nor a slave, 'but partaking of all'. According to Gunabhiram
Barua he was essentially a free labourer. However, as long as he
remained plough-poor and hence had to repeatedly resort to the
marakiya arrangement, his cultivation went on deteriorating. Plough-
rich competitors for his service in the neighbourhood were also not
many. Hence, he often became totally dependent on his patron and, in
that case, he was only in a slightly better situation than a Bandha.
Often in lieu of the service of his master's plough, the Marakiya was
given the produce of a certain portion of the latter's field.74
Some illustrative materials are provided by the Dufferin Inquiry
into the conditions of 'the lower classes of population' that was
conducted in 1888.
Of the 32 individual households covered by the Inquiry in Assam
Proper, one had no land at all and was totally ruined, and ten were
found to be associated with one or the other form of bonded labour or
both. In Table 11.3 are shown such details as household size,
landholding, the number of draught animals and cows owned and the
estimated cash needs for rent payment and opium purchase of these
TABLE 11.3
Available data on ten households hiring out labour
Land owned (Bighas) Opera No. of cattle Rent Cash Occurrence

SI. Name and Land leased tional obligations (R s) need of labour
No. household size Basti Rupit Farin Total in (+ y farm Plough milch tot
Ivl forme 1in
lUlllla 11
gati Out (-) size bullock cow Land Cash opium the house-
(Bighas) (Bighas) Rev. rent (Rs.) hold
1. Hudo Kalita : 3 • • • 1.06 • • • 1.06 ♦2.00(F) 3.06 1 • ■ • 0.75 • • • MBW

(in exchange
of service)
2. Tokaru Kalita : 4 • • • 2.76 • • • 2.76 +0.25 (B) 3.01 2 • • • 1.88 0.25 17.00 BW
3. Hadi Rabha : 3 2.24 4.12 • • • 6.36 -4.12 (R) 2.24^ • • • • • • 5.12 • • • 3 4 .2 5 " BW
4. Dhanraj Lalung : 11* 1.35 15.01 0.79 17.15 • • • 17.15 2 2 11.18 • • • MW
5. Aharu Lalung : 6 1.00 5.00 • • • 6.00 • • • 6 .00 ^ • • • • • • 5.00 • • • 39.32 MBW
6. Namal Shekh : 4 2 .00 t 8.50 • • • 10.50 • • • 10.50 1 • • • 8.00 • • • 10.50 M
7. Balai Keot : 3 0.37 3.50 2.00 5.87 -1.00 (R) 4.37 • • • • • • 3.88 • • • 22.50 MW
(mortgaged out)
8. Mihiram Keot : 4 0.50 5.80 8.00 14.30 +3.00 (R) 17.00 • • • ■ ■ ■ 8.12 1.00 M
-0.30 (B+R)
9. Anonymous : 9 1.31 8.12 1.43 10.86 +2.00 (F) 12.86 1 • • • 8.05 1.00 MW
10. Gopal Katani : 3 • • • • • • 2.00 2.00 +5.20 (R) 9.45 • • • • • • 1.00 4.75 M
+2.00 (R)
+0.25 (B)
NOTE: “Two duolocal matrilineal families treated as one. Abbreviations : B Basti, R = Rupit, F = Faringati
♦Wholly or largely left uncultivated, as could not M Marakiya, i.e., labour-rent, paid for the use
be leased out of another’s plough cattle for the season.
♦♦Claimed, but belived to be an over-statement. B Bonded labour in settlement of an advance.
fEstimated. W Wage work.
SOURCE : Data tabulated form Dufferin inquiry, Proc. No. 10, [731, Appendix C.
latter ten households. All these ten were indebted to a varying degree
and half of them were opium consumers ; two had a pair of bullocks
each, three had one bullock each and five had none. Given their meagre
land resources and crop yields, the burden of land revenue—and, in four
cases, also of rent payable to private landlords—was anything but
light. In the case of all the five opium - addicted households, the
opium excise made the burden of cash obligations all the more
crushing. Two households offered their male labour on both marakiya
and bandha term s; six only on marakiya terms and two only on bandha
terms. Besides, such of their family members as were not bonded,
particularly women, worked also for wages whenever some work was
found.
Three of the ten cases may be closely looked into. Tokaru Kalita,
25, head of afour-member family, was the poorest man in village
Balasidhi in the Chaygaon Mauza of Kamrup, not counting its lone
beggar. The family got only part subsistence from their three bighas of
self-cultivated land. Tokaru had executed a stamped bond for a loan of
Rs. 100 from a Marwari trader. As per agreement, Tokaru's brother
worked as a general servant and cartman for the latter. He-was allowed
interest and an annual deduction of Rs. 12 towards the loan settlement
; the employer neither fed nor clothed him. Another brother was a
Tahsildar’s bonded servant against a loan of Rs. 40. He received food,
clothings, allowance of interest and an annual deduction of Rs. 6
towards the repayment. For the household's third loan of Rs. 12, there
was no such labour mortgage involved. The first loan was utilized to
settle old paternal debts ; the second, for paying land revenue dues and
buying some necessaries like paddy ; and the third for buying paddy.
Finally, Tokaru's pair of bullocks being old, he was considering
whether to mortgage his own labour also. In this particular case opium
addiction was a major cause of impoverishment, though not the sole
one.75
But even when free from opium addiction, other poor households
hardly fared better. Settlement of an old paternal debt cost Mihiram
Keot, 45, head of a four-member family, as much as half of his 20
bighas of paternal lands, besides a milch cow with calf and a cash sum
of Rs. 5. His own debt of Rs. 20 to a Brahman shopkeeper, whom he
was supposed to serve in bondage, had also to be finally liquidated by
mortgaging the remaining ten bighas. Later, as his only pair of
bullocks had to be sold off at Rs. 30 to meet the expenses of the
belated legitimization of his marriage under social pressure, he ended
up as a Marakiya of the village Gaonburha. The household's remaining
assets consisted of a few bighas of land belonging to his wife, Rs. 15
worth of gold ornaments, Rs. 12 worth of clothes, about Rs. 9 worth

of brass and bell-metal utensils, a loom valued Re 1 and a dao
(chopper) valued 8 annas.76
A ' 9-mcmbcr household, one of the four poorest in the village of
Rangagora in Nowgong, was ruined by two successive crop failures
due to vagaries of weather. To supplement income, the householder not
only worked for wage, but also gathered a second picking (do-dalia)
from the paddy shoots of others’ harvested fields, and even begged. To
pay the land revenue, he used to borrow every year Rs. 8 from a trader
by pledging his mustard-seed crop at a price stipulated in advance.
Because of the crop failure, his outstanding debt to the trader increased
to Rs 16. He had also to borrow a sum of Rs 4 for buying paddy.
Owning only one bullock, he had to enter into marakiya terms for the
service of another. Amongst his assets were 10 bighas of land, a
plough, a loom, two mats for furniture, Rs. 6 worth of brass and bell-
metal utensils, clothing of an estimated value of Rs 12 and no
jewellery. His eldest son, aged 10, went naked.77
Examples need not be multiplied to describe the situation. Both
labour and capital were relatively scarce—the latter perhaps more—in
relation to land. Paucity of capital rather than of land was the main
cause of peasants' impoverishment. Those who had spare draught
animals or enough cash to advance were alone able to have a secure
supply of hired labour. Amongst the employers were not only the big
landholders including the Mauzadars, Tahsildars and Mandals but also
cultivating Brahman priests, village traders and rich peasants.
Monetization and penetration of merchant capital into the rural
economy were new factors that tended to sustain the incidence of
bondage amongst the peasants. Bondage remained the main labour
form.
Contemporary observers noted that the wage rates for free
agricultural labour were relatively high, since such labour was scarce.
While bonded male labour was used for ploughing—a masculine job, it
was female wage labour which was sought after for sowing,
transplantation, paddy-husking, and largely also for harvesting
operations as well. Wage payment was made mainly in kind and, to
some extent also in money. The usual payment in Kamrup for a day's
work around 1888 was one seer of rice and about 8 to 9 seers of
paddy—all this worth 3 annas—for paddy-reaping, and one seer of rice
and two seers of mustard-seed—together worth 4 annas—for gathering
the mustard-crop. Sometimes, the payment was made in the form of
the produce of half of a bigha of good land, which was equivalent to
about rupees four, for transplanting or reaping work during the season.
As one could work intermittently for four to five employers during the
same period, the arrangement was no worse than the daily rate. These
wage-rates were indeed not low by current standards. For, the daily
wage rate paid for road work by the PWD was 4 annas per day, and the
rate paid in plantations to free labour near about the same. In the case
of indentured tea labour, it was even less than the stipulated minimum
wage of Rs. 5 for men and Rs. 4 for women per month.78
Contemporary observers highlighted the fact that there was no
agricultural labour class as such in Assam Proper. Yet one finds that
poor peasants belonging to the Boro-Kachari tribe of Kamrup and
Darrang were quite mobile in search of unskilled wage jobs. Almost all
tea gardens employed to some extent local labour, most of whom were
ethnically Boro-Kachari. In 1901 for instance, 14,000 Boro-Kachari
labourers were found working in the plantations. Many worked on
roads and other contract jobs. In the late winter Boro-Kachari villagers
in large numbers used to cross over from Darrang to Nowgong to be
employed by Marwari mustard-seed traders as their porters.79 Some of
them were also found on the construction sites of the railways and the
Post and Telegraph Department
However, the supply of Boro-Kachari labour for wage work was not
steady. Nor was it available without payment of an advance and a wage
higher than what was paid to indentured tea labour. They went out for
such work generally with a view to saving enough for paying the
customary bride-price or meeting the land revenue demand. As soon as
the purpose was fulfilled, they reverted to personal cultivation.
To sum up, all those who took up wage work did so on a casual
basis. Generally, surplus members of large-sized peasant families and
widows, children and such persons as had been turned into paupers,
were available for wage work. Such employment was relatively more
in vogue in Kamrup than in any other district for the simple reason
that there were relatively more landlords and Brahmans in the former
district. According to Darrah's note on the ’condition of the people of
Assam'.—
The women of poorer classes...are largely employed by the wealthier
cultivators in transplanting paddy. In Kamrup the boys and young men
of a village earn something almost every year by turning cane mills.
Larger cultivators regularly emplov their poorer neighbours in cutting
paddy and sometimes in ploughing. 0
Easy availability of land on ownership or tenancy terms inhibited
the growth of an agricultural labour class as such from within the
Assamese society. According to the Census of 1891 those
occupationally classed as farm servants and field labourers together
numbered ony 4,498 persons including dependants. Of them, 368
persons in Kamrup and 264 in the rest of Assam Proper belonged to

the category of field labourers or free wage labour as such (Table 11.4).
The rest were attached farm servants, of whom a mention has already
been made while discussing the question of bonded labour. Even if
understated, these figures were not far off the mark. By the turn of the
century however, time-expired indentured tea garden workers began in
trickles to swell the ranks of agricultural labour, particularly in the tea
districts.
The Dufferin Inquiry illustrates how wage labour was employed in
the peasant sector. The case of the Brahman cultivator of Chalchali
mauza in Nowgong who had only part sustenance from his 21 bighas
of owned land—all of non-faringati quality—provides us with an
interesting illustration in this respecL Besides supervising cultivation,
he and his brother practised, respectively, as a village physician and a
priest. They employed one ploughman, paying him with the produce
of 4 bighas of land on an annual basis and another, paying him Rs. 6
in cash for the season. They also contributed Rs. 3 annually towards
sharing the service of a village cowherd. Half a bigha was leased out at
a cash rent which was double the land revenue rate payable to the
GovemmenL Besides, fifty-six women reapers were engaged during the
season, their total wage-bill amounting to Rs 7.88, i.e., 2.25 annas
per reaper.81 In most parts of Assam Proper excepting Kamrup, even
women of Brahman and other high-caste families generally took part in
sowing and transplanting and to a lesser degree also in reaping. For
menfolk of these castes ploughing was not socially permitted, but
many other agricultural operations were.
T en a n try
Tenancy as a form of labour had pre-British origins, since the State

permanently assigned sections of the subject population to render
henceforth their services to land grantees instead of to the State. At the
same time, many slaves were gradually transformed into serfs and then,
in due course, into tenants-at-will. The lingering Civil War (1770-
1806) and the chaos of the Burmese incursions (1817-25) intensified
this transformation process. After the British conquest, therefore, large
bodies of tenants were found mostly in compact blocks in the
surviving landed estates ; they were paying rent in one form or other to
their landlords. For instance, two estates—one held by a Brahman
preceptor and another by a temple—accounted between them for no less
than a thousand tenants in 1883.82
TABLE 11.4
Classification o f Agricultural Population in Assam
PROPER : 1891 (Dependants inclusive)
1 2 3 4 5 6
•
Persons holding land directly Tenants, (i.e., persons renting Occupying land, Farm Field Total
District from Government (including land from lease holders) but status un servants labour
(as of 1891) privileged tenure holders) specified
Cultivating Non-cultivating Cultivating* Non-Cultivating
Kamrup 384,528 8,108 77,162 (15.7) 521 18,819 3,009 368 492,515
Darrang 213,484 2,392 ' 8,314 ( 3.7) 14 2,115 352 30 226,701
Nowgong 278,022 218 3,322 ( 1.2) 61 8,620 255 49 290,547
Sibsagar 285,784 520 9,838 ( 3.3) 14 2,167 119 86 298,528
Lakhimpur 134,980 87 1,592 ( 1.1) 1 11,629 131 99 148,519
1,296,798(89.0) 11,325 (0.8) 100,228 ( 6.9) 611 43,350 (3.0) 3,866 (0.3) 632 1,456,810(100)
♦Bracketed percentage figures in Col. 2 show the share of the cultivating tenants in the relevant total agricultural populations.
SOURCE : Processed from E.A. Gait, Census o f India, 1891 Assam, Part II (104) Table XVII, pp. 318-19. Plantation workers and their
dependants were not included in this agricultural population.
Originally such tenants owed labour services and/or payments in

kind to their landlords. In due course, particularly in the period of rapid
monetization in the nineteenth century, these obligations were largely
converted into their money equivalents. This was facilitated, amongst
others, by two factors. First, the rate-paying section of the landlords
had themselves to pay their dues to the Government in cash and,
secondly, landlords in general needed cash also for other purposes like
consumption of newly-introduced manufactured goods and for their
children's education. Realization of rent in the form of cash was
particularly convenient for absentee landlords. The growing
administrative towns with new job facilities were attracting many
such landlords. By the 1880s therefore, almost all the tenants were
found paying a cash rent supplemented by token services and payments
in kind. Share-cropping or produce-rent (adhi) prevailed only to a
marginal extent and that too only in the case of rupil lands in densely-
populated tracts where such lands were valuable.
It is somewhat puzzling that despite conditions of land abundance
the incidence of tenancy was on the increase during the British period.
This was however due to a complex causation. A tendency towards
accumulation of leases in the hands of those who had ready money,
such as pleaders and government servants was observed in the vicinities
of towns as early as 1888. They needed tenants.83 Middlemen like
Mauzadars also found tenancy convcninent for getting their newly
acquired lands cultivated. Liberated slaves, runaway tea garden coolies
and dispossessed indebted peasants were amongst those who welcomed
such rehabilitation on tenancy terms. Besides, as Dhekial-Phukan and
Mills had noted, many ryots were in the habit of making fictitious
transfer of their pottahs to influential middlemen whom they
themselves chose as their patrons with the Government's connivance.
Their purpose in doing so was to avoid facing the rapacious tax-
gatherers direcdy. The same phenomenon was noted also by Darrah in
1888. In that process of commendation, some ryots were gradually
reduced to the status of tenants, and their patrons were transformed into
Khatdars and Chamuadars.84 There were other instances of how the
Government complicated matters. Privileged landholders were at one
time encouraged to make their estates compact by exchanging with the
Government some of their outlying plots and, in that bargain,
erstwhile Government ryots lost their well-recognized occupancy rights
to become landlords' tenants-at-will.85
As to the extent of tenancy, no data are available for the period
prior to the 1880s. The cadastral survey operations of 1883-93
'ascertained that about 18 per cent of the settled area' was leased out in
the then district of Kamrup but in no other district it exceeded 6 per

cent.'86 At the end of the century the proportion of leased-out to total
settled area was officially estimated at about 25 per cent for Kamrup, 9
per cent for Darrang and 7 per cent for Sibsagar. It remained still below
6 per cent in Nowgong and Lakhimpur. The number of tenants
including dependants, as recorded by the authorities in the latter four
districts, increased from 23,128 in 1891 to 49,662 by 1901. For
Kamrup the relevant number in 1891 was 77,683, but we have no
comparable figure for any subsequent date. All these data lack precision
and were perhaps not exhaustive, because of administrative failings on
the part of the enquiring authorities.77 Nevertheless they are adequate
for indicating the trend. In more populous and more landlord-infested
Kamrup the number of tenants and their working dependants could
perhaps be roughly estimated at no less than a lakh and a half around
1901. In 1891 the tenants and their dependants constituted 16 per cent
of the agricultural population of Kamrup, while this share was one per
cent in Lakhimpur and less than 4 per cent in any other district (see
Table 11.4).
The aforesaid data also establish the fact that tenancy arrangements
were made in most cases under the Chukani system, i.e. on the basis
of a cash rent. Of the total leased-out area in the individual districts, 98
per cent in Lakhimpur, 90 per cent in Darrang and 89 per cent in
Nowgong related to the Chukani form of tenancy, while the
corresponding percentage shares accounted for by the Adhi or produce-
sharing system were about 2, 10 and 11 per cent respectively in these
districts.88 Even in Kamrup and Sibsagar, the Chukani or cash rent
continued to be the predominant form of tenant obligations. One
variant of the system was Khandua, i.e., leasing-out for one crop
season only. This was generally practised oil a petty scale by peasants
who, for one reason or other, were not in a position to cultivate all
their lands in a particular year or season.89
Another significant fact that was highlighted again and again by
British officials on the spot was that the money rates oi rent did not
usually exceed the Government Khiraj rates, except in the case of
valuable lands.90 A margin was therefore left to the concerned rent-
receiving landlords only when they held land either revenue-free or at
half rates. In other words, usually the Lakhirajdars and Nisfkhirajdars
alone enjoyed such a margin, and not the Chamuadars and Khatdars.
The latter were, in some cases, compensated with a 10 per cent
commission on the revenue collection. In such cases they paid their
land revenue directly to the Government and not through any Mauzadar.
However there were other gains for all of them. Land was not
infrequently measured by the landlord with a shorter rod than what was
standard ; this in itself could have yielded a 25 to 30 per cent gain.
Chukani tenants were often called upon to pay various cesses such as
salami from eight annas to two rupees, camp expenses or baha-
kharach amounting to some six annas, puja and wedding expenses,
etc., which went to swell the normal rent dues. As a matter of
longstanding convention, the tenants had also to provide labour
services at call and beckon or for a stipulated number of days in the
year. The Assam Administration Report for the year 1882-83 summed
up the situation as follows.
Landholders' profit consists in working of his own home farm lands and
in the command of his tenants' services for supplies, carriage and
'housebuilding' and for repairing and harvesting crops in his home farm,
and in such occasional contributions as he is able to levy.91
Until the end of the nineteenth century the adhi system was of
marginal importance in Assam Proper excepting for Kamrup. Though
not a major form of rent payment even in the latter district, its
incidence was nonetheless found to be "considerable" by Darrah. There
were variations in the operation of the system from district to district.
Nevertheless, the essential features of the adhi system could be
generalized as follows. First, no extra payments in kind or cash over
and above the stipulated produce-share were generally called for.
Secondly, the system was generally associated with only the rupit
variety of land. For productive wet lands alone could be leased out on
adhi terms. Payment of Government revenue remaining the landlord's
responsibility, the principle of half shares was implemented with
modifications varying according to such circumstances as soil fertility
and respective contributions of the two parties involved. Consequendy,
five distinct forms of produce-sharing were there:
(i) boka-adhi or division of the field in equal parts after the tenant had
cultivated the land up to the stage of puddling, each party taking
charge of its part thereafter ;
(ii) gachch-adhi or equal division of the standing crop on the fields, each
party reaping and transporting its own share ;
(Hi) dai-adhi or equal division of the harvested bundles, each party threshing
and transporting its own share ;
(iv) guti-adhi or equal division of the threshed grain, each party taking
thereafter its own share; and
(v) chukti-adhi (thika-adhi) or the handing over to the landlord of a fixed
quantum of grain.92
Clearly, the last-mentioned form of crop-sharing resembled the
Chukani rather than the adhi in the matter of the fixity of the renL
AGRARIAN STRUCTURES IN THE LATE'NINETEENTH CENTURY 259
In practice, the rent burden under different forms of adhi tended to be

the same as under the chukani form, through adjustments like
landlords’ contributions towards seeds or transplantation costs or both.
The resultant real difference was not therefore always as great as it
appeared to be. All rent payments, whether at rates equivalent to or
double the Government rates, or at half the gross produce, were
complicated also by such factors as loans to be realized during the
tenancy period, the landlord’s contribution towards bullock power in
use and, in the case of privileged estates, survivals of old feudal
practices. Under the circumstances, both chukani and adhi tenants were
often pushed more or less to the verge of the subsistence level or
below it.
As the paddy price and the demand for good lands were rising, lease
terms under both the systems tended to be more and more stringent
over the years. In thickly populated tracts—such as Khata and West
Banghag in Kamrup, Sipajhar in Darrang, Chalchali in Nowgong and
Morabazar in Sibsagar—and in areas close to towns and ex-tea garden
coolies’ setüements, lands were often leased out at two to three rupees
a bigha, or at two to five times the Government rates. Ex-tea garden
coolies, in particular, were among the highest rate payers. They
preferred to settle down near tea gardens, so that they aauld supplement
their farm incomes with wages earned as casual and seasonal plantation
workers. For them it was more economic to pay high rents than
moving out to distant government wastelands.93
Whether operating one plough or more, the full tenants were worse
off than the owner-cultivators on two counts. First, they had more
often than not a bigger rent burden to bear (in cash and kind put
together) and secondly, they lacked occupancy and transfer rights.
Concentrated as they were in compact blocks in big landholders’
estates, the bulk of the tenantry constituted a dependent peasantry.
Amongst extra-economic means that obliged them to submit to their
landlords' exactions were the weight of custom and religious ties.
Those who were only part-tenants and who leased land from small
landholders were relatively free, provided they were not in debt
bondage.
The 1888 data furnish us with examples of two fairly independent
tenants in contrasting economic positions. Pura Bar Kalita, 25, head of
a 5-member family of Pub-Sitara village in mauza Panduri of Kamrup,
owned 17 bighas of non-rupit land. From three different sources he also
leased three, twelve, and eight bighas of rupit land, paying rents
equivalent to Government Khiraj rates for the first two lots and half
produce for the third lot. The two last-mentioned lots, i.e., 20 bighas
in all, or half of his operational holding, were taken from a

Nisfkhirajdar. Pura had two pairs of plough bullocks, but one he had
lost very recently due to cattle disease. Until recently he also had a boy
servant serving him in debt bondage. These and other details suggest
that Pura was rightly described as "fairly well-to-do” by Darrah who
visited him on 17 April 1888. Pura borrowed Rs. 60 (part from a
relative and part from a Marwari) interest-free and, at the same time,
lent to a fellow tribal peasant a sum of Rs. 20 on interest at the usual
rate of one anna per month per rupee. These facts also indicate Pura's
viability. The land revenue and cash rent he paid, together accounted for
more than one-fifth of his estimated cash requirements amounting to
Rs. 101.94
Gopal Katani, 28, head of a 3-member family in Teliagaon village
of Nowgong, had neither land of his own nor cattle. He leased in seven
bighas of non-rupit land from private landholders at rents equivalent to
G overnm ent Khiraj rates and had just broken up two bighas of
Government virgin land for an annual settlement. He had to cultivate
these lands with borrowed bullocks on marakiya terms. Under such
circumstances, it was difficult for him to meet his cash requirements,
the rent alone amounting to Rs. 6. He had even to borrow two maunds
of paddy for consumption. One way of earning extra cash for him was
to cut fuel-wood and thatching-grass in the forest for sale in a
neighbouring town. Both Pura and Gopal were tenants. But the former
had still some potentiality of growing into a rich peasant if
circumstances so favoured, while the latter was on a precarious margin
of existence with two bare meals a day.95
Regardless of whether their landlords were big or small,
institutional or otherwise, no tenant enjoyed any kind of legal rights of
occupancy and transfer over the lands they tilled. They were mere
tenants-at-will protected to some extent only by custom, and they
remained so all over Assam Proper until the Assam (Temporarily
Settled Districts) Tenancy Act, 1935 came into force in 1937. How
was it that under such conditions, the tenants accepted the burdens of
rent rather than moving out to the virgin lands that were available
within a reasonable distance at relatively cheaper rates ? The official
explanation was that peasants opted for tenancy often because of
habitual indolence. They did not supposedly like to undertake the
troubles of timely marketing their crops for paying the two date-bound
land revenue instalments, or of keeping records, which hazards were
incidental to ryotwari landholdings. The inadequacy of this explanation
is obvious. The relevant point to note is that rupit lands in particular
were not in abundant supply. Available wastelands in their natural
conditions were all of the non-rupit variety, and these could sometimes
be converted into rupit land only by human enterprise. Even the
reclamation of jungle-infested lands for cultivation, not to speak of
their conversion into rupit, needed some investment. In fact large-scale
reclamation became feasible and viable only after 1911 when the means
of communication and the conditions of supply of labour and rural
credit had substantially improved. By then, however., there had
appeared other competitors on the scene—the immigrant peasants from
East Bengal who were competent for the job.96 Yet another point to
note is that those tahsils and mauzas where the incidence of tenancy
was high were also areas of high population density.
Other factors impeding the mobility of the Assamese tenantry were
the debt bondage and the religious ties they had with their landlords,
many of whom represented the temples and monasteries. Besides, the
patron-client relationship often gave a feeling of security to the tenant
against all other odds, a security which was not there for the small
landholding peasant. Some peasants preferred security in bondage to
freedom with insecurity.
It is often asked why the tenants and other poor peasants did not
move out for wage employment into the neighbouring tea gardens.
Obviously, the income differential, if any, and die conditions of service
offered by the plantations were not found sufficiently attractive or
congenial. Throughout our period, a few thousands of Assamese
peasants did go out to work in the plantations, but only at a wage rate
higher than what the indentured coolie received. They tended to quit the
plantations at the approach of the sowing season or after they had saved
a little to go back to their old vocations. Under the circumstances,
there was no reason why the Assamese peasants would continue to be
sought after by the planters. The latter were interested in getting much
cheaper and more controllable labour from outside the province.
Tenancy was also extended through the settlement of out-of-contract
ex-plantation labourers on surplus wastelands privately held by the
planters and other landholders. Some plantation workers whose names
were still on the muster rolls were also given plots of land for
cultivation by their employers. By leasing out land in these ways the
planters received not only a small extra income but also the advantage
of a tighter control over their labour supply.97 The Government of
India appreciated this fact and thought of exempting the tea planters
when in the 1890s they proposed measures to check the growing
practice of subletting in Assam as a matter of general policy.98 In their
letter of 17 September 1895 to the Chief Commissioner, Assam, the
Government of India ordered that "the settlement in case of ordinary
cultivation should be not only in the first instance, but always with
the cultivator and should never include more land than he can and does
cultivate himself." By their letter of 14 January 1896, they further
approved of a three-point executive line of action in this respect: (i)
that wasteland grants were not to be made unless the applicants
intended to cultivate themselves, (ii) that annual settlement-holders
were to be excluded from the next settlement, if they were found guilty
of subletting, and (iii) that the rules of decennial leases be amended so
as to prohibit subletting without special permission. The Secretary to
the Government of India reiterated, vide his letter of 2 June 1897, that
all wastelands settled for special cultivation were outside the scope of
the proposed restrictions on subletting.
Ultimately however, in the face of stiff opposition from the local
administration and public opinion, the Government of India agreed in
January 1899 to shelve the matter. Subletting continued in practice,
but that of surplus plantation lands came into prominence only during
the next century.
S o c ia l D if fe r e n t ia t io n : It s n a t u r e
Differentiation in the nineteenth century Assamese agrarian society

did not proceed far. The secondary and tertiary sectors of its economy
continued to provide livelihood to only a small proportion of the
population. This was evident from the pattern of population
distribution over the broad occupational classes of the 1891 Census.
According to this Census, as much as 85 per cent of the population in
the Brahmaputra Valley (i.e., Assam Proper and Goalpara) subsisted on
agriculture (pasturing inclusive), while the corresponding figure for the
two Bengali-speaking districts (Sylhet and Cachar) in the Surma Valley
was 70 per cent. In other words, the proportion of people supported by
the non-agricultural sectors in the Brahmaputra Valley was only 15 per
cent or just half of what prevailed in the Province's Bengali-speaking
region."
Even this sectoral breakdown did not adequately reflect the rusticity
of the Assamese society of the time. One-third to one-half of the
persons included in the non-agricultural sectors were partly dependent
for their subsistence upon agriculture. Similarly, most of the
agricultural households too were partly dependent for their living on
handicrafts. If this was the situation, the little urbanization that had
taken place was obviously not worth its name. Persons living in
towns with a population of 5,000 and above constituted hardly 2 per
cent of the population of Assam Proper at any time during the
nineteenth century. Such towns numbered three during 1872-81, four
in 1891 and five in 1901. None of these towns had at any time a
population exceeding 14,000 ; and all these together hardly had a
population exceeding 36,000. The so-called towns were still largely
overgrown villages with the responsibility of policing the
neighbourhoods. There was no urbanizing trend despite considerable
colonial investments in tea, light railways, steamerways, coal, oil and
saw mills within the region. This was due to the fact that the
developing industries were of an extractive nature and therefore had
only limited spread effects.100
Immigrants from outside the region outnumbered the autochthones
within the urban population. Hence, even this stunted process of
urbanization and industrialization under colonial rule mostly touched
the immigrant population. So far as the indigenous people were
concerned, they too faced a change. Local peasant and artisan
handicrafts were being steadily pushed out by imported manufactures.
High mortality unchecked by health measures was another depressing
factor. Within the region's slowly rising population—from 1496
thousands in 1872 to 2157 thousands in 1901 (Table 11.1 above)—the
indigenous component was decreasing, while the number of
immigrants went on increasing all the time in both absolute and
relative terms.101 The lingering black fever (kala-azar) epidemic since
1888 and the high immigration rate, between them, caused this shift in
the population composition.
The consumption of mill-made goods in the region began to
increase rapidly, particularly after 1880, as is evident from the available
data on the rail and river-borne trade. For instance, the inflow of cotton
twist and yam into the Brahmaputra Valley—two-thirds of this of
European manufacture—increased from 5,106 maunds in 1883-84 to
17,230 maunds in 1889-90 and 21,148 maunds in 1895-96. The value
of piece-goods brought from outside into the Valley, on the other hand,
meanwhile increased from Rs 12 lakh, to Rs. 30 lakh in 1889-90 and
to Rs. 49 lakh in 1895-96. These piece-goods were entirely of
European manufacture in the initial years. Even as late as 1889-90,
e.g., 43,010 maunds of these incoming piece-goods were of European,
and only 146 maunds of Indian manufacture. By 1895-96, the total
supply of such mill-made piece-goods to the Brahmaputra Valley
increased to 67,289 maunds.102 In terms of yardage, this might be
estimated at some 22 million yards or about 9 yards per head of
population. That the local handloom production was considerably
affected by the imports is therefore obvious. Much more rapid was the
decline in spinning, since the handlooms which were still active were
increasingly resorting to the use of machine yam. Per capita
consumption of handloom cloth woven locally from mill yam could be

estimated at about 2.8 yards for the year 1895-96.103
Had there been adequate public investments on the lines earlier
suggested by Dhekial-Phukan, the decline of weaving and spinning in
peasant households could have in the long run increased the scope of
occupational specialization and, hence, also the efficiency of peasant
cultivation. But no such investments were made. On the contrary, the
traditional centres of artisan production were allowed to decay. The gold
and silver filigree work of Barpeta town, the sericulture and silk-
weaving industry of Sualkuchi village and the bell-metal industry of
Sarthebari village—none of these received adequate encouragement
from the State. This was so despite the wide acceptance of the view
that new skills needed to be formed for the survival of these craft
centres. David Scott, for instance, had pointed out as early as 1831 that
technical education at public cost should be the first step towards
creating an export potential in the region.104
While expressing a similar concern for technical education,
Dhekial-Phukan made yet another significant point in 1853. 'No
permanent advancement in agriculture could be effected', he said, 'until
the people are relieved from the necessity of relying on a foreign
country for the requisite implements of husbandry.' He envisaged in
clear terms that agriculture without industrialization had no future. 'No
nation can secure to itself the blessings and comforts of civilized life,'
he argued, 'until it had manufactures of its own ; and, in short, no
country can rise to wealth or importance that is deficient or imperfectly
versed in the art of manufacture.'105 Thirty-two years later, Balinarayan
Bora (1852-1927), also a moderate like Dhekial-Phukan in his political
views, harped on the same theme when he wrote:
If we have suffered any loss through the British rule, it is in the field of
our indigenous industries. These have nearly become extinct... As a
matter of fact, the chief want of this country is industries. No country
has ever become great, or a nation, solely through the exercise of
intellectual faculties.106
For Bora too technical education was important since, 'the industries
would flourish if the trades of the carpenter, the blacksmith, bell-metal
worker, the brazier, the potter etc., are demonstrated and taught.'107
Scott, Dhekial-Phukan and Bora—each of them was differently
motivated. Yet they all recommended the erection of modem production
techniques on the existing base of traditional manual processes. Solid
progress could only occur, they thought, when linked with the local
technological base. They also believed that the state had a role to play
in this respect. The policy-makers were hardly influenced by such
intellectual pressures. To the utter neglect of the old crafts and
husbandry, their public finance was almost exclusively geared to

developing and benefiting the tea industry and its infrastructure.
Once the policy of proletarianizing the Assamese peasantry to
ensure local supply of cheap wage labour to the planters had visibly
failed, the Raj was bent upon creating a 'modem' sector with almost all
the inputs, including labour brought in from outside the Province.
The resultant economic growth therefore largely by-passed the peasant
society. Thomas Welsh had reported from his camp in Assam Proper
in 1794 that rice was produced 'in very great abundance' there and that
’a scarcity had never been known to happen from natural causes.' There
was even an export potential, he thought, which could be drawn upon
in times of famines in Bengal.10* Yet during the second half of the
nineteenth century, the Brahmaputra Valley was converted into a net
rice-importing region ; and, despite steadily increasing rice imports,
acute scarcities leading to starvation deaths were reported from certain
areas in 1851, 1858 and 1896.109
While London and Calcutta-based British monopoly houses
controlled the region's modem industrial sector, Marwari merchant
capital established its octopus-like grip over the expanding network of
internal trade that linked this important hinterland with the port city of
Calcutta. A few native-born Assamese were no doubt there in trade—
some of them were new entrants—but their existence was just
marginal. Reported an official observer in 1888.
The trading community chiefly consists of Europeans, Bengali
shopkeepers chiefly from Dacca and Marwari merchants. The last-
mentior.ed is the most numerous and influential class, with the
exception, of course, of the tea planters... .
The Marwari traders...are to be found in almost every important
village. They keep supplies of salt, cotton twist and piece-goods, brass
vessels, undrained sugar etc. and exchange these commodities for
money, but more generally for paddy, rice, mustard, silk cocoons, silk
thread and silk cloth. When required they make advances to the
cultivators, and the rate of interest charged is usually one anna per rupee
per month or 75 per cent. But these advances are by no means common
as the Assamese prefer apparently to borrow from each other.110
In the wake of the monetization and merchant capital penetration,
the number of money-lenders and credit-advancing village shop-keepers
was presumably increasing. Yet they were not many till 1891. If the
Census of 1891 is to be believed, there were—dependants inclusive—
only 1,519 persons who were supported by money-lending (of them
1,211 in Kamrup alone) as their main occupation and also not many
supported by petty shop-keeping in Assam Proper in that year. The
total number found in the Commerce sector (i.e., persons engaged in
activities relating to commerce, money-lending, transport and storage
and their dependants) was 22,178 of whom 9,390 or 41 per cent were
concentrated in Kamrup. Out of the 9,801 money-lenders and their
dependants in the Province of Assam in 1891, 7,902 were in the
Surma Valley, 1,793 in the Brahmaputra Valley and 106 in the hills
districts. These figures do not cover other persons who also supplied
credit, but did not have money-lending as their main occupation.111
As the peasant economy lacked internal dynamics, the demand for
agricultural credit as such remained modest. Such credit was mostly
forthcoming from relatively more solvent members of the peasantry
and from landlords on customary terms. However, the Marwari trader-
banker, too, had meanwhile firmly established himself. Credit was
generally extended not on the mortgage of land, but of the standing
crop or of the debtor's own labour-power. This was so because land in
most cases had no value.
Mustard-seed remained practically the sole cash crop after the
cultivation of opium was prohibited in 1860. The proportion of gross
cultivated acreage that was under mustard crop in the peasant sector
fluctuated within the range of 6 to 10 per cent. It was a crop that could
be produced and disposed off easily. A flourishing inter-regional trade
in this crop was a legacy of the medieval times. It continued to remain
largely in the hands of the peasant traders of Kamrup until they also
began to be subordinated to Marwari merchant capital after Assam was
firmly put on India's railway map by 1905-11. Their retreat from the
trade since then was only a matter of time.112
As land revenue had to be paid in two instalments—one in October
and another in January (later, December and February respectively)—
when the mustard crop was still standing in the Held, poor peasants had
often to borrow from the traders by pledging delivery of their harvested
crop at pre-fixed prices. It is interesting to note that a sizeable part of
the mustard-seed output did not enter into local consumption but was
sold outside the valley, while vegetable oil (mustard oil, chiefly) was
regularly imported from the rest of India.113 This happened because the
local oil-extraction technology was by and large primitive, and it made
no use of the cattle-powered mill (ghani). The mustard plant
cultivation was so dependent on the vagaries of weather and therefore
so insecure that the peasant hardly took any particular care of i t It
continued to be largely on the basis of slash-and-bum and fallowing
methods on faringati lands. It gave the peasant practically no scope for
introducing improvements, though mustard-seed was a major cash
crop.
Nor were the property relations built over the years under review
congenial to productive capital accumulation. A major part of the
surplus extracted from the peasant sector accumulated in the hands of

the Government. Another part of the surplus realized in the form of
usurious interest, on the whole, augmented the immigrant merchant
capital—mostly that of the Marwaris. Neither the Government nor the
merchants, however, did anything to improve agriculture.
The smaller and residual part of the surplus that accrued to the rural
rich was indeed too small and dissipated for meaningful investments in
agriculture. The amount of land a man held, whether directly from the
Government or in his own right (la-khiraj), was no sure indication of
his pecuniary condition. Since most lands had no market value, a big
landholder might at the same time be extremely capital-poor. No
development of productive forces was therefore visible within the
peasant sector. This is why there was a continued net inflow of rice,
betel-nuts, edible oil, gur and other food-stuffs from the rest of India
into land-abundant Assam Proper throughout the late nineteenth
century. In other words, the increasing demand from a rising tea
industry and concomitant overall population rise failed to boost peasant
production.
The surplus accruing to the rural rich only sufficed to maintain
their higher than average standard of living. If there was 'no danger of
their falling below their present condition of rural respectability,'
because of high fertility of the soil, there was 'no prospect of their ever
rising above it' either. This was how Sir Henry Cotton, the liberal
Chief Commissioner of Assam, assessed the situation in his note dated
24 September 1898 to the Government of India.114
Under the circumstances, the landed gentry and, later, also the upper
strata of the peasantry increasingly looked forward for their sons to new
openings like professions and salaried jobs, rather than to the
promotion of productive cultivation. Those who had ventured into trade
or tea cultivation from time to time burnt their fingers too quickly and
quit these fields. A few who survived persisted as hangers-on and
adjuncts of their European patrons. They learnt to live with
humiliation at the edge of the economic empire the foreign capitalists
built. It was mainly the landed gentry and, to some extent, also the
upper strata of the peasantry that formed the seed-plot of the new
Assamese middle class— new because of its orientation to western
education and colonial collaboration.
The promotion of a rural middle class of moderate means on the
basis of rent collection and petty agriculture within the given colonial
set-up— no matter however idolized by Dhekial-Phukan—was a
misnomer in terms. The colonial policy-makers accepted the idea. But
how could they fulfil the other pre-conditions that Dhekial-Phukan had
laid down as necessary for its success ? How could the alien state play
a positive role that was wishfully expccted of it, in the matter of
industrialization in particular ? What followed therefore was a
disastrous caricature of Dhekial-Phukan's recommended programme.
There was no upliftment of agriculture and artisan crafts, and the new
middle class that emerged remained a ricketty one. Towards the close of
the century, Cotton, an admirer since 1867 of Comte's positivism and
at the same time also of Bengal's landed aristocracy, found the
Assamese converted into
a people of petty agriculturists reduced to one dead level of a peasant
proletariat, with no substantial middle class such as forms the backbone
of the nation in more favoured countries and no upper class on whom
they can lean for guidance and assistance during an emergency115
[emphasis added].
Cotton blamed the ryotwari system in operation for its failure to
promote a viable middle class through the provision of opportunities
of subletting and concluded that the absence of such an indigenous
class was at the root of the social stagnation and decay. For
...the Administration is compelled to fall back for its requirement in
large measure on the middle class population of the Surma Valley and
Bengal...Capital does not exist...each man cultivates as much as he
requires for his own needs and no more. There is no healthy increase of
population, no material extension of agriculture, no development of
trade, no flow of enterprise and it is needless to add, no accumulation of
wealth.116
Cotton's liberalism and positivism did not help him discover the
basic malady that lay in the inherent role of the colonial State. Rather,
he found fault with the small property of the ryotwari settlement and,
in course of his controversy with the Government of India, called for a
reversal of the policy in the area of wastelands settlement. Assam
needed, according to him, a more substantial class of landed
intermediaries than it already had. Such a middle class could be
promoted, he thought, by allowing unrestricted subletting rights to all
landholding ryots and by settling wastelands with such men of capital
as were capable of attracting tenants mostly from outside the region.
His Colonization Scheme however did not find favour with the
Government of India, then headed by Curzon. At the most they were
ready for a small and cautious experiment. For they thought that the
tea industry 'is already doing and ultimately will do much more, in the
course of the next ten years, to colonize Assam than any capitalist who
may be attracted under the proposed colonization scheme.' Besides, they
apprehended that if the intention was to create a residential aristocracy
by inviting wealthy middlemen from outside the province, there was
every possibility of their turning into absentee landlords. Cotton’s
arguments for a big scheme of zamindari colonization was therefore

rejected on this ground.117 The deeper reason behind this rejection was
the fear that co-existence with such a substantial Indian aristocracy in
the rural areas would not be acceptable to the European planters. For,
any largescale settlement of tenants on wastelands for ordinary
cultivation under any scheme, would have surely affected the labour
supply to the plantations.
The Government of India soon had to concede that the current
practice of subletting by the ryots should not be restricted forthwith.
Such restrictions had been agreed to in principle by Cotton's
predecessor, and draft rules had been published in the Assam Gazette in
November 1896 with a view to amending the Assam Land and
Revenue Regulations of 1886 on these lines. The Assamese middle
class reacted sharply. Several organizations, such as the Upper Assam
Raiyats' Association, the Jorhat Sarvajanik Sabha and the Committee
for Assam Conference, spearheaded a constitutional agitation against
the proposed restrictions. Because of this adverse public opinion and
Cotton's principled opposition, the Government of India agreed in
January 1899 to shelve the matter.118 Public apprehensions, however,
were not removed thereby. When Curzon came on a visit to Assam in
1900, one of the major demands voiced there related to this question of
subletting. In course of a public address presented to him, it was said :
It seems to us that the Assamese ryots hardly derived any benefits from
the direct settlement of land on short leases and that no extension of
cultivation has been possible through such a measure in Assam. We
believe that if long-term settlements are introduced without at the same
time, enhancing the revenue rates and also with the right of subletting
maintained in tact, the present miserable conditions of the Assamese
ryots would be largely ameliorated [translated from the Assamese text].
Extension of the existing term of land settlement, a halt to further
enhancement of land revenue rates, unrestricted subletting rights and
representation in the Indian Legislature—these w o e the four important
demands the frustrated Assamese middle class preferred to place before
the Viceroy at the threshold of the present century.119 Unlike their
predecessors, some of them even began to uphold the Bengal zamindary
system as a model for Assam. 'If it is politically important to preserve
from extinction the comparatively small class of zamindars almost all
over India,' argued Jagannath Barua, President of the Jorhat Sarvajanik
Sabha, in a memorial to the Chief Commissioner dated 14 March
1897,
it is of vital importance to preserve and to allow the formation of a
much larger middle class, who in every country in the world always lead
the van of progress, enter the learned professions, direct the commerce
and trade of the country, man the civil and military services, cultivate
the arts and sciences, and, in point of fact, are the leaders of society. It
is this middle class, the large number of tenureholders intermediate
between the zamindars and the cultivating raiyats, who have made all
the progress that has been made in Bengal...1"
Thus an ideology emerged in Assam that found merit in the system of
subletting land as an institution that would preserve and nurture the so-
called 'progressive' landed class against all odds.
S o m e T e n t a t iv e C o n c l u sio n s
The temporary ryotwari settlement of Assam Proper nurtured a

numerous class of peasant proprietors and, alongside of it, also a much
smaller class of landed middlemen of superior status and means so that
the former could look forward for guidance to the latter in their mutual
efforts at improving agriculture.
Landlords, self-employed peasant proprietors and the tenantry—
these were the three broad social classes identifiable within the peasant
sector on the basis of the production relations. Some peasant
proprietors, who also employed wage labour, did so only casually and
to a marginal extenL Consciousness of belonging to distinct classes,
however, was at a low level. This often permitted the grouping of the
first two categories under the common label of 'ryot'. On the other
hand, no open class conflicts between the landlords and their landless
tenants were yet visible within the largely custom-determined society.
Nor were tenants and peasant proprietors distinctly separate like water
tight compartments ; quite a large number of them were partly both.
There was as yet no agricultural labour class as such despite the
employment of bonded and flee casual labour td some degree. Such a
class was still in the process of formation from amongst the poor
peasants and out-of-contract tea garden coolies. It appears from the
1891 census figures that, together with dependants, the landlords (non
cultivating proprietors) constituted 0.8 per cent, the peasants
(cultivating proprietors) 89 per cent, the tenants 7 per cent and the farm
servants and field labourers 0.3 per cent of the total agricultural
population. About 3 per cent of the total population could not be put
under any of these specified categories (see Tdble 11.4). Obviously
some of this last category too were field labourers. Finally, the
Assamese middle class, even when town-dwelling, was integrally a part
of the peasant society. It emerged largely from the landlord class and
marginally also from the upper strata of the peasantry. By and large it
continued to enjoy, amongst other sources of income, also a rent
income and uncertain profit from cultivation to a small extent.
Given all the constraints of a colonial situation as well as a semi-

tribal, semi-feudal legacy, the ryotwari system did not yield the results
wishfully expected of iL Neither the landlord elements nor the peasants
emerged as enterprising producers. Under the system not enough
surplus was left to them for fructification in agriculture. Nor was any
other productive avenue left open for them, given the British
monopoly domination in industries and Marwari domination in trade.
The only avenue open before them was investment in education of
their children so that they could be transformed into human capital.
Hence with one foot in land, they set the other foot on the threshold of
salaried jobs and professions.
However, here too the openings were extremely limited and
competition from immigrating aspirants from other provinces keen.
The Assamese middle class, given its largely high-caste and
landholding background, found its land nexus too precious to sever. It
needed a foothold in land as a measure of security against all odds one
faced in service or professions or in occasional entrepreneurial ventures
on a petty scale. Such odds or uncertainties largely stemmed from the
dependence on colonial patronage. It was therefore natural that the class
would clamour for an unrestricted right of subletting and tenant
exploitation, for a halt to further tax enhancements, for long-term land
settlements and for representation in the legislative bodies.
The Assamese middle class also increasingly felt the need for a
wider social base for the organizations it set up to voice these demands
during the last two decades of the nineteenth century. These
organizations were the Jorhat Sarvajanik Sabha, the Tezpur Ryot
Sabha, the Nowgong Ryot Association and the Upper Assam Raiyats'
Association. The Assam Association, with a Valleÿ-wide jurisdiction,
was founded in 1903, althought sporadic attempts at forming such an
association with the same name started nearly two decades earlier.
While speaking for itself, the Assamese middle class always tried to
speak also for the entire landed peasantry (however faltering its
language might have been) from one and the same platform. It was
possible to do so, since most of the demands were common. However,
whenever the peasantry was roused to action and they gave a militant
turn to the agitation against imperialism, the middle class leaders
vacillated and parted company half way. Their anti-imperialist
propensities were nevertheless there. Their constitutional agitations
contributed to preparing the ground for anti-imperialist mass upsurges
like the raij mel movement of 1893-94. Seeds of a militant
nationalism for this were not altogether lacking in the 1890s ; only
their germination awaited a more opportune climate yet to be ushered
in by intensified struggles of the toiling people. Vacillations and

compromising attitudes remained meanwhile inherent characteristics of
the class, linked as it was by and large with the feudal modes of
exploitation and culture.121 All said, the outlook of the Assamese
middle class and for that matter also of the peasantry remained
’ambiguous or sterile because their existence is not based exclusively
on their role in the capitalist system of production, but is indissolubly
linked with the vestiges of the feudal society.' In the words of George
Lukács in another context, their aim was 'not to advance capitalism or
transcend it, but to reverse its action or at least to prevent it from
developing fully.'122 Incidentally, this was also what colonialism aimed
at. To concludc, the Assamese m iddle class remained by and large petti-
bourgeois in composition and character. For even the land-intensive tea
industry, in which a few Assamese families were marginally involved,
hardly represented a capitalist system of production, despite
employment of wage-labour on a considerable scale. Mechanization
played an insignificant role in this industry, more so in its Indian
sector, and the wage-labour was unfiree under the indenture system and
exposed to various modes of feudal exploitation.
N otes
1. Gait, A History o f Assam...[ 149], 239-42 ; Robinson, A Descriptive Account of
A ssam ..\ 183], 199-205.
2. Sources as above and Guha, "Medieval economy of Assam", Cambridge
Economic History, Vol. 1, [160], 478-505.
3. Baden-Powell, The Land Systems o f British India, Vol. 3 [75], 402-15. The
planters owned inter alia altogether182,366 acres of wastelands in Assam Proper
on fee-simple terms in 1896-97. The purchase money they had paid to the Govt,
of Assam for these lands amounted to Rs. 936,745. -Land Rev. Adm. Rep. o f
the Assam Valley Districts, 1897-98 [44], 69.
4. Dhekial-Phukan, "Observations on the administration of the province of Assam"
in Mills, Report o f the Province o f Assam [66], appendix J, xxxii ff.
5. Mills, Report on the Province...[66], 8-10.
6. Ibid., 8. Also, Assam Admn. Report, 1893-94 [39], 34.
7. Note on Land Transfer and Agricultural Indebtedness in India, 1895 [80], 66-67.
8. Hunter, A Statistical Account o f Assam, Vol. 1 [107], 49.
9. Dhekial-Phukan, as cited in Note 4 above.
10. Ibid.
11. Barua, Anandaram Dhekiyal Phukanar Jivan Charitra [194], 116 and 131-2.
Dhekial-Phukan's pioneering treatise on law in Bengali —Ain O Byavastha
Samgraha : Notes on the Laws o f Bengal [204]—was indeed modelled on W.

Blackstone's Commentaries on the Laws o f England, 4 Vols. Oxford, 1765-69.
12. Dhekial-Phukan, ’Observations...* in Mills, Report o f the Province...[66],
appendix j, xxxii ff.
13. Ibid.
14. Ibid.
15. Bama [194], 130. Mauzadars, Chamuadars, Lakhirajdars and Nisfkhirajdars—
these were the main components of the landed middle class as envisaged by
Dhekial-Phukan. A big rate-paying estate had the privilege of paying the land
revenue directly to the Government, instead of through a Mauzadar. Such an
estate was known as Chamua and its holder as Chamuadar or Khatdar. Their
number continued to dwindle in course of the century, and in 1901 there were
only one Chamuadar and four Khaidars in the whole of Assam Proper.
16. Sadar-Aminar Atmajivani [196], 73-78.
17. Baraa [194], 69-71.
19. Dhekial-Phukan, 'Inglandar Vivaran', Arunoday, Vol. 2, April 1847 [200].
20. Same as Note. 4.
21. Scott to Swinton, Chief Secy, to Govt., 17 April 1830, Foreign Pol. Proc. [35],
7 May 1830, No. 51 ; Scott to Swinton. 18 May 1831, ibid., 10 June 1831, No.
50, para 49-50 ; report on Assam from Jenkins to Secy, to Govt., 22 J-jly 1833,
ibid., 11 Feb. 1835, No. 90.
22. Mills, Report on the Province...[66], 18.
23. For Dhekial-Phukan's landed interests, Baraa [194], 25, 33, 41,49 and 119. For
the quote and related point, Dhekial-Phukan, ’Observations...' as cited in Note 4.
24. Assam Admn. Report, 1886-87, cited in Baden-powell [75], 405.
25. Assam Land and Revenue Regulation Being Regulation 1 o f 1886 [47], 1-127,
particularly its Ch. 5.
26. Ibid., also Hunter [107], 68.
27. The Usuiy Laws Repeal Act, 1855 laid down that the courts all over British
India should decree the rate of interest agreed to between the parties rather than
necessarily upholding the custom. The Code of Civil Procedure, 1859 laid down
in detail specific rules for th.e conduct of civil suits.
28. Hunter [107], 52-53 and 64-68 ; Darrah, Note on the Work Done... [46], 6-9 ;
also Annual Report o f the Admn. o f Land Rev. in Assam, 1895-96 [43], 11. On
the average, each Tahasildar replaced five Mauzadars. Of the 103 Mauzadars of the
Brahmaputra Valley as of 31 March 1898, as many as 13 had a commission
income of less than Rs. 240 per year; and 8 i Mauzadars, of Rs. 600 and above.
The remaining nine had each a commission income within the range of Rs. 240
to Rs. 600. —Land Rev. Admn. Rep. o f the Assam Valley Districts... 1897-98
[44], 76.
29. Darrah [46], 5, 9 and 20 ; Ward, 'Introduction', The Land Revenue Manual [48]
lxii.
30. Evidence of J.C.Mitra, Assam Provincial Banking Enquiry Committee 1929-30,
Vol 2 Evidence*[65], 414.
31. Hunter [107], 68.
32. Darrah [46], 9.
33. On 31 March 1898, there were in all 5083 Gaonburhas, 916 Mandals/Kanungos,
26 Tahasildars and 98 Mauzadars in Assam Proper. —Report, Ixind Rev. Admn.
Assam Valley..., 1897-98 [44], 74.
34. Dekial-Phukan, 'Observations...', Mills [66], xxvii ff.
35. Same as above.
36. Assam Valley Reassessment Report, 1893 [45], 37-38 ; Assam Admn. Rep.,
1893-94 [39], 34 and 122.
37. Henry Cotton's note to Govt, of India, 24 Sept. 1898 as reproduced in The
Colonisation o f Wastelands in Assam : Being a Reprint o f the Official
Correspondence between the Government o f India and the Chief Commissioner
o f Assam [74], 35. While coming to his conclusion, Cotton had taken care to
exclude all additions to the cropped area that had resulted from the detection of
concealed lands in course of the cadastral survey.
38. Assam Prov. District Gazetteers, [101], V-81 and 144.
39. For details, 'Memorial of the Assam Company' to the Governor-General in
Council, 1 May 1857, Miscellaneous Revenue Proc. [34], 3 Sept 1857, No. 59.
40. Assam Valley Reassessment Report [45], 19 and Mills [65J, 16.
41. Guha, Planter Raj to Swaraj...[156], 11-12 and 30-31.
42. Assam Valley Reassessment Report [45]. 44.
43. Ibid., 15,38 and 44.
44. According to the 1881 census, the average holding per head of the 430,000 land
revenue rate-payers in the ryotwari area of the Brahmaputra valley was about four
and a half acres. This appears to be a low estimate and the basis of calculation
also is not revealed. Out own exercises suggest that the average holding of
assessed lands per landholding household in Assam Proper was higher than that
The basis of our calculation is as follows. In 1881 there were 281,495 rural
households in Assam Proper. Of these an estimated 35,181 households belonged
to plantations. So the estimated number of households in the non-plantation
rural sector comes to 246,314. In 1884-85 the earliest year for which we have
reliable relevant data, there were 1360,073 acres of assessed land under the
ryotwari settlement in the same area. From these two figures, the average
holding could be roughly worked out at five and a half acres. Again, the Dufferin
Enquiry (1888) in Assam Proper revealed that 31 landholding households and one
10-household village community, selected at random, owned between them 617.5
bighas in all. This yields an average holding of five acres per household. We are
therefore inclined to the view that the average size of holdings of the relevant
period was five to five - and - a - half acres.—Census of India, 1881, Assam
Report [104], 121 and Tabic B ; Returns o f Agricultural Statistics o f British

India, Vol. 1, 1884-35, [108], Form C-9 ; Dufferin Enquiry, Proc. No. 10 [73],
appendices B and C
45. For details, Baden-Powell [75], 406; Hunter [107], 50 and 68.
46. Dewan to Mills, Mills [66], appendix to the section on Sibsagar, lxiii.
47. Bogle to the Officiating Chief Secy, to Govt., Foreign Pol. Proc. [35], 30 May
1833, No. 93 ; Sadar-Aminar Atmajivani [196], 2 and 17.
48. Data collected by S.C. Baneijee in Dufferin Enquiry, Proc. No. 10 [73], appendix
C, 78-80.
49. W.E. Ward’s note of 15 January 18S0, para 83, cited F.C. Daukes (Off. Secy, to
Chief CommissiMief Assam) to Govt, of India, Revenue and Agr. Dept, 12
July 1188, Dufferin Enquiry, Proc. No. 10 [73], 1-9. The word 'big' has to be
understood in a relative sense in the context of resource-poor Assam.
50. Assam Admn. Report, 1888-89 [39], 102 ; Statement No. 9 in Annual Report of
Admn. o f Land Rev., Assam, 1895-96 [43], 53.
51. Ward's Introduction1in The Land Revenue Manual [41], lxxvii and xxxii.
52. Assam Valley Reassessment Report [45], appendix F, 71.
53. The basic data in this paragraph are collected from Appendix 3, ibid., 74; Ward's
Introduction' [48], and Assam Prov. District Gazetteers [101], IV-166 and 262.
54. In pre-British times, (he epithet 'dangariya' was applicable only to the members
of the nobility. Later its meaning was diluted to include also the members of the
gentry.
55. Uttamchandra Baruar Jivani [195], 91. Being heavily indebted, the family
subsequently lost most of its lands. However the deceased Mauzadar’s son,
Uttamchandra, too, became a Mauzadar and, after 1897, he and his relatives were
settled with about 464 acres of wastelands.
56. Sadar-Aminar Atmajivcuu[\96\%xv and 230-1.
57. Nalinibala Devi, Eri Aha Dinbor [199], 3-5.
58. Data collected by Qunabhiram Barua in Dufferin Enquiry, Proc. No. 10 [73],
appendix C, 60-61.
59. Hunter [107], 46.
60. See Note 44 above and for the number of estates, the relevant Assam Admn.
Reports, Annual Series [39]. About 28 percent of the estates were in Kamrup.
61. Commissioner's Revenue Report dted by Darrah in his letter to Secy, to Chief
Commissioner. Shillong, 22 May 1892, reproduced in Appendix A to Assam
Valley Reassessment Report [45], 44.
62. Assam Valley Reassessment Report [45], 18.
63. Hunter [107], 45, 131, 192-93, 255 and 373. Apparemly, Hunter’s observation
was valid in respect of only the faringati lands. In case of rupit lands (under the
sali variety of paddy) requiring more intensive ploughing, the average capacity of
a pair of oxen or a single buffalo could not have exceeded 8 to 12 bighas.
v/
4
64. See Table 11 in Guha, 'Socio-economic changes in agrarian Assam' [158], 615-
6, for early official data on double cropping.
65. The average yield was worked out from i 1896 >experimental cuttings in the
first case and 708 such cuttings in the second case. The highest yield was found
to be over 12.8 maunds per bigha. —Dufferin Enquiry, Proc. No. 10 [73]» 2-3.
66. Data collected by Barua, ibid., appendix C, 55-56.
67. Data collected by Darrah and, also by Barua, ibid., appendix C, 46-49 and 53-55.
68. For stray data on paddy sales at 10 annas per maund in 1888, Dufferin Enquiry,
Proc. No. 10 [73], appendix C, 37, 48-49 and 57-58. This was accepted ax the
average price by Darrah in his note.
69. Data collected by Darrah, ibid., appendix C, 46-49.
70. Observations of S.C.Baneijee, cited by Darrah, ibid., 9.
71. For the basis of our estimate see "Land Rights and Social Classes" above in this
volume.
72. Report from the Indian Law Commissioners Relative to Slavery in the East
Indies, VoL 28, 1841 [76], 96-98 and appendix VI -Nos. 1-5 ; Robinson [183J,
279-80. ^
73. Notes submitted by Baneijee and Bania, Dufferin Enquiry; Proa No. 10 [73], 7-
8 and 32.
74. Ibid., 7-8 and 32-33n, Butler, Travels and Adventures in Province o f Assam
[133], 228-9.
75. Data collected by Darrah. Dufferin Enquiry, Proc. No. 10 [73], 41 -42.
76. Data collected by Baneijee, ibid., appendix C, 70-72.
77. Ibid., 72-74. Some of the value estimates in this case areours, based on stray
price data found elsewhere in the same source.
78. Ibid., 8-13 ; for annual averages of tea garden wages obtained during inspections,
see Indian Legislative Council Proceedings, 1901, VoL 40[54], 94.
79. Assam Prov. District Gazetteers, [101], op. cit., V-81 and 144 ; Dufferin
Enquiry, Proc. No. 10 [73], 8-13.
80. Ibid., 13.
81. Data collected by Barua, ibid., appendix C. 61 -62.
82. P. Barooah, 'Enquiries into the status of cultivating ryots, lakhiraj and nisfkhiraj
estates in Kamrup', 13 March 1883 [31].
83. D\4ferin Enquiry, Proc. No. 10. [73], 5.
84. Ibid., 6 ; Mills [66], 17-18 and, ibid., Dhekial-Phukan's'Observations...',
xxx vii.
85. Baden-Powell [75], 410,416 and 416n!
86. Consolidated statement on tenancy appended to the letter from Director, Land
Records, No. 4883 dated 1 Nov. 1893, Rev. Proc. cited in Ward, Introduction'
[48], xxxiiff.
87. Assam Prov. District Gazetteers [101], IV -166, V-165-6, VI-155-6, VTt-169-70
and Vm-213-14 ; Census of India, 1891, Assam Report [104], Ch. 9-300. The
1901 figure for tenants includes not all dependants, but only the working ones
and, therefore, is not strictly on a comparable footing with the 1891 figure.
88. Same as Note 87.
89. 'Note 3' by J. Knox Wight, Deputy Commissioner, Sibsagar, Dufferin Enquiry,
Proc. No. 10. [73], 30.
90. Ibid., 6 ; Assam Valley Reassessment Report [45], appendix 4,44.
91. For the information, Assam Prov. District Gazetteers [101], Vols. IV-167, V -
165 and VD-169-70; for the quote, Baden-Powell [75], 406.
92. This classification is based on a note submitted to the Director of Land Records
and Agriculture and reproduced in Assam Prov. District Gazetteers [101], V-164-
5.
93. Assam Valley Reassessment Report [45], 20 ; Assam Prov. District Gazetteers
[101], Vols. VD-169-70 and Vm-214.
94. Data collected by Darrah, Dufferin Inquiry, Proc. No. 10 [73], appendix C, 49-
51.
95. Data collected by Banerjee, ibid., appendix C, 75-78.
96. Guha, Planter Raj to Swaraj...[ 156], 105-10.
97. Ibid., 14 and 101-2.
98. Govt, of India to Chief Commissioner, Assam, No. 1678-129-5, dated 17 Sept.
1895 in Assam Secretariat File No. Rev. A. Oct. 1898, [37], Nos. 87, 88 and
— 96. Also see The Colonisation c f Wastelands.. .[74], 23-27,30-31 and 81.
99. Statement No. 182, Census of India, 1891, Assam Report, Vol. 1, 1891 [104],
Pi. 11-294.
100. Census of India, 1891, Assam Tables, VoL 2 [104], Table 4 ; Hunter [107], 40,
119,188,245 and 365 ; Assam Admn. Report, 1905-06 [39], 85-86 and Imperial
Gazetteer c f India [102], Vols. VI-85, XI-183 and 342, XH-183, XIV-333, XVI-
121, XIX-224 and 229.
101. Guha, Planter Raj to Swaraj.. .[156], 38-39.
102. Relevant trade data are culled from Assam Admn. Reports, annual series 1883-84
to 1895-96 [39].
103. For conversion, one pound of mill yam or cloth is taken as equivalent of four
square yards of cloth.
104. Scott to Swinton, 18 May 1831, para 49, Foreign Pol. Proc. [35], 10 June*
105. Dhekial-Phukan, 'Observations../, Mills [66], xxxix ff.
106. Excerpt from Mmu, VoL 1, Feb. 1887, tr. in Bom , Bolinarayan Borrah: His Life
Work and Musings [130], 57-58.
107. As quoted, ibid., 49. Borrah further commented-'Our object is to dose, as far as
possible, the doors to the offices and to open the way to the trades'. According to
him, mass education could wait until a wide base of technical education
along with the necessary level of higher education was well established in Assam.
108. Welsh, 'Assam : an interesting account of the ancient system of government in
Assam', Foreign Pol, Cons. [35], 24 Feb. 1794, No. 13A.
109. Dhekial-Phukan, 'Observations...\ Mills [66], xxxvii f f .; Barua [194], 139-40 ;
The Bengalee, 17 Oct. 1896.
110. Darrah's note, Dufferin Enquiry, Proc. No. 10 [73], 9.
111. Data culled from Census of India, 1891, Assam Tables, Vol. 2 [104], Table 17 ;
Statement No. 196, ibid, Assam Report, Vol. 1, Pi. Ü-307 ; C I, 1881, Assam
Report, 120-4. Unlike those of 1891, Census data of 1881, do not include
dependants.
A somewhat exaggerated picture of the extent of money-lending in Assam
Proper was presented by Mukherjee in 'Agrarian conditions in Assam 1880-
1890...', IESHR, Vol. 16 [178], 216. The 1881 data for money-lenders (2,414
persons) and for petty shopkeepers (48,452 persons) used by Mukherjee related to
the whole province of Assam and not to Assam Proper as such, as misconstrued
by him. In fact merchants, brokers, mercantile office employees, money
changers, money-lenders and shopkeepers—all of them together numbered only
18,955 persons in Assam Proper in 1881. That is, they constituted only one per
cent of its total population. How could money-lenders and shopkeepers between
them then account for 2.7 per cent of its population, as Mukherjee concludes ?
112. In 1908, Barpeta was 'one of the few places in Assam, where the Assamese have
displayed any commercial aptitude. They retain all business in their own hands,
and there is considerable trade in mustard-seed and other country produce'. —
Imperial Gazetteer o f India [102], VÜ-35. Other cash crops, next in importance
to mustard-seeds, were betel nuts and betel vines—both orchard products.
Production of gur for sale was marginal.
113. For instance, 744,133 maunds of oilseeds were despatched outside and 47,796
maunds of vegetable oil were brought into the Brahmaputra Valley in 1884-85.
The corresponding figures for 1895-96 were 587,250 maunds and 52,001 maunds,
respectively. —Assam Admn. Reports, 1884-85 and 1895-96 [39], giving
relevant tables on chief imports and exports by boats and steamers.
114. Cotton's note. The Colonisation o f Wastelands.. .[74], 36.
115. Cotton's note dated 24 Sept. 1898, ibid, 33.
116. Ibid, 34.
117. Secy, to Govt, of India to the Chief Commissioner of Assam, 26 January 1899,
ibid, 81-87. Cotton's scheme in essence was the same as what Jenkins had
proposed as early as 1833 for colonizing Assam. Both looked forward to
establishing immigrating men of capital as landed middlemen for ushering in
agricultural improvements. They both wanted small peasants to be transformed
into tenants of capitalist landlords. However, while Jenkins welcomed

exclusively Englishmen of capital, Cotton would admit wealthy Indians as well.
Also see Jenkins to Govt 22 July 1833, cited in Note 21 above.
118. Cotton's note and reply by Secy, to Govt, of India, 26 January 1899 reproduced
in The Colonisation o f Wastelands. ..[74], 31-32 and 81-87.
119. Adresses Presented to His Excellency.. .[64], 21 -23.
120. Appendix A to Cotton’s note in The Colonisation o f Wastelands...[74], 65.
Lakshminath Bezbarua (1868-1938) had not failed to protest in 1880s against the
oppression of the coolies by the British planters. Later we find him regretting
that the Assamese gentry, unlike their Bengali counterpart, did not get the benefit
of a permanent zamindari settlement which he admired. See Hiren Gohain,
'Origins of the Assamese middle class'. Social Scientist, VoL 13 [153], 19.
121. Feeble beginnings of such an outlook could be traced back to the 1890s in the
early poetry of Kamalakanta Bhattacharya (1853-1936) and in Ratneswar
Mahanta's attempt at restoring Maniram Dewan's image as that of an anti
imperialist martyr. See Ratneswar Mahanta Rachanavali [197], 225.
122. Quotes from George Lukács in Aspects o f History and Class Consciousness,
[179], 59.
12
Imperialism of Opium
How the British-Indian opium monopoly was operated for more

than a century since its creation in 1773 to suit the needs of Britain's
China trade and to finance colonial governance are facts which are
well-known. Warren Hastings transferred the opium monopoly from
the account of merchandise to that of revenue. He did not find it wrong
to vend the drug as an item of foreign commerce. Throughout the
nineteenth century, this monopoly remained a clever and effective
imperial device for meeting the needs of the so-called remittance
problem and Britain's multilateral balance of payments. Besides, the
opium revenue constituted one-seventh to one-sixth of India's total
budgetary revenue until the early eighteennincties. In the middle
decades of the nineteenth century, opium accounted for one-fourth of
India's total foreign trade value. What is less known is its ruinous
impact on the British Indian province of Assam, particularly five of its
districts—Kamrup, Nowgong, Darrang, Sibsagar and Lakhimpur,
which together came to be known as Assam proper. An attempt will
be made here (i) to trace the genesis of the opium evil in Assam in
course of 1773-1826—the years of early Anglo-Assamese relations and
(ii) to examine the extent of the evil in post-annexation Assam till
1921. The purpose is to understand why an anti-opium agitation
became the main edge of the national struggle against imperialism in
Assam during its last phase, 1921-1947. The opium policy was
imperialism's weakest link where the nationalists struck hard.
A By-product o f Anglo-Assamese Relations

The Assamese people were introduced to the poppy plant and its
use during the days of the Mughal invasion of Assam in the
seventeenth century. However, opium-addiction remained a vice
limited only to a few rich men there until the middle of the next
century.1 According to Maniram Dewan, poppy was first cultivated by
IMPERIALISM OF OPIUM 281
Rajput Barkendazes at Beltala in the vicinity of Guwahati during the

reign of King Lakshmi Singha.2 They and hundreds of other armed
Barkendazes from Bengal Presidency—many of them ex-sepoys of the
Company and opium addicts—had flocked to civil-war-ridden 18th
century Assam as soldiers of fortune. It was through their agency that
the opium habit spread through its length and breadth. Thomas Welsh,
who commanded the East India Company's interventionist troops
during the period from November 1792 to May 1794, observed that
poppy was growing in luxuriance in most of the lower provinces’ of
Assam and that the reigning monarch, Gaurinath Singha was an
opium addict3
The Assamese were not yet acquainted with the manufacture of
’merchantable opium' that could be locally procured in considerable
quantities. Welsh therefore recommended that 'a few boat-loads of
opium' be sent from Bengal for sale.4 It was later widely believed that
Welsh's several hundred sepoys were primarily responsible for
spreading the opium habit in Assam.5 That the Company's sepoys had
a role to play in eastern or upper Assam cannot be denied. Haliram
Dhekial-Phukan's observation in 1829 that the drug habit had become
particularly rampant in course of the preceding three to four decades
also supports this conclusion.6 Barkendaz freebooters and Welsh's
sepoys apart, a large number of Hindustani ex-sepoys from Bengal,
who were recruited into the army of King Kamaleswar Singha, also
played a similar role in popularizing the opium habit and poppy
cultivation. Thus the cultivation of poppy extended gradually eastward
beyond the British frontier district of Rungpore. In 1809, Buchanan
Hamilton did not fail to note that opium in Assam was 'raised in
abundance for consumption and there is much used'.7
Not much of Bengal opium did however find its way to Assam
before its annexation under the Treaty of Yandabo 1826, or even there
after till the 1850s. The expanding demand for opium was satisfied
from local supplies. The drug used to be collected by saturating strips
of coarse cotton cloth—each about three inches broad—in the juice
obtained from incisions made into the poppy plant Dried and lightly
rolled up, these strips of cloth, known as kanee, were sold in the
market or were consumed by the producers themselves. Poorer people
prepared a drink by dissolving this kanee in water. Richer people
extracted madak from it by evaporating the water, and they smoked i t 8
Drinking was however more common than smoking.
Given the vicissitudes of the China trade, the Company needed also
other markets close at hand where the surplus opium, if any, could be
sold. Assam provided such a market. In fact, some quantity of illicit
opium used to the smuggled into Assam proper from Rungpore that
included Goalpara in those days9. To regularize the trade, poppy
cultivation that had long remained an exclusive preserve of select
Banaras and Bihar districts was permitted for an experiment in the
districts of Bengal proper as well, under Regulation IIIX of 1816. A
Commercial Resident in special charge of opium was appointed at
Rungpore.10 As exportation of Rungpore opium to China was not
allowed because of its inferior quality, it found its way to adjacent
Assam proper in trickles. After four years of trial, the permissive
regulations were withdrawn, and the Company's opium establishment
at Rungpore was abolished.11 But the illicit opium trade nevertheless
continued.
The only check on the rapid extension of poppy cultivation in pre-
British Assam at the beginning of the 19th century appears to have
been a tax of Rs. 12/- per pura (1 p u ra = 1.33 acres) of such
cultivation.12 Apparently, this check was hardly effective. For
immediately after its annexation, the extent of poppy cultivation in
Assam was estimated by David Scott at some 2,000 pur as.n Three
years later Haliram Dhekial Phukkan noted in 1829 that there was
almost no place in Assam where poppy was not cultivated.14 At an
estimated average yield of 10 seers per pura, the total production of
opium from 2,000 puras was likely to be 500 maunds or so—quite an
enormous quantity for the local population of one million.15 In other
words, opium consumption in Assam proper was at the rate of some
200 seers per 10,000 population, while only 6 seers would have
sufficed for all medicinal needs of the people.16 The relieving feature of
this alarming situation was that, with its lesser consistency, kanee
was less harmful than Bengal opium. The Assamese habit of taking
the drug mostly in forms other than smoking also made it less
injurious to health.
The Company had to decide whether the annexed territory was to be
brought under the general operation of the opium monopoly or
whether an exception was to be made in view of its peculiar local
circumstances. Prohibition of poppy cultivation and introduction of
strict abkari regulations in Assam proper were not favoured by David
Scott, the first Agent to the Governor-General for the North East
Frontier. For the local opium-addicted population would then have
faced serious health hazards and a high mortality rate. Instead, he
recommended a tax of rupees twenty per pura of local poppy
cultivation.17 He also pleaded for the expediency of allowing a part of
the Company's opium investment to be furnished from Assam, should
the locally prepared drug appear upon trial to be of good quality. For
this purpose, he recommended cash advances to poppy cultivators, as

and when necessary.18 In his report on Assam, dated 22 July 1833,
Francis Jenkins too advised against sudden restrictions on the poppy
cultivation and recommended a tax on it, to be enhanced gradually over
eight, ten or more years until 'the province should be subjected to the
general laws of the state in regard to opium'.19
The official assessment of the situation was well-informed. A
sudden ban on the poppy cultivation would have certainly produced
some unforseen results as well. Within two decades of the annexation,
tax payments in cash had gradually been substituted for all payments
in kind and labour-rent. Poppy was the only crop regularly and
constantly watered from small reservoirs.20 Due to extremely
inadequate commercialization of agriculture, tax-payers were already
hard-pressed for cash. If the cultivation of poppy—an important cash
crop21—were suppressed, the problem of cash-shortage would have
been more acute on two counts : (i) many cultivators would have then
lost a major source of their cash income and (ii) many people, used to
home-grown opium, would have needed additional cash to buy abkari
opium.
Frying Pan to Fire

Under the circumstances, the policy of allowing local poppy
cultivation until 1 May 1860 was understandable. But why the poppy
fields were not subjected to a higher than the ordinary land revenue
rate, as proposed by Scott, Jenkins and the Board of Trade, was not
clear. It was believed that if the Bengal opium was introduced by the
Government and sold cheaper than kanee, the acreage under poppy in
Assam proper would automatically shrink. Accordingly, arrangements
were made to sell Bengal opium through the government treasuries
during the late forties and throughout the eithteen-fifties, but without
much success.22
The prevalent opium policy was widely discussed at the official
level, when AJ.Moffat Mills, Judge of the Sadar Dewani and Nizamat
Adalat of Calcutta, visited the province in 18S3 to enquire into the
local conditions. That the opium habit had already crossed the danger
level in Assam was pinpointed by many of his memorialists. 'The
universal use of opium has converted the Assamese, once a hardy,
industrious and enterprising race', said Anandaram Dhekial Phukan,
into an effiminate, weak, indolent and a degraded people.' He demanded
that the sale of government opium be discontinud^pcthwith and a tax
on thepoppycultivation be introduced and progressively enhanced with
a view to its gradutl eradication.23 Maniram Dewan too deprecated the*
introduction of abkari opium since, under its spell, people were 'daily
becoming unfit for agricultural pursuits.' He recommended a policy o f
gradual eradication of the poppy culture, through an annual five p e r
cent decrease in the acreage.24
Mills was convinced that 'three-fourths of the population a re
opium eaters and men, women and children alike use the drug'.25
Reports received from the Collectors indicated in no uncertain term s
that the sale of government opium had not discouraged local poppy
cultivation. On the contrary, it had almost tripled to about 6,000 puras
(yielding some 1,500 maunds of kanee) since the British took over the
administration. While the population increased hardly 10 per cent or so
between 1826 and 1853,26 the consumption of kanee per 10,000 o f
population recorded no doubt an alarming increase during this first
quarter-century of the British rule. On top of it, one to two hundred
maunds of Bengal opium sold by the Government were also
consumed. Having admitted the universality of the drug addiction,
Mills concluded : The use of opium with many has almost become a
necessary of life, and in a damp country like Assam it is perhaps
beneficial if taken with moderation...'. While upholding the sale of
government opium as legitimate, he however conceded that 'to allow
every man to grow the plant and manufacture the drug unrestrictedly is
most injurious to the morals of the people. Opium they should have,
but to get it they should be made to work for it'.27 A policy of gradual
eradication of the poppy cultivation by means of an increasing
assessment on lands cultivated with poppy did not find favour with
him. His recommendation was that 'the simplest and most effectual
plan is to suppress the cultivation at once and pour into stations and
into the Mofussil, at certain places, a sufficient quantity of
government opium for the consumption of the people'.28 In plain
words, Mills was not concerned with the short-term effects on the
people of whatever official opium policy was adopted. He also wanted
the Government to exploit the peoples weakness for the drug to
augment its revenues.
Because of the resistance of a section of officials with local
experience, Mills' recommendation was not given an immediate effect
However, British tea planters as a class were clamouring for a ban on
opium. For they then believed that opium had made the Assamese
people too lazy to come for work in the labour-short plantations.29
Government finally banned poppy cultivation with effect from 1 May
1860 and allowed the Government monopoly of opium to operate in
full force. In 1864-65, the total quantum of Bengal opium sold in the
Assam Valley (Assam proper and Goalpara) amounted to 1939
'daily maunds.30 The relevant revenue derived from the opium excise, (Rs.
icy of 1186,413), was more than what was collected in that year under the
eper head of land revenue (Rs. 1016,009).31 In a drive to maximize the
excise revenue with a minimum of consumption, the price of opium
i are was increased from Rs. 14 per seer in 1860 to Rs. 20 in 1862 and Rs.
ig'.a 23 by 1873.32
emu The Assam districts were separated from Bengal to form a new
jppy province in February 1874. While poppy cultivation remained
m prohibited, a brisk trade in government opium went on unhindered,
rthe For less than 7,000 villages and towns of the Assam Valley in 1873-
jts o 74, there were as many as 5,137 licensed opium shops to vend the
] of drug at the grassroots.33 The vendors' list did even include a few
firs European tea planters. S£.Peal, e.g., used to issue every month about
Ired 40 lbs of opium to his Assamese labour force. For about 12 years
also since 1863, this constituted half of his total wage bill and served as
ion. circulating media reportedly over a rural area of 200 square miles
iei where from his labour was recruited.34
aps
:oi New Policy in Operation : 'maximum revenue
Of with minimum consumption'
1$ The official policy in operation was one of revenue-maximization
while progressively reducing the supply of opium. Two measures were
a adopted to achieve this end—a gradual increase in the wholesale price
q of opium over the years and a gradual reduction in the number of
y vending licenses issued. Besides, the drastic increase in land revenue
j rates, in 1868 and again in 1893 in the face of popular resistance, was
( officially justified as an effective disincentive to opium
j consumption.35 The number of opium shops was brought down from
, 5,137 in 1873-74 to 1,397 by 1880-81 and 775 by 1901-02. By 1919-
( 20, it came down to 324. Alongside of this, the wholesale price
I (treasury price) of opium was gradually pushed upward to Rs. 37 per
, seer by 1890-91, at which level it was allowed to remain till 1908-9.
It was again gradually pushed up to Rs. 50 in 1918-19 and to Rs. 57
in 1920-21.
These measures, while ensuring a steadily increasing excise
revenue, also caused a steady reduction in the province's total opium
consumption until the end of the nineteenth century. The lawful
consumption came down steadily from 1,874 maunds in 1875-76 to
1,228 maunds by 1897-98—apparently an impressive fall in view of
the concurrent population increase, or, even otherwise. However for a
proper comprehension of the intensity of the opium evil, the focus
should be not on the whole province, but on Assam proper alone. It
was there that more than 90 per cent of the province's opium
consumption was concentrated. Besides, the opium habit there was
almost exclusively asociated with the indigenous agricultural
population.36 When these facts are taken into consideration, the
reduction in opium consumption during the last quarter of the
nineteenth contury hardly appears impressive and meaningful.
The population of Assam proper increased 16.3 per cent while the
quantum of opium consumed there declined 22.9 per cent (from 1557
maunds to 1201 maunds) between the years 1880-81 and 1900-01. The
entire population increase took place in the non-indigenous, Le., the
immigrant sector of the population which was known to be almost
entirely free from this vice. The relevant indigenous component of the
population, on the other hand, underwent an estimated 9.7 per cent
decline, according to the Census authorities. This means that the fall
in per capita opium consumption of the relevant population was a
little above 13 per cent—or at the most 15 per cent—over the two
decades.37 Even this was doubtful. For, as a result of the price increase
and inadequacy of the anti-smuggling measures, the use of smuggled
opium was on the increase.
Within these limitations, the downward trend in opium
consumption was nevertheless welcome and should have been
maintained in the subsequent period. But this did not happen. Within a
couple of years, the trend was reversed. The consumption of opium in
the province went on increasing from a low 1228 maunds in 1897-98
and 1901-02 to 1748 maunds in 1919-20, Assam proper accounting
for the bulk of the increase as usual. Thus under the official policy,
practically no progress was made since 1897-98 in reducing the
absolute quantum of opium consumption either in Assam proper or in
the province as a whole until the Non-cooperation days.
The reason is not far to seek. Revenue considerations did not
permit more drastic and frequent upward price revisions or larger
expenditures on anti-smuggling measures. Reduction in opium
supplies was all right only so long as there was no decrease in the
yield ; otherwise, the supply was allowed to increase at the given
price. Not welfare but a monopolist's profit-maximizing price policy
was what guided the Government ir this matter. The price set at Rs.
37 in 1890-91, e.g., was kept unchar sd for nineteen years, so that an
apprehended fall in the excise receipts could be averted. For five of the
nineteen years, the revenue derived was indeed actually less than what
it was in 1890-91. For the other years, the increase in revenue until
1908-09 was obviously not deemed steady enough to justify a further
increase in the price without loss of revenue.
The situation eased thereafter, and several price revisions helped

augment the opium excise revenue. As a result of this policy, the total
consumption of opium in 1919-20 was at its highest since 1875-76
and was only 6.7 per cent less than the consumption of the latter year.
The revenue therefrom more than trebled meanwhile. In 1920-21, the
eve of the Non-cooperation movement, the province's consumption of
opium underwent a slight fall (from 1748 maunds to 1615 maunds)
over the previous year's ; but, because of another price increase mean
while, the revenue yield increased to Rs. 4.4 million—an all-time
record figure, later surpassed only by that of 1925-26.
The management of the excise revenue was vested in the provincial
governments and in Assam, its importance was only next to that of
land revenue. Even as late as the earlynineteen-twenticsopiumrevenue
accounted for about one-sixth of the province's total budgetary
revenue.38 The Government of Assam used to receive opium at the ex-
factory cost of Rs. 7.25 per seer until June 1895 and Rs. 8.50 for
many years thereafter. The margin between this cost and the treasury
price indicated the amount of excise duty paid by the retailers.39 The
difference between the treasury price and the retail price was the private
vendor's gross profit. The monopoly price could always be pitched
higher in Assam than in other provinces, because of a lesser danger of
smuggling, far removed as the province was from the source of illicit
Malwa opium.
During the period from 1880-81 to 1920-21, there was a slow
decline in opium consumption over the years ; but this hardly means
that per capita consumption was declining among the indigenes. From
1890-91 onwards the vice was, on the contrary, perhaps steadily
increasing among them in per capita terms. And by 1920-21, the
qpnual intakef of opium per 10,000 people was as high as an estimated
287 seers, as against an internationally approved norm of 6 seers.
Until 1905 or so addiction to opium was typically a vice of the rural
people—the peasantry in general. It was only in the early years of the
twentieth century that some immigrant plantation workers, too, were
introduced to the vice by licence-holding Marwari traders, "one of
whom is to be found on almost every tea garden”.40 The extent to
which the vice prevailed in a few tea gardens was alarming.41 For, this
drug was presumably given also to children so that they remained
doped at home while their working mothers were away on duty. At
this juncture, Gandhiji who heralded the action-oriented anti-opium
agaitation as an integral part of the national struggle in Assam, was
hailed overnight as an avatar by the Assamese people. He taught that
anti-opium and anti-imperialist struggles in Assam were inseparable

from each other.
Anti-Opium Agitation : Prayers and Petitions

Any organized anti-opium agitation in Assam was conspicuously
absent during the nineteenth century. The enlightened section of the
people did only feebly exhibit their awareness of the alarming
situation. This was evident from the memoranda of Maniram Dewan
and Anandaram Dhekial-Phukan to Mills in 1853. In his satire, Kaniar
Kirtan, published in 1861, Hemchandra Barua posed opium as a
menace to the Assamese society. Resident American baptist
missionaries too focused on this evil from time to time in their
Assamese mouthpiece, Arunoday (1846-82). Amongst others,
Satyanath Bora and Trinayan Barkakati, both lawyers, Gunabhiram
Barua, retired government servant, and Radhanath Changkakati, owner
of a printing press—they all told the Royal Commission on Opium
(1893) to prohibit the drug. Changkakati even suggested that the
resultant loss of revenue could be made up 'by curtailing civil and
military expenditure and Home charges.142
On the other hand, Jagannath Barua, Devicharan Barua, Mahendra
nath Phukan and Munsi Rahamat Ali, all planters, Madhavchandra
Bardoloi, high-ranking government servant, Haribilas Agarwala,
opulent merchant—they all gave support to the government policy
then in operation.43 Jagannath Barua believed in the officially
cultivated myth that opium was ’a necessity in a jungly and malarious
province like Assam' and that the question of temperance should be
left 'to the voluntary efforts on the part of the people.144 The Jorhat
Sarbajanik Sabha, o f which he and Devicharan Barua were the
mentors, opposed the idea of prohibition and even upheld the policy of
exporting opium to China. Their memorandum to the Commission
also asserted : 'the people of this province are not and would not be
willing to make up [for]... any deficit in the revenues...' resulting
from prohibition. One of their arguments was that tribal Kachari
labourers, who consumed opium, were the hardiest and healthiest of all
labour on the Upper Assam plantations.45 Clearly it was the dread of
an increase in land taxation that induced the dominant section of the
Assamese landed middle class to take a pro-govemment stand on the
opium issue.
Even at the national level, there was no united and organized anti
opium platform: Dadabhai Naoroji and a few others apart, the national
leaders hardly realized that the British opium policy was an integral
part of the network of imperialism. Concerned only with its moral
aspect, they were ready to compromise their conscience if that suited

India's interests. While some—the Brahmo elite for example—were in
favour of a total prohibition on humanitarian grounds, a majority of
them apparently found nothing wrong in fleecing opium-addicted
China to augment Indian public revenues.46 They were also the least
aware that opium was no less a curse of their own people in Assam.
The danger at home of a rising consumption of opium was rarely
focussed in the contemporary Indian press.
The Raj faced the fiercest criticism of its opium policy in the
metropolitan country itself. Until the mid-nineteenth century, the
tirade against the opium monopoly remained an integral part of the
free trade agitation. But as its imperial role found increasing
recognition and acceptance soon amongst the free traders,47 the mantle
of the anti-opium agitation fell on the Christian philanthropists. By
1888 the Society for the Supperssion of the Opium Trade was at the
head of this agitation, and it had support of the democratic sections of
the British people. Because of its pressure on the British Parliament,
the Royal Commission on Opium was appointed in 1893 to
investigate the question.
Many shocking facts about the situation in Assam came to light
thereafter. The legal supply apart, some quantities of contraband
opium were also being regularly smuggled into Assam from
Rajputana and other areas by Marwari and Nepali traders.48 Dwarkanath
Ganguli, assistant secretary to the Indian Association of Calcutta, told
the Commission of his first-hand impression that about a quarter of
the population of the Assam Valley—and no less than 40 per cent of
its male population—were addicted to opium. The Commissioner of
Excise, JJ.S.Driberg who was in Assam since 1864, estimated that
30 to 35 per cent of the Assamese-speaking population and 80 to 85
per cent of the Mikir (Karbi) tribe indulged in opium. The Lalung
tribe of Nowgong also was much under its spell.49
Lower classes generally spent, according to a pleader of Nowgong,
10 to 20 per cent of their income on opium. Changkakati observed in
1893 that some veteran consumers in the district of Lakhimpur spent
up to about one-half of their income on the drug.50 These observations
gave only a rough idea of the proportion of household income spent
on opium. Out of 38 households of toiling peasants covered by an
enquiry in 1888 in Assam proper, as many as 11 were regular buyers
of the drug. The more detailed information available for four of these
revealed further that, on the average, more than a quarter of their cash
requirements were for purchasing opium while only nine per cent
related to the land revenue demand.51
Government's excise policy hit the Assamese peasant society hard

not only economically but also morally. The habit of taking the drug
in its most injurious form, i.e., smoking, was on the increase. By the
end of the nineteenth century, opium-smoking had infiltrated into
Hindu religious practices as a congregational ritual (kaniya-seva).
Long nocturnal sessions of opium-smoking parties at private houses,
for purposes religious or otherwise, became a regular feature of the
Assamese rural society. The proportion of smokers amongst the
addicts was believed to have increased from a five to ten per cent
around 1860 to some fifty per cent by 1913.52
The Royal Commission's recommendations were disappointing. It
did not feel that British India had any moral obligation to stop opium
exports to China, as long as the latter country was permissive. It held
that 'the temperate use of opium in India should be viewed in the same
light as the temperate use of alcohol in England.' The Commission
found the objectives and working of the opium monopoly legitimate
and satisfactory.53
From 1905 onwards organized efforts to discuss the opium evil,
alongside of other issues, began to take shape ; but the emphasis was
still on temperance, not on a policy of total prohibition. The Assam
Association, the first valley-wise political platform of the Assamese
middle classes, did not fail to discuss the issue at its very first annual
conference held at Dibrugarh in 1905.54 In 1907 an anti-opium
conference was held in the same town, at the initiative of local social
workers. It urged upon the Government to check the opium menance
and recommended formation of an all-Assam temperance association.
Such as association was finally formed in 1912 at the second anti
opium conference at Dibrugarh, with the Vaishnava abbot of the
Dinjay Satra in the chair. It recommended introduction of a public
register of opium addicts with a view to check further progress of the
habit, as had been done in Burma.55
The provincial legislature, functioning in Assam only since 1906,
was another platform where the opium issue was raised from time to
time. Padmanath Gohain-Barua, e.g., pleaded on its floor for opening a
public register for the province’s opium addicts. But such voices in the
European-dominated legislature were always subdued in tone and the
least effective. Government members got away with their explanation
of the rising trend in opium consumption in terms of a rapid
population growth and increasing purchasing power. They argued that
a severer restrictive policy would only force the addicts to opt for
other competing narcotics like ganja.56 Never were they ashamed of
harping on the old theme that opium was harmless and even disease-
resistant, if used moderately. Had there been no simultaneous

international pressure on the Government of India, many of the
criticisms made in the legislature would have remained unheeded.
Through its participation in the Hague Convention on Opium in
1912, India became morally committed to suppressing opium-
smoking in all its provinces. But the Government of India proceeded
to fulfil its commitment only perfunctorily. On its advice, the
Government of Assam constituted a committee with three Assamese
members and A.W.Botham as its Chairman, to investigate the issue in
its entirety.57
Having examined 482 witnesses from all over Assam proper, the
Committee concluded that severe restrictions on opium would not
solve the problem but would only increase the sale of other narcotics
at its cosL In its view, there was no need for compulsory registration
of opium-eaters, nor of banning opium-smoking altogether. All that
was needed was legislation to raise the retail price of opium to Rs. 60
per seer (that too only in the two districts of Lakhimpur and
Sibsagar) ; to put a ceiling on the quantity of opium permissible in
private possession ; to raise the qualifying age of opium-purchasers to
20 and to prohibit opium-smoking in company (i.e., kania-seva).
These measures, readily accepted though by the Government, were a
total failure. The inroads of opium into the Assamese rural society
went unhindered.58
Nationalist Challenge : Non-cooperation

Under the circumstances, even the otherwise docile legislature
became animated over the opium question, with the approach of the
new era of nationalism under Gandhiji's inspiration since 1915. In
April 1919, Phanidhar Chaliha—a Rai Bahadur and retired government
servant elected to the legislature—told the house : ’...if the opium
trade is retained, the Assamese race will be almost exinct within two
hundred years thence'. Pointing out to increased smuggling, he argued
that nothing short of a total prohibition would do. He also referred to
the excise revenue as 'tainted' money. The Chief Commissioner and
ex-officio president of the house retorted that Chaliha should then
return to Government all the tainted money he had so far earned as a
public servant.59 As a sequel to this altercation, his resignation from
the Council followed.
In December 1919, the annual conference of the Assam
Association at Barpeta passed a resolution recommending complete
eradication of the opium trade within the next ten years. In a follow-up
action, Ghanashyam Barua moved a resolution in the Assam
Legislative Council in 1920 for compulsory registration of all o p iu m

addicts of Assam proper and also to take a count of them at the tim e o f
the next population census. Even this harmless resolution was th ro w n
out by the European-dominated house.60
While the Congress leaders of Assam made a break with the lo n g
moderate tradition at this juncture and boycotted the first elections h e ld
under the Act of 1919, Ghanashyam collaborated with the rulers a n d
emerged as a minister under the Dyarchy. On the other hand, th e
Assam Association underwent a process of radicalization and fin ally
went into voluntary liquidation to make room for the Assam Pradesh
Congress Committee that was bom on 5 June 1921. It was under th e
latter’s leadership that the anti-opium agitation attained remarkable
success within ten to fifteen years. Gandhiji was at its helm.61
Y a b l e 12.1
Opium Revenue and Consumption in Assam : Index
1880-81 1890-01 1900-01 1910-11 1919-20 1920-21

Total Opium
Revenue
(Index No.) 100 110 110 152 234 270
Wholesale
Price per unit of opium
(Index No.) 100 142 142 154 192 219
Tc;al Opium
consumption in the province
(Index No.) 100 78 77 89 104 96
Total Opium
consumption in Assam Proper
(Index No.) 100 78 77 89 105 98
Consumption
per 10,000 people in the province(seers)
137.4 95.5 88.4 89.7 — 84.9
Consumption 345.0 233.8 222.2 — — 199.2
per 10,000 people in Assam proper* (seers)
Consumption
per 10,000 of Indigenous Assamese
People (seers)_________313.4 267.2 274.9 277.1 — 286.9
* Includes Sadiya-Balipara Frontier Tracts (plains portion).
SOURCE : The set of figures in the last row are reproduced from Assam Congress
Opium Enquiry Report [62], 97. The basis of calculation is not known except
that all people speaking Assamese and tribal languages in the Brahmaputra
Valley were listed as indigenous.
The rest of the figures are worked out from official sources. Consumption
figures includc Manipur. The resultant distortion however is negligible and
may be overlooked.
N otes
1. Dewan, Buranji Vivekaratna [8], 424-5.

2. Mills, Report on the Province o f Assam [66], Sibsagar-75.
3. Quote from Welsh to Shore, 12 Feb. 1794, Foreign Pol Proc [35], 24 Feb.
. 1794, No. 13A; Bhuyan, Anglo-Assamese Relations [128], 316 and 322.
4. Bhuyan, ibid, 339.
5. . Butler, Travels and Adventures [133], 246 ; John Leslie, Asst. Surgeon at
Guwahati, to Secy., Medical Board, 8 Dec. 1830fo re ig n Pol Proc [35], 15
April 1831, No. 94.
6. Dhekial-Phukkan, Asam Buranji [22], 110.
7. Buchanan Hamilton, An Account o f Assam [38], 59.
8. G. Lamb, Surgeon, Dacca to Secy., Medical Board, 30 March 1831, Foreign
Pol. Proc. [35], 15 April 1832, No. 93(A), also Dhekial-Phukkan [22], 110.
9. Board of Trade (Opium) —Proc No. 1, 14 January 1817 cited in Bami, The
smuggling trade of opium in the Bengal Presidency 1793-1817" [125], 123-4.
10. Watt, A Dictionary o f Economic Products in India, Vol.6 [114], Pt. I, 59-60.
11. Ibid ; also, Banri [125], 123-4.
12. Maniram Dewan's petition to Mills, 1853, cited in Assam Congress Opium
Enquiry Report [62], 19.
13. Scott to Swinton, 28 Feb. 1827 dted in Barooah, David Scott in North-East
India [120], 101. Scott's estimate was obviously based on a quick survey of the
land records in 1825-26 and, hence, appears to have been fairly correct
14. Dhekial-Phukkan [22], 109.
15. The average yield was that of Nowgong, as given for 1847 by Butler [133], 244.
The population was estimated at seven to eight lakhs for Assam Proper,
following Assam's first census carried out by David Scott about 1826. Dhekial-
Phukkan (22],74-75. We have raised this estimate to one million. See also Note
26 below.
16. The League of Nations norm cited by Andrews, The Opium Evil in India. [117],
22.
17. Scott to Swinton, 28 Feb. 1827, dted by Barooah [120], 101.
18. Scott to Swinton, 17 Apnl 1830, Foreign Pol Proc [35], 7 May 1830, no 51.
19. Jenkins to Secy. Govt of Bengal, 22 July 1833, Para 58, Foreign Pol. Proc.
[35], 11 Feb. 1835* No. 90.
20. Exaction of a labour rent was the mainstay of the erstwhile revenue system of
the Ahom Kings.
21. Cash advances were made by the traders on a regular basis for ensuring deliveries
of the opium crop. Thornton, Gazetteer o f the Territories under the Government
o f the East Indid Company, Vol. 1 [103], 165-6.
22. Memorandum of Lt-Col Mathie in Mills, Report on the Province...[66],
appendix D, xvi ff.
23. Dhekial-Phukan, 'Observations on the administration in Assam' ibid [66]
appendix J, xxxi ff.
24. Maniram Dewan's petition, ibid, appended to the report on Sibsagar.
25. Mills, Report on the Province...[66], 19-20.
26. Extent o f Poppy Cultivations : 1852-53.
District Darrang Nowgong Sibsagar Lakhimpur Total
Culti
vation 1,271 1,993 1,311 1,173 5,750
(in Puras)
Source : Collated from district reports and appendices in Mills, Report... [66]. No.
figures are available for Kamrup.
The early data on cultivated acreage and population are based on field enquiries ;
nevertheless these suffer from undercoverage. For 1853, the population estimate was
1061, 513. —Ibid, appendix A. At the Census of 1872, the population of Assam Proper
was recorded as 1476,705.
27. Mills, Report on the Province... [66], 19-20.
28. Ibid, 68.
29. Assam planters' suggestions to Col. F. Jenkins, Selections from the Records o f
the Government o f Bengal, Vol 37 [79], 71.
30. Imperial Gazeetter o f India, vol 6 [102], 94.
31. Arunoday, Vol. 22 [209], January 1867. The district-wise breakdown of the
opium-excise revenue in the Brahmaputra Valley in 1864-65, according to this
source, was as follows.
District: Kamrup Darrang Nowgong Sibsagar Lakhimpur Goalpara

Rupees: 223,359 200,135 247,885 382,427 29,836 102,771
32. Driberg, 'Appendix xxx-historical account of the administration of opium in

Assam' in Royal Commission on Opium, Reports and Minutes o f Evidences
1893, Vol. 2. [61], 140 ; Assam Congress Opium Enquiry Report [62], 23.
33. Ibid, 23.
34. Evidence of Peal, 7 Dec., 1893, Royal Commission on Opium, Vol. 2, [61],
153. The ocher two opium-vending European planters who gave evidence were
E.P. Gilman and E. Bridge. —Ibid, 293 and 296.
35. Speech by P.G.Melitus, East Bengal and Assam Legislative Council Proc. [53],
6 April 1909, 80. The land revenue rales were doubled in 1868 and were again
increased by one-third on the average with effect from 1893 in Assam Proper.
36. Assam Congress Opium Enquiry Report [62], 15 and 36. Non-Assamese
plantation workers began to be slowly affected by the opium evil only since
about 1905. Out of 201 tea garden managers replying to the Botham Committee
in 1913, only 24 reported that 5 per cent or more of their labour force were
opium addicts and only 53 reported that the use of opium in their tea gardens
was increasing. —Ibid, 33. See also Reports o f the Excise Dept., Govt, of
Assam, 1906-07,1913-14 and 1918-19^60].
37. The decrease in population was due to the Kala-aiar (black fever) epidemic. Hie
Census authorities estimated the indigenous population on the basis of the
indigenous tribes and Hindu castes and found that it decreased 5.4 per cent
between 1881 and 1891 and 6.4 per cent between 1891 and 1901. —Census of
India, 1901, VoL 4, Assam-Part 1 Report [104], 27-30. Recalculated on the
basis of the indigenous linguistic groups, the cumulative decline over the two
decades appears to have been 7.7 per cent —Assam Congress Opium Enquiry
Report [62], 14 and 97.
38. For example, the government revenue structure during the three years, 1921-22
to 1923-24, was as follows :—
Total Revenue Total Excise Revenue Opium Revenue
(Rs.1000) (Rs.1000) (Rs.1000)
1921-22 24333 6,158 3,917
1922-23 21,888 5,681 3,586
1923-24 22,565 6,225 3,810
68,786 18,064 11,313

(100) (26.2) (16.4)
Source : Excise Statistical Tables fo r the Province o f Assam [113], 96-97 ; relevant
annual reports, Excise Dept, Assam [60] ; Assam Congress Opium Enquiry
Report [62], 45.
39. Evidence of Driberg, Royal Commission on Opium, Vol 2 [61], 454. From
1894-95 onwards, the grower received a price of Rs. 6 a seer and by 1922-23,
this price gradually increased to Rs. 15 a seer. Accordingly, the ex-factory cost
of opium also went on increasing.
40. Report o f the Excise Dept., 1906-07 [60], 15.
41. Ibid. The Excise Report of 1926-27 notes that 261 tea garden coolies were newly
issued permits as consumers in that year.
42. Royal Commission on Opium, Vol 2 [61], 265-6,286 and 305-8.
43. Ibid, 266-7,296-9, 300-5 and 462.
44. Ibid, 296 and 298 for the quotes.
45. 'Humble memorial of the Jorhat Sorbojanik Sobha', ibid, appendix xxxvi, 462.
In course of his evidence, Haribilas Agarwala said : 'Opium eaters take opium to
enable them to perform their work'. —Ibid, 266-7.
For Indian leaders' attitudes, see Bipan Chandra, The Rise and Growth o f
Economic Nationalism in India... [137], 563-71.
For example, J.R. McCullock 'was ultimately prepared to make some
compromise in his commitment to full-blooded laissez faire in the case of the
procurement and disttribution of opium, and he recommended in 1863 a policy
of revenue maximisation through its monopoly pricing. —Barber, British
Economic Thought and India 1600-1858... [119], 186.
Evidence of Driberg on 27 Dec. 1893, Royal Commission on Opium [61],
277.
Evidences of Ganguli and Driberg, ibid, 248 and 275, respectively. According to
the latter, the Kachari tribe in 1893 could not be stamped as opium eaters. —
Ibid, 261. However, by 1908-09 the situation changed. The Excise Report for
the year [60] noted the prevalence of the Opium habit among them to a
regrettable extent
Evidence of Ramdurlabh Mazumdar of Nowgongon 24 Nov. 1893, Royal
Commission on Opium [61], 60-62 and, also, evidence of Changkakati, ibid,
305.
Ditferin Enquiry, Proc No. 10 [73], 1-92.
Report o f the Committee Appointed to Enquire into Certain Aspects o f Opium
and Ganja Consumption (Botham Committee, 1913) [63], 2-3.
Cited in Imper'uU Gazetteer o f India [102], 245-6.
Editorial of Asamiya [210], 29 July 1923. Records of the Assam Association are
not extant; hence, details are not available.
Assam Congress Opium Enquiry Report [62], 142 ; Chaudhuri, N ilm ani
Phukanar Chintadhara [198], 16.
Speeches by P. Gohain-Barua and W.M. Kennedy, Assam Legislative Council
Proc. [50], 10 April 1913, 72 and 86 ; also speeches by P.G. Melitus, East
Bengal and Assam Legislative Council Proc. [53], 6 April 1909, 80 and ibid, 5
April 1910, 95.
Botham Committee,1913 [63] 1-23. The Assamese members of the Botham
Committee were Kaliprasad Chaliha, Radhanath Phukan and Kutubuddin
Ahmed.,
Ibid.
Phanidhar Chaliha's speech on the budget and the Chief Commissioner’s
comment from the chair. —Assam Legislative Council Proc. [50], 5 April
1919,64-65 and 90.
Ibid. 8 April 1920,92-100.
For further details of the nationalist challenge to the opium menance, Guha,
Planter-Raj to Swaraj.. .[156].
BIBLIOGRAPHY
My published papers which, with marginal modifications, form the text of this
book are serially listed below with necessaiy details. Hie bibliography as such follows
thereafter and includes such source materials as have been cited in this volume. The
materials are all serially numbered so that a source could be briefly cited in the footnotes
of the text with reference to its numbered entry therein for further details.
The Section on Primary Sources is arranged on the basis of the nature of their
contents under several heads as follows :
Catalogues/Books on Inscriptions« Coins, Treaties etc..

Unpublished Literary Works and Chronicles.
Published Chronicles (Buranji).
Manuscript Public and Private Documents or their Transcripts.
Printed Public and Private Documents, Reports, Monographs, Letters etc.
Articles in Periodicals and Compiled Volumes.
Gazetteers, Census and Statistical Volumes, Dictionaries etc.
The section on Secondary Sources is arranged alphabetically on the basis of the

surnames of their authors/editors under two heads as follows :
Books and Articles.

Periodicals and Serials.
PAPERS AS MENTIONED ABOVE

I "Geography behind history : an introduction to the socio-economic study of
northeast India", in Professor D. D. Kosambi Commemoration Volume :
Science and Human Progress (Bombay, 1974).
II "A historical perspective for north-east India", Man in India, Vol. 62,
September 1982.
III "Land rights and social classes in medievd Assam", IES HR, Vol. 3, September
1966.
IV "Ahom migration : its impact on rice economy of medieval Assam",
Arthavijnana, Vol. 9, June 1967.
V Tribaliam to feudalism in Assam 1600-1750", Indian Historical Review, VoL
1, March 1974.
VI "Neo-vaishnavism to insurgency : peasant uprisings and the crisis of feudalism
in late-eighteenth century Assam", in Ashok Mitra, ed., The Truth Unites
Essays in Tribute to Samar Sen (Calcutta, 1985).
VII "Colonisation of Assam : years of transitional crisis (1825-40YJESHR, Vol.
5, June 1968.
VIE "Colonisation of Asam : second phase 1840-1859", IESHR, Vol. 4, December
1967.
IX "A big push without a take-off : a case study of Assam 1871-1901", IESHR,
Vol. 5, September 1968.
298 MEDEVIAL AND EARLY CX)LLONIAL ASSAM
X "Impact of Bengal renaissance on Assam 1925-1875Hf IESHR, Vol. 9,

September 1972.
XI "Assamese agrarian society in the late nineteenth centuiy : roots, structures and
trends", IESHR, Vol. 17, Januaiy-March 1980.
XII "Imperialism of opium in Assam : 1773-1921", Calcutta Historical Journal,
VoL 1, January-June 1977.
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C atalogues/B ooks on Inscriptions/C oins/T reaties etc.
1. Kamarupa Sasanavali, ed. P. N. Bhattacharya, Banaras, 1931.

2. Inscriptions o f Ancient Assam, ed. M. M. Sharma, Guwahati University, 1978.
3. Prachya-Sasanavali; An Anthology o f Royal Charters etc. Inscribed on Stone,
Copper etc. o f Kamarupa, Assam (Saumara), Koch-Behar etc. from 1205 A. D.
to 1847 A. D., ed. Maheswar Neog, Guwahati, 1974.
4. Descriptive Catalogue o f Assamese Manuscripts, ed. H. C. Goswami, Calcutta
University, 1930.
5. Catalogue o f the Provincial Coin Cabinet Assam, ed. A. W. Botham, 2nd edn.,
Allahabad, 1930.
6. A Collection o f Treaties, Engagements and Sunnads Relating to India's
Neighbouring Countries, Vol. 1, ed. C. U. Aitchison, Calcutta, 1876.
Unpublished Ms L iterary W orks/Chronicles
7. Dharmadev Sharma, Dharmodaya-natakam (Sanskrit Play), 1770, preserved at

DHAS, but later irretrievably lost
8. Dewan, Maniram, Buranji-vivekaratna, 1838, chronicle in Assamese preserved at
DHAS.
9. Anonymous, Lakshmi Simhar Buranji, 18th-century chronicle preserved at
DHAS.
Published L iterary W orks/C hronldcs
10. Anonymous, Yoginitantram (Sanskrit text of c. 17th century, with Assamese

translation), Datta-Barua edn., Guwahati, 1972.
In Assamese
11. Anonymous, Assam-Buranji, From the Earliest Time to the End o f Ahom Rule ,
ed. S. K. Bhuyan, 2nd edn., Guwahati, 1960.
12. Anonymous, Deodhai Asam Buranji (compiled from old Assamese chronicles)%
ed. S. K. Bhuyan, Guwahati, 1962.
13. —, Kamrupar Buranji, ed., S. K. Bhuyan, 2nd edn. Guwahati, 1958.
14. —, Satsari Asam Buranji (a collection o f seven old buranjis or chronicles with
synopses).,ed. S. K. Bhuyan, 3rd edn., Guwahati, 1969.
15. Shrinath Duara (Barbarua), Tungkhungia Buranji, c. 1806, ed. S. K. Bhuyan,
2nd edn., Guwahati, 1964.
16. Chidananda Goswami, Aniruddhadevar Charitra am Mayamara Satrar
Vamshavali, Dibrugarh, 1931.
17. Utsavananda Goswami, Maloupatharar Buranji, Jorhat, c. 1929.
BIBLIOGRAPHY 299
18. Dutiram Hazarika and Bisweswar Vaidyadhip, Asamar Padya-buranji (two

metrical chronicles), ed. S. K. Bhuyan, 2nd edn., Guwahati, 1984.
19. Harakanta Barua Sadar-Amin, Asam Duranji, ed. S. K. Bhuyan, 2nd edn.,
Guwahati, 1962.
20. Kasinath Tamuli-Phukan, Asam Buranji-Sar (Sibsagar, 1844), reprint, ed. P. C.
Chaudhuri, Guwahati, 1964.
21. Shankardev, Bhagavata, 16th centuiy, ed. H. N. Datta-Barua, 2nd edn., Nalbari,
1948.
22. Haliram Dhekial-Phukkan, Asam Buranji (Calcutta, 1829), reprint ed. J.
Bhattacharya, Guwahati, 1962.
In English
23. Ahom Buranji From the Earliest Time to the End ofAhom Rule, ed. and trans.
G. C. Barua, Calcutta, 1930.
24. J. P. Wade, An Account o f Assam, 1800 (translated version of two anonymous
chronicles), ed. Benudhar Sharma, 1st edn., 1927, reprint Guwahati 1972.
25. Annals o f the Delhi Badshahate Being a translation o f the old Assamese
Chronicle Padshah Buranji, ed. and trans. S. K. Bhuyan, DHAS, Guwahati,
1947.
26. Tungkhungia Buranji or the History o f Assam 1681-1806 A. D.,cd. and trans. S.
K. Bhuyan, Guwahati, 1968.
27. History o f India as Told by Its Own Historians, Vol. 2, ed. H. M. Elliot and J.
Dowson, London, 1866-67.
Unpublished Public and Private Ms Documents a t DHAS
28. Transcripts : File containing the following reports—Mathie from Tezpur to

Jenkins, 15 Feb. 1835 ; Brodie from Nowgong to Jenkins, 15 Nov., 1835 ;
Bogle to Jenkins, Sept 1835 and Jenkins to Secy^toGOI,Revenue DepL, 3 Feb.
1836.
29. Col. Adam White, Historical Miscellany, Vols. 1-2.
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32. Bengal Political Consultations.
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36. Foreign Secret Proceedings, 14 Nov. 1828, No. 3.
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No. Revenue A O ct 1898, -Nos. 87, 88 and 97.
P rinted Public and Private Documents, R eports, M onographs,

L etters etc.
}
38. Francis Buchan an-Hamilton, An Account o f Assam First Compiled 1807-14, ed.
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Agricultrue, Shillong, 1893.
46. H. Z. Darrah, Noie on the Work Done by the Land Records Department in the
Assam Valley Districts, Shillong, 1894.
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Chaudhuri, Dhaka, 1889.
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1917.
49. Assam Proceedings, Revenue Agriculture and Commerce Dept., Govt of India,
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51. Assam Proceedings, Legislative Dept., Govt of Bengal.
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54. Indian Legislative Council Proceedings, 1901, Vol. 40.
55. Annual Reports on Inland Emigration into the Districts o f Assam, Cachar and
Sylhet, 1878 to 1914-15, Govt of Bengal.
56. Report o f the Assam Labour Enquiry Committee, 1906, Calcutta, 1906.
57. Report o f the Assam Labour Enquiry Committee, 1921-22, Shillong, 1922.
58. Report o f the Commissioners Appointed to Enquire into the Stale and Prospects
o f Tea Cultivation in Assam, Cachar and Sylhet 1868, Govt, of Bengal,
Calcutta, 1868.
59. Papers Relating to the Tea Industry of Bengal, Govt of Bengal, Calcutta, 1873.
60. Excise Dept, of the Govt, of Assam, Annual Reports.
61. Royal Commission on Opium, Reports and Minutes o f Evidences 1983, Vol. 2.
62. Assam Congress Opium Enquiry Report, Jorhat, 1925.
63. Report o f the Committee Appointed to Enquire into Certain Aspects o f Opium
and Ganja Consumption, Govt, of Assam, Shillong, 1913. Also referred to as
Botham committee.
64. Addresses Presented to His Excellency the Right Honble Lord Curzon o f
Kedleston...the Viceroy, Assam, March 1900, Shillong, 1900.
65. Report o f the Assam Provincial Banking Enquiry Committee, 1929-30,2 Vols.,
Govt, of India, 1930.
66. A. J. M. Mills, Report on the Province o f Assam. Calcutta, 1854.
67. A. J. M Mills, Report o f the Khasia and Jaintia Hills 1853, Shillong. 1901.
68. W. J. Allen, Report on the Administration o f the Cossyah and Jyanttah Hill
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77. Papers from the Indian Law Commissioners Relating to Slavery in the East
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Calcutta, 1847.
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1901.
A rticles in Periodicals and Complied Volumes
84. Anonymous, "Another chapter on Assam", Calcutta Review, Vol. 21, July-Dcc.
1853.
85. S. Bama, "Some ancient relics found in North Lakhimpur", JARS, Vol. 3,
1935.
86. Moneeram Revenue Saristadar Bur Bhandaree, "Native account of washing gold
in Assam" (Communicated by Capt F. Jenkins to the Coal and Mineral
Committee), JASB, P t 1, Vol. 7, July 1838.
!
87. Muneeram Bur Bhandaree Barrooa, "On the Mezanguree silk of Assam and
plants whereon the worm feeds". Transactions, o f the Agricultural and
Horticultural Society o f India, Vol. 7,1840.
88. Mohammed Cazim, "A description of Assam" 1663, trans. from Persian by
Henry Vansiuart, Asiatick Researches, Vol. 2, London, 1801.
89. T. T. Cooper, "New routes for commerce : the Mishmi Hills, 1873" in India's
\
North-East Frontier in the Nineteenth Century, ed. V. El win, London, 1959.
90. E. T. Dalton, "Mahapurushiyas : a sect of Vaishnavas in Assam", JASB, P t I,
Vol. 20, 1851.
302 MEDEVIAL AND EARLY CX)LL0N1AL ASSAM
91. Dwarakanath Ganguli, Slavery in Indian Dominion, cd. K.L. Chattopadhyaya, a

collection of thirteen articles originally published in the Bengalee, Sept. 1886 to
April 1887. Calcutta. 1972.
92. A. B. Griswold and P. Nagara, "Epigraphic and historical studies no. 9 : the
inscription of Ramkamhaeng of Sukhothai (1292 A.D.)" The Journal o f the
Siam Society, VoL 59, P l 2, July 1971.
93. P.R.T. Gurdon, "A short note on the Ahoms" in Encyclopaedia o f Religion and
Ethics, ed. J. Hastings, VoL 1, 1908.
94. S. O. Hannay, "A short account of the Moa Marah sect and of the country at
present occupicd by the Bor Senaputtee", JASB P l I, Vol. 7, August 1838.
95. B. H. Hodgson, HOn the origin, location, numbers, creed, customs, character and
condition of the Koch, Bodo, Dhimal people with a general description of the
climate they dwell inH, JASB, P l 2, VoL 18, 1849.
96. Thomas Hugon, "Remarks on the silk worms and silks of Assam", JASB, P l I,
VoL 6, January 1837.
97. S.N. Rao, "Sarutaru : a neolithic site in Assam", Man and Environment
(Ahmedabad), VoL 1 ,1977.
98. ------, "Continuity and survival of neolithic traditions in northeast India", Asian
Perspectives (Howaii) ; VoL 20,1980.
99. Shihabuddin Talish, Fathiya-i Ibria, 1663, partially trans., Jadunath Sarkar,
"Assam and the Ahoms in 1660 A.D.", Journal o f the Bihar and Orissa Research
Sôeity, Voi. I, 1915.
100. Lt. Yule, "Notes on the iron of the Kasia hills for the museum of economic
geology", JASB, P l 2, .Vol. H, 1842.
G azetteers, Census and Statistical Volumes, M onographs,

D ictionaries etc.
101. B.C. Allen, Assam Provincial District Gazetteers, Vols. 1-10, Calcutta, 1905-
1906.
102. Imperial Gazetteer o f India, VoL 6, New edn., Oxford, 1908.
103. Edward Thornton, Gazetteer o f the Territories under the Government of the East
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104. Census of India, 1881, etc.. Reports and Tables on Assam.
105. Census of India, 1951, West Bengal District Handbooks : Jalpaiguri, Calcutta.
106. Census of India, 1961, Assam District Census Handbooks : Sibsagar, Calcutta,
1965, etc.
107. W.W. Hunter, A Statistical Account o f Assam, VoL I, London, 1879.
108. GOI, Dept of Revenue and Agriculture, Returns o f Agricultural Statistics o f
British India, Vol. 1 ,1884-85.
109. GOI, Statistical Bureau, Agricultural Statistics o f British India, fo r the years
1890-91 to 1894-95.
110. GOI, DcpL of Statistics, Financial and Commerical Statistics o f British Ind 'ui,
annual issues from 6th (1899) to 13th (1907).
111. GOI, Dept of Statistics,Prices and Wages in India, 19th Issue.
112. GOI, Dept, of Statistics, Statistical Tablesfor British India, 5th Issue, Calcutta,
1881 ; 13th Issue, Calcutta, 1889.
113. Excise Statistical Tables for the Province o f Assam, Shillong, 1927.
114. George Watt, A Dictionary o f Economic Products o f India, VoL 6, P l 1, 1892.
115. George Watt, th e Commerical Products o f India, London, 1908.
116. Hemakosh, Assamese dictionary, 4th edn., Sibsagar, 1965.
SECONDARY SOURCES
Books And Articles
In English •
117. C.F. Andrews, The Opium Evil in India : Britain's Responsibility, London,
1926.
118. H.A. Anlrobus, A History o f the Assam Company 1839-1953, Edinburgh,
1957.
119. W J. Barber, British Economic Thought and India 1600-1858 : A Study o f the
History o f Development Economics, Oxford, 1975.
120. N.K. Barooah, David Scott in North-East India, 1802-1831: A Study in British
Paternalism, Delhi, 1970.
121. K.L. Bama, Early History o f Kamarupa, From the Earliest Times to the End o f
the Sixteenth Century, 2nd edn., Guwahati, 1966.
1/2. B.K. Barua, Studies in Early Assamese Literature, Nowgong, 1953.
123. ------, A Cultural History o f Assam (Early Period), 2nd edn., Guwahati, 1969.
124. H.K. Barpujari, Assam in the Days o f the Company 1826-1858, Guwahali,
1963.
125. B.C. Barui, "The smuggling trade of opium in the Bengal Presidency 1793-
181T , Bengal Past and Present, VoL 94, July-Dee. 1975.
126. S. Bhauacharya, "Cultural and social constraints on technological innovation",
IESIIR, Vol. 3, Sept 1966.
127. S.K. Bhuyan, Lachit Barphukan and His Times, Guwahati, 1947.
128. ------, Anglo-Assamese Relations 1771-1826 : A History o f the Relations o f
Assam with the East India Company from 1771 to 1826, Based on Original
English and Assamese Sources, 2nd edn., Guwahali, 1974.
129. Marc Bloch, French Rural History, London, irans. edn., 1966.
130. I.N. Borra, Bolinarayan Borrah : His life, Work and M usings, Calcutta, 1967.
131. D.H. Buchanan, The Development o f Capitalist Enterprise in India, New York,
1934.
132. John Butler, Sketch o f Assam with some Account o f the Hill Tribes by an
Officer, London, 1847.
133. ------, Travels and Adventures in the Province o f Assam During a Residence o f
Fourteen Years, London, 1854.
134. S.K. Chatierjce, The Place o f Assam in the History and Civilisation o f India,
University of Guwahati, 1955.
135. B.N. Chaudhury, An Economic History o f Assam 1845-58, Guwahati, 1959. It
is a thin booklet
136. P.C. ¿houdhury, The History o f the Civilisation o f the People o f Assam to the
Twelfth Century A D ., DIIAS, Guwahati, 1959 : 2nd edn., 1966.
137. Bipan Chandra, The Rise and Growth o f Economic Nationalism in India :
Economic Policies o f Indian National Leadership 1880-1905, reprint, Delhi,
1969.
138. Henry Colton, Indian and Home Memories, London, 1911.
139. E.T. Dalton, Descriptive Ethnology o f Bengal, 1872, reprint, Calcutta, 1960.
140. Dang Nghien Van, "An ouiline of the Thai in Vietnam", Vietnam Studies
(Hanoi), Vol. 8,1972.
141. A.H. Dani, Prehistory and Protohistory of Eastern India, Calcutta, 1960.
304 MEDEVIAL AND EARLY COLLONIAL ASSAM
142. S. Endle, The Kacharis, London, 1911.

143. Thomas Fitzsimmons, ed. Thailand, New Haven, 1956.
144. Andrew Gunder Frank, "The development of underdevelopment", Monthly
Review, Sept. 1966.
145. Bamfylde Fuller, Some Personal Experiences, Loodon, 1930.
146. C. Von Furer-Haimendorf, The Apatanis and Their Neighbours, London, 1962.
147. D.R. Gadgil, The Industrial Evolution in India in Recent Times 1860-1939. 5th
edn., Delhi, 1973.
148. E. A. Gait, Report on the Progress o f Historical Research in Assam, Shillong,
1897.
149. ------, A History o f Assam, 1905,3rd revised edn., Calcutta, 1967.
150. Bcnoy Ghose, "A critique of Bengal renaissance". Frontier, Vol. 4, 25 Sept.
1971.
151. H.R. Ghosal, The Economic Transition o f Bengal Presidency, 1793-1833, 2nd
edn., Calcutta, 1966.
152. Padmeswar Gogoi, Tai-Ahom Religion and Customs, Guwahati, 1976.
153. Hiren Gohain, "Origins of the Assamese middle class", Social Scientist, Vol.
13, August 1973.
154. D.A. Graham, Siam, Vol. 1, London, 1924.
155. G.A. Grierson, Linguistic Survey o f India, Vol. 2, 1904.
156. Amalcndu Guha, Planter-Raj to Swaraj : Freedom Struggle and Electoral
Politics in Assam 1826-1947, Indian Council of Historical Research, New
Delhi, 1977.
157. ------, "The Moamaria Revolution : was it a class war ? ", The Daily Assam
Tribune, 18 Oct., 1950.
158. ------, "Socio-economic changes in agrarian Assam" in Trends in Socio-
Economic Change in India 1871-1961, ed. M. Chaudhuri, Simla, 1969.
159. Amalcndu Guha, "The Ahom political system : an enquiry into State formation
in medieval Assam : 1228-1714", Social Scientist, VoL 11, Dec. 1983.
160. ------, "The medieval economy of Assam" in The Cambr 'ulge Economic History
o f India, Volume 1 c. 1200-1750, ed. T. Raychaudhuri and Irfan Habib,
Cambridge University Press, 1982.
161. Pcrcival Griffiths, The History o f the Indian Tea Industry, London, 1967.
162. P.R.T. Gurdon, The Khasis, London, 1914.
163. T.C. Hodson, The Meitheis, London, 1908.
164. B.B. Kling, "The origin of the managing agency system in India", Journal o f
Asian Studies, Vol. 26, Nov. 1966.
165. D.D. Kosambi, Introduction to the Study c f Indian History, Bombay, 1956.
166. ------, The Culture and Civilization o f Ancient India in Historical Outline,
London, 1965.
167. R.M. Lahiri, The Annexation o f Assam, Calcutta, 1954.
168. E.P. Leach, Political Systems o f Highland Burma : A Study o f Kachin Social
Structure, London, 1954.
169. J. Long, A Descriptive Catalogue o f Bengali Works, Calcutta, 1855.
170. A Mackcnjic, History o f the Relations o f the Government with Hill Tribes o f
the North-East Frontier of Bengal, Calcutta, 1884.
171. D.A. Maclcod, Sketch o f Medical Topography o f Bishnath, Calcutta, 1837.
172. Harold H. Mann, "The early history of the tea industry in northeast India",
Bengal Economic Journal, Vol. 2, 1918.
173. J. McTosh, Topography o f Assam, Calcutta, 1837.
174. Karl Marx, Capital: A Critique o f Political Economy, Vol. 3, Moscow, 1971.
BIBLIOGRAPHY 305
175. K. Marx and F. Engels, Manifesto o f the Communist Party, Moscow, 1965.
176. ------, Selected Works in Three Volumes, Vol. 3, Moscow, reprint, 1973.
177. J. McTosh,"Account of the Mountain tribes of the extreme North East Frontier
of Bengal”, JASB, Vol. 5, April 1836.
178. Aditya Mukheijee, "Agrarian conditions in Assam 1880-1890 : a case study of
five districts in the Brahmaputra Valley", LESHR, Vol. 16, April-June 1979.
179. I. Mcazaros, ed., Aspects c f History and Class Consciousness, London, 1971.
180. Maheswar Neog, S an karadeva and His Times : Early History o f the Vaishnava
Faith and Movement in Assam, Guwahati University, 1965.
181. ------, Socio-Political Events in Assam Leading to the Militancy o f the
Mayamariya Vaishnavas, Centre for Studies in Social Sciences, Calcutta, 1982.
182. R.L. Pendleton, Thailand, American Geological Society, New York, 1962.
183. William Robinson, A Descriptive Account o f Assam, Calcutta/London, 1841.
184. S.N. Sarma, The Neo-Vaishnavite Movement and the Satra Institution o f
Assam, Guwahati, 1966.
185. Ram Mohun Roy on Indian Economy, ed. S.C. Sarkar, Calcutta, 1965.
186. Amit Sen, Notes on the Bengal Renaissance, 2nd edn., Calcutta, 1957.
187. L. W. Shakespeare, History o f Upper Assam, Upper Burmah and North-eastern
Frontier, London, 1914.
188. H.W. Singer, "The distribution of gains between investing and borrowing
countires", The American Economic Review, Vol. 40, May 1950.
189. Virginia Thompson, Thailand : The New Siam, New York, 1941.
190. Daniel Thomer, "Great Britain and development of India’s railways". Journal of
Economic History, Fall, 1951.
191. ------, "The pattern of railway development in India", Far Eastern Quarterly,
Feb., 1955.
192. A. Tripathi, Trade and Finance in Bengal Presidency 1793-1833, Calcuita, 1956.
In Assamese
193. T.K. Agarwala, ed., Haribilas Agarwala Dangariyar Atmajivani, late 19th
century Ms, Guwahati, 1967.
194. Gunabhiram Bania, Anandaram Dhekiyal Phukanar Jivan-Charitra, 1880,
reprinted 2nd edn. 1915, Guwahati, 1971.
195. Prafullachandra Bania, Uttamchandra Baruar Jivani, Guwahati, 1962.
196. K. C. Bardoloi, ed., Sadar-Aminar Atmajivani, Guwahati, 19th c. Ms., 1960.
197. J. Bhuyan, ed., Ratneswar Mahanla Rachanavali„ Guwahati, 1977.
198. Dilip Chaudhuri, Nilmani Phukanar Chintadhara, Guwahati, 1972.
199. Nalinibala Devi, Eri Aha Dinbor, Guwahati, 1976.
200. Anandaram Dhckial-Phukan, "Inglandar Bivaran", Arunoday (Sibsagar), Vol. 2,
April 1847.
201. Maheswar Neog, Shri Shri Shankardev, 3rd edn., Guwahati, 1958.
202. ------, Purani Asamiya Satnaj aru Samskriti, Dibrugarh, 1957.
203. Bcnudhar Sharma, Maniram Dewan, Guwahati, 1950.
In Bengali
204. Anandaram Dhckial-Phukan, Ain O Byavastha Samgraha : Notes on the Laws o f
Bengal, Calcutta, 1855.
306 MEDEVIAL AND EARLY OOLLONIAL ASSAM
Periodical and Serials
In English
205. Asiatic Journal or Monthly Register o f British and Foreign, India, China c
Australia, New Series, VoL 2, May-August 1830.
206. LikPhan Tai (Periodical, Guwahati), VoL 1 ,1966.
207. The Hindoo Patriot (Daily, Calcutta).
208. The Bengalee (Daily, Calcutta).
In Assamese
209. (Arundoi) lArunoday (Monthly, Sibsagar): 1846-83.
210. Asamiya (Weekly, Dibrugarh).
211. Banhi (Monthly, CakuttaZGuwahati).
212. Batori (Daily, Tbengal).
213. Mau (Monthly, Calcutta), VoL 1 :1886-87.
In Bengali
214. Samachar Darpan (Monthly, Scrampore).
INDEX OF NAMES
[ Alternate spellings of names, if any, are ignored. ]
Anand* nun Dhckial D. D. Kosambi 25, 41

Phukan 187, 21 0 -1 , Dadabhai Naoroji 288
215, 2 2 3 -8 , Dalton, E. T. 12, 17, 69
232-3, 246, Damodardcv 99, 104
256, 264, 267- Darrah, H. Z. 232, 236, 253,
8 , 281, 283, 256, 258, 260
288. Devicharan Barua 288
AnirudUhadcv 25, 66 , 100, Dharmadev Shanna 128
112, 127 Driberg, J. J. S. 289
Astabhujadcv 114, 116 Dutiram Hazarika 126
Atmaram Shanna 209 Dwarkanaih Ganguly 289
Aurangzcb 93 Dwarkanath Tagore 173
Badal Gaoburha 117 Eden, Sir Ashley 4
Baikunihanath Dev 91, 105 Fisher, Thomas 12, 69
Balbhadra Ata 104 Gadadhar Singha 45, 48, 90-1,
Banasura 35 105
Bar*Yadumanidcv 100 Gandharvaray 42
Bayan Deka 115-6 Gaurinath Singha 120, 128
Becher, Mr 161 Ghanshyam Barua 291-2
Bhabananda 104 Gilchrist, Dr. 208
Bhagadaita 35 Gopaldcv 25, 100, 112
Bharat 118, 120-1 Govinda Gaoburha 115-7
Bhauaswamin 36 Gunabhiram Barua 56, 211, 215,
Bhoiar Konwar 119 245, 249, 288
Bidur 118 Gurdon, P. R. T. 5
Black stone, W. 210, 224 Haidhan 119
Bloch, Marc 25 Haji Ispahani 173
Bogle, G. 53 Haliram Dhckial
Bolinarayan Bora 264 Phukkan 139-40, 207-8,
Botham, A. W. 291 210 , 282
Brodie, T. 50 Halliday, Ll -Governor 216
Bruce, C. A. 166 Hannay, S.O. 66-7
Buchanan-Hamilton, F. 12, 69, 139-41, Haradaua Chaudhuri 119
281 Harakanta Barua
Butler, John 9. 13, 63, 70, Sadar-Amin 226-7, 242
249 Haribilas Agarwala 288
Chand Sadagar 21 Harihar Tanti 117-8
Chandibar Kayasiha 42 Hastings, Warren 280
Charal 117 Ilcmchandra Barua 215-6, 288
Chauirbhujdcv 92 llcmchandra Gocwami 29-30
Chaiurbhuj Ilodgson, B. H. 12, 69
(of Sesam ukh) 105 Ilowha 118
Cooper, T. 43 Hunter, W. W. 223, 243, 245
Cotton, Sir Heniy 234, 267-9 Indrapala 40, 74
Curzon, Lord 268-9 Iswarchandra Vidyasagar 215
308 MEDEVIAL AND EARLY COLLONIAL ASSAM
Jagannath Barua 269, 288 Naranarayan 103

Jenkins, Francis 12, 50, 74, Narayandas 104
129, 143, J45, Nityanandadev 104
148-9, 154, Obhotanumiya 117
164, 168-9, Padm ahas Goswami 215
175, 227, 283 Padmanalh Gohain Baraa290
Jinaram Kakati 246 Padmanalh Vidyavinod 30
Juggoram Khargharia Paramananda 117
Phukkan 207-8 Panimuwa , 121, 126
Juvan Dom 245 Parsad 118
K. L. Barua 30 Peal, S. E. 285
Kalia 119 Pearichand Mitra 210
Kalia Bhocnora 118 Pemberton, R. B. 167
Kalidhan 120 Phanidhar Chaliha 291
Kamalciwar Singha 120, 122, 281 Phatik Hajarika 119
Khagun 120 Phophai 118, 120
Kolaram Ganak 246-7 Pitambar 117, 120
Krishnanarayan 119 Poomananda Sharma
Lakshmi Singha 115, 122, 281 Dcka 216
Lephera 117 Prasanna Kumar Tagore 173
Long, Rev. J. 210 Praup Singha 87, 89-90, 104-
Lukacs, George 272 5
M. K. Gandhi 287, 291-2 Pura Barkalita 259-60
Madhavdev 24, 83, 99-100, Radha 115-6, 126
104 Radhakanta Dev 173, 208
Marihavchandra Radhanath Changkakati 288-9
Bardoloi 242, 288 Radhanalh Kataki 209
Mahendranaih Phukan 288 Ragh Neog 114-6
Mainapowa 119 Rajeswar Singha 48, 56, 113-4
Maniram Datta (Dewan) 128-30, 173, Ramananda 115-6
188, 2 1 0 -3 , Ramchandra Mitra 210
239, 283, Ramkamal Sen 173
Malhie, J. 50 Ramkham Haeng 43
Mathuradas 104 Rammohan Ray 206
McCuliock, W. 46 Robertson, T. C. 148
Mckheli 120 Robinson, W. 15, 70-1, 74,
Meghai 120 139
Mihiram Kcot 250-1 Rosheswar Barua 188
Milli, A. J. M. 211-2, 222-3, Ratnapala 40, 62
226, 228, 232, Rudra Singha 56, 90-1, 106
235, 239, 256, Rukmini 115-6, 126
283-4, 288 Rustomjee Cowasjce 173
Money, Col. 12 Rutherford 145
Motilal Seal 173 S. K. Bhuyan 47, 99, 108,
Mukunda Gosain 90, 104 127
Munsi Kefayatullah 215 S. N. Rao 35
Munsi Rahamat Ali 288 Sapubhuj 116
Naharkhora Saikia 115-6, 126 Saibananda 118, 121-2
Naiaka 35 . Satyanath Bora 288
INDEX 309
Scoli, D i vid 50, 141, 145-8, Swarup 119
227, 264, 282- Takaceh 120
3 ^ Tamai 118
Scott, Dr. 161 Tanganram 117
Shakcspear, Col. L. W. 10 Tokaru Kalita 250-1
Sibrara Bairagi 22 Trinayan Barkakaii 288
Smdhura Hajarika 119 Tuburi 120
Shankardev 24, 42, 83-4, Vajradalta 35
99-100 Vamshigopaldcv 100, 140
Shihabuddim Talish 21, 70, 85, 93 Vallabhadcva 40
Shiva Singha 106 Vetch, Major Hamilton 9
Suck, E. P. 19 Wade, J. P. 56
Sujinpha 48 Welsh, Captain Thomas 15, 139-41,
Sukapha 37, 65-7, 77 119-20, 123
Suklcnmung 36 265, 281
Sunanda 128 White, Col. Adam 207, 209
Suniti Kumar Chaiterjee 2 Yule, Ll 34
Suryakumar Chakravaiti,
Dr. 210

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MEDIEVAL AND EARLY COLONIAL ASSAM

Medieval and Early

1. The Geography behind The History 1

Professor Guha would have given us an etiolated narrative at best. He

We are now passing through periodic ethno-linguistic conflicts in

21 May 1990 Amiya Kumar Bagchi

Contributions included in this volume have been selected from a wide

variant of feudalism emerged directly from tribal formations. The first

contributions in the field. It is to their insistence that the present

Table No. Page

1.1 Population of the Hill Region : 8

8.5 Total Cultivated Acreage in Assam Proper. 181

[ Not many abbreviations have been used which need clarification.

CUP The Cambridge University Press

The Geography behind the History

Economic history essentially relates to the human factor which widely

Northeast India indudes Arunachal, Assam, Nagaland, Meghalaya, Mizoram, Manipur

Khasis, originally representing a shouldered stone hoe culture, are

In the following sections, an attempt will be made to gauge the

rest it requires thereafter. His indices of restored fertility are the

high banks. Water is let in at will by means of irrigation channels,

continued its existence till 1835. The Bodo-Kachari tribal state, on

District 1881 1891 Density per

SOURCElRelevant Census Reports [ 104 ]

In 1881 the density of population per square mile in the Khasi

T he E conomy of the P lains : T hree B ells

The Brahmaputra Valley (22,000 square miles) is an alluvial plain,

is shut in on every side except on the w est However, a number of

The Chapari belt

rains. Here, cultivaion involves annual slash-and-bum of the grass and

The Rupit belt

The Submontane belt (Dooars)

proposition. Bodo-Kachari tribes made use of this opportunity in the

In 1875, then, the Meches were going through a process of learning

Rajbansis. This happened despite their being experts in artificial

sixtytwo per cent of the total sugarcane production of the Brahmaputra

From another angle, the Brahmaputra valley may be divided into

prohibited thereafter. The early arrival of tobacco in Assam—the

The Barak Valley

passed. In fact, the trans-Dihing forests continued in existence down to

District Percentage of Density per No.of persons

Goalptra 500 98 209

SOURCElAdministrative Report, Assam, 1874-75 [39]; Census of India, Assam Report,

feature also in the past, because of frequent ravages of rivers, warfare

The traditional pattern of population distribution was considerably

I Bodo-Kachan Tribes uninfluenced by Hinduism

Total Bodo-Kachari Elements 875,233

Assam. Whatever be their racial origin, they appear to have always

from the privilege of close intercourse with the Barkalitas (high

in the eastern districts, did return themselves as belonging to some

3,158 in 1881. The Chutiya, Moran and Thengal-Kachari communities

What has gone before is an attempt to weave together signifies

framework of the socio-economic history of medieval Assam. The

(1489-1596), Gopaldev (1541-1611), Aniruddhadev (1553-1624) and

Caste-Group No. of Households As % of total

Koch 8,532 19.5

In northeast India we have a rich tradition of historical writing. Source

30 MEDIEVAL AND EARLY COLONIAL ASSAM

This brings us to the question of relations between the existing

wound up. This kind of state enterprise in historiography on an

historiography falls within what is conventionally called the modem

being incompetently handled than the conventional methodology.

throw a great deal of light on pre-thirteenth century Assamese