What makes Meghalaya an interesting place to visit?

 

It is worth visiting Meghalaya just to see waterfalls, such as Nohkhalikai falls, shown above. Located near Cherrapunji, this is tallest waterfall in India. Visitors are likely to be told the sad story of Ka Likai, after whom the falls were named. However, I will not spoil the experience for you by attempting to summarize the story here.

There was a cultural element to much of my sight-seeing in Meghalaya. That was certainly true of my visit to double-decker living root bridge at Nongriat, which I described in the preceding article on this blog as one of the highlights of my trip to India.

In this article I will further discuss my experience of sightseeing in Meghalaya, endeavoring to highlight cultural aspects. My focus is the east of Meghalaya, the part of the state I visited.

Area visited

This map might help those uncertain of the location of Meghalaya. The Indian state of Meghalaya is in India’s north-east, next to the Indian state of Assam, north of Bangladesh, and south of Bhutan.

Upon arrival at the airport in Guwahati (Assam) I was driven to Shillong, where I stayed for 2 nights. After a day of sightseeing to the east of Shillong, I visited a sacred forest on the way to Cherrapunji. I stayed in Cherrapunji for 3 nights, and saw many different things in that general area.

In what follows I will present a few photos to give some broad impressions before making some observations about culture and history of the Khasi people. 

Impressions

Shillong is a busy place. This photo is of tourists and locals at the main shopping centre, called Police Bazar.

This photo shows a scene that is fairly typical of the people and countryside as seen from roads east of Shillong.

Hilltop cultivation seems fairly common in the east of Meghalaya.

Krang Suri Falls are located in the Jaintia Hills east of Shillong. This waterfall may not yet be on the main tourist circuit, but there were quite a few Indian tourists there when I visited.

We stopped off at the Mawphlang Sacred Forest on the way from Shillong to Cherrapunjee. The photo is of an old Australian being shown around the forest by a local guide.  

This is the place in the sacred forest where bulls were once sacrificed to appease the gods. Although bulls are no longer sacrificed, the forest is still treated with great reverence. Nothing is allowed to be removed from it.

The Church of the Epiphany at Mawlynnong was founded in 1902. This village has had a strong tradition of Christianity since Welsh missionaries came here in the 19th century. Mawlynnong has been declared the cleanest village in Asia. Locals link their cleanliness to Christianity, apparently taking to heart the idea that cleanliness is next to godliness.

This photo of people engaged in a dart throwing competition was taken along the road to Dawki (on the Bangladesh border). It reminded me of something similar that I saw a decade ago when I visited Bhutan.

Culture and history

The majority of people in the east of Meghalaya are Khasi. They speak a Mon-Khmer language -the indigenous language family of mainland Southeast Asia - and their ancestors are thought to have migrated from that part of the world.

The inclusion of Meghalaya, and other states of the north-east as part of India, may have more to do with the legacy of British colonialism than with historical links to India. From a Khasi perspective, the central government of India replaced the colonial government of the British. Khasi enjoy a measure of local political autonomy via councils which they elect.

English is an official language of Meghalaya and is widely spoken there. Local guides and hotel staff were all proficient English speakers.

Mr Dipankar - the guide who accompanied me in Meghalaya, spoke excellent English. The only communication problem I became aware of arose when he was not present. I had been invited to have a meal with Hermina Lakiang - a historian associated with the North-Eastern Hill University in Shillong - and had arranged for my driver, Mr Simitar, to take me to her home. I knew that the driver had poor English, but I was slow to understand why he was having difficulty following the verbal directions that the professor was giving him about the location of her home. I later learned that they didn’t have a language in common. The driver was from Guwahati, and had no knowledge of Khasi, and the professor had not advanced her knowledge of Hindi beyond the rudimentary level she had attained at school. There was no reason for her to become a proficient Hindi speaker.

I am most grateful to have had the opportunity to have Hermina Lakiang explain some aspects of the culture and history of the Khasi to me. My understanding was greatly improved as a result of our discussion. However, the views presented below are my own – and the improvement of my understanding of Khasi culture and history was based on little knowledge to begin with.

Khasi follow a matrilineal system of inheritance, with the youngest daughter eligible to inherit the ancestral property. The youngest daughter is apparently expected to learn from mistakes made by her elder siblings.

The majority of Khasi are now Christians, but their ancestors believed in a Supreme Being as well as other deities of water, mountains, and other natural objects.  

Christian missionaries were much less successful in other parts of India, where most people are adherents of Hinduism or Islam, or in neighboring countries where Buddhism prevails. So, how did the Khasi manage to avoid being conquered and converted to Hinduism, Islam, or Buddhism, before British colonial rule exposed them to Christianity?

The most obvious answer is that Khasi are located in hilly regions that were relatively easy to defend and not particularly attractive to potential invaders seeking land that was easy to cultivate.

However, as Sanjib Baruah points out in his book, In the Name of the Nation (2020, 29) the Khasi only became confined to the hills after confrontation with the British East India Company in 1789.

Edward Gait, a British colonial administrator, included a chapter on the “Jaintia Kings”, in his book entitled, A History of Assam, which was first published in 1906. (During the colonial era, the whole of the north-east region of India was referred to as Assam.)

Gait’s account suggests that the Jaintia kings ruled the Sylhet region (now in Bangladesh) from around 1500. These kings had Hindu names, but Gait suggests that the religion and culture of the people was never much influenced by Hinduism. He cites some evidence that matrilineal system of inheritance was still followed by the Jaintia royal family.

Concluding comments

In the light of the observation made earlier to the effect that the inclusion of Meghalaya in India was a legacy of British colonialism, it is worth mentioning that some colonial administrators had expressed fears of what might happen to the culture of the Khasi following transfer of power to Indian hands. Sanjib Baruah cites Robert Reid, a former governor of Assam, among those who had argued in the 1940s for continued British control of the “Hill Areas” on paternalistic grounds (29-30).

The experience of the last 70 years has demonstrated that the fears of British colonists of what might happen under Indian control were unwarranted. As Baruah notes, the colonial safeguards to protect the people in those areas were largely retained and placed under the supervision of elected bodies following decolonization.

The impression I gained from my short visit is that Khasi people are proud of their cultural heritage, and that many are eager to defend it.

What were the highlights of my trip to India?

 

This photo of me at the Gateway to India in Mumbai was taken on May 13 at the end of my 16-day visit to northern India. This colonial monument was built to commemorate the visit of King George V in 1911, but is now one of the prime tourist attractions in Mumbai.

As I walked among the people visiting the monument, I was bemused by the thought that I might be the only foreign tourist among them. 

I felt welcome. As occurred several times during my holiday, some local people struck up conversation with me, asking where I was from (and how many children I had).

My hat was another common topic of conversation. Several people asked where they could buy a hat like my Akubra during the “golden triangle” leg of my journey (Delhi, Agra, Jaipur) when the maximum daily temperature was about 45 degrees Celsius (113 F). The heat didn’t bother me as much as the poor air quality. The only time I felt distressed by the heat was at Agra Fort, which tends to absorb heat. My hat certainly helped and I had respite when I was being driven from place to place in an airconditioned car. Many local people are not so fortunate – media reports suggest that some have suffered heat stroke.

Why visit northern India?

I have wanted to visit India for as long as I can remember, so when I heard that India was again welcoming tourists, it seemed like a good idea to take advantage of the opportunity before I became much older. (I also hoped that the timing of the trip would enable me to avoid being exposed to an unedifying election campaign in Australia, but the election was held later than I had anticipated.) There were two places in India I particularly wanted to visit: Daman, the former Portuguese colony north of Mumbai; and the state of Meghalaya in the north-east. Daman was of interest because an ancestor with a Portuguese name, who migrated to Australian in the 1850s, was born in Daman. I had several reasons for wanting to visit Meghalaya – I had become interested in the cultural history of the north-east of India after visiting Bhutan a decade earlier and was curious about the description of Meghalaya as the Scotland of India. Most importantly, I like waterfalls.

Since this was my first visit to India, I also wanted to include the golden triangle in the program, and was interested to see Kolkata and Mumbai.

Organisation

The trip was organized through Rough Guides Trips, a British firm. The detailed planning was managed in India by Bharathi Uveka (Indian Stories and Travel X). Bharathi was extremely helpful in developing a program that suited my requirements as an old person who wanted to stay in good hotels, be driven around, and have guides explain what I was seeing. Bharathi and her assistant (Shaju K) stayed in touch during the tour to provide information and to ensure everything was happening as planned. There are cheaper ways to visit India, but I am satisfied that I obtained good value for money.

I think the quality of the hotels I stayed in helped me to avoid any stomach upsets. I also took appropriate precautions, including imbibing some whisky every evening.

In what follows I am highlighting some of the sightseeing aspects of my trip. I will leave discussion of more serious topics to later articles.

Highlights of the Golden Triangle

It is difficult to select just one aspect of my trip to Delhi as a highlight. My Delhi guide, Raj (Rajender Rathore) took me to several interesting places, including a Sikh temple and memorials to Gandhi. 

However, being transported through the narrow streets of Old Delhi by bicycle rickshaw was like nothing else I have previously experienced.

I have selected the Taj Mahal as the highlight of my trip to Agra. That will probably not surprise anyone, but the Taj receives so much publicity that I was half-expecting to be disappointed. Having now seen the building, I think it deserves all the praise that it has received. My guide, Neeraj Chnwada, arranged for me to see the Taj from several angles, and to observe it change color in the evening.

One of the highlights of my journey from Agra to Jaipur was a visit to Chand Baori. The step-well in the foreground dates from the 8^th century, with upper stories built in the 18^th century, during the Mughal era.

The driver for the Golden Triangle leg of my journey, Pratap Bhati Singh, arranged for me to visit Chand Baori and some other sites as an addition to the itinerary.

Bhati - that is what he told me to call him – also assisted in other ways including by providing help in navigating the process of obtaining an Indian sim card for my mobile phone, and giving helpful hints on how to use ATMs (e.g. don’t ask for more than INR 10, 000 in one transaction).  

A visit to Jantar Mantar was one of the highlights of my visit to Jaipur. This site, which contains a collection of 19 astronomical instruments for measuring time, predicting eclipses etc. The monument was completed in 1734.

My guide in Jaipur, Abishek Shrivastava, is a hero. As well as providing historical information, he caught my hat when it was blown off my head by a gust of wind, he rescued my phone after it slipped from my fingers and fell about 3 meters to the bottom of an instrument at the astronomical museum, he read my aura, and he found a post office where I could buy stamps for letters to send to my grandchildren. (Unfortunately, the postal services have not cooperated to ensure timely delivery of the letters – it is now more than 3 weeks since they were posted, and they still have not arrived.)

Kolkata

From a sightseeing perspective, the flower market was a highlight of my trip to Kolkata. 

My guide, Vikash, introduced me to drinking Masala Chai the Kolkata way, in disposable clay cups, and provided insights about the history of Kolkata. I will discuss colonial history in a later article, but I want to note for future reference that the comparative economic performance of West Bengal and other Indian states over the last 50 years may provide a useful case study of the effects of socialism.

Meghalaya

Waterfalls were the sightseeing highlight of my visit to Meghalaya. However, rather than showing photos of many waterfalls, I will discuss my visit to the double decker living root bridge and Rainbow Falls at Nongriat. The first photo is of my local guide from the village and a few of the 3800 steps that needed to be traversed.

The second photo is of the double decker root bridge.

The third photo is of me at Rainbow Falls.

The feeling of achievement after visiting Rainbow Falls made it worthwhile, but I was a silly old fool to think that my good health and regular walking habits would make this fairly easy to accomplish. In retrospect, I should have prepared by undertaking some specific fitness training.

It took much longer than expected for me to climb back up the hill. I am most grateful to the local guide, shown earlier, and my guide for Meghalaya, Mr. Dipankar (below) for their support and patience. I am also grateful to my driver, Mr. Simitar, who came looking for us when we were overdue at the car park.

I felt no ill-effects next morning after the exercise the previous day, but after sitting in cars and planes for the next couple of days, I felt stiff and sore by the time I arrived in Daman.

Daman

The highlight of my stay in Daman was to visit churches and other sites that my great, great grandfather might have visited. The first photo shows a local guide (a university student) with my driver, Jeevachh Singh, and myself in front of one of the churches.

Mumbai

The guide for my Mumbai visit, Rupali D’Souza, took me to Mani Bhavan, a museum which was Gandhi’s residence in Bombay from 1917 to 1934. The display of the famous salt march, pictured behind Rupali, is an example of the series which capture major events in the life of Gandhi.

 

It was a privilege to visit this museum. While in Delhi I had visited the place of Gandhi’s assassination and his tomb, so this completed the circle. The opportunity to remember Gandhi’s contribution to the world was certainly one of the highlights of my visit to India.

Postscript

I neglected to mention food. Indian food was definitely one of the highlights of my trip.

How should Lachlan Macquarie be remembered?

 

Lachlan Macquarie was governor of New South Wales from 1810 to 1821. At that time, the colony comprised much of the Australian mainland (known then as New Holland), Tasmania (Van Diemen’s Land) and other island territories.

Many years ago, when I studied Australian history at school, I came to the view that Macquarie, the fifth governor of New South Wales, was one of the best of the colonial governors. I still feel that Macquarie made a positive contribution to cultural values that are widely held in Australia today. It is unusual for despots to be good people, but I think Macquarie was one.

The above photo is of a sculpture of Lachlan Macquarie, located by Macquarie Street in Sydney. The inscription on the plaque describes Macquarie as “a perfect gentleman”, while that on his tomb in Scotland describes him as “The Father of Australia”.

Macquarie is also remembered in the many places named after him. Some that readily come to mind are the suburb of Canberra, where my family lived for several years; Port Macquarie, on the north coast of New South Wales, where we have enjoyed some holidays; and Lake Macquarie, where we now live.

Proposal to re-name Lake Macquarie

I have been prompted to write this article because there is currently a move for Lake Macquarie to revert to its original name, Awaba. The Indigenous inhabits of the region, Awabakal people, knew the lake by that name for many thousands of years prior to European settlement. I see no reason to oppose the name change if it can be accomplished without a great deal of cost and confusion, and in a spirit of reconciliation.

However, some of the proponents of the name change seem to me to be making it difficult for it to be accomplished in a spirit of reconciliation because they are arguing that Lachlan Macquarie does not deserve to be honoured. It looks to me as though they want him to be cancelled!

Those who seek to denigrate Macquarie refer to the fact that he ordered a military operation that led to a massacre of aboriginal people. They don’t have regard to the circumstances in which that order was given, or consider what alternative courses of action Macquarie could have taken.

What would you have done in his shoes?

I can understand why some readers might object to the idea of contemplating what it might be like to occupy the shoes of a colonial despot. Some might argue that those shoes did not have to be filled. The British could have chosen not to establish the colony in the first place. They could have found some other way to solve their problem of over-crowded prisons, and thus avoided encroaching upon the lands of Indigenous people.

However, as I see it, if similar choices to those confronting Macquarie were not faced by an alternative British despot, they would have been faced by a despot from France or some other European country. When Britain established the colony, other European powers were seeking to establish colonies throughout the world. So, if the British had not established the colony, it is highly unlikely that the Indigenous people would have been left alone to pursue their traditional lifestyles.

Lachlan Macquarie was a reluctant appointee to the position of governor.  The biographical history by M H Ellis indicates that after having served with the British army in India for 25 years, Macquarie considered it to be unfair that he was being posted to the colony. (Ellis, 166)

In contemplating what you would have done in Macquarie’s shoes, it might be helpful to consider his motives, the circumstances that led to the military operation, and whether alternative approaches might have led to more tranquil relations between Indigenous people and settlers.

Macquarie’s motives

On arrival in the colony, Macquarie expressed the wish that “the natives of the country, when they came in the way in a peaceable manner, might not be molested in their persons and property by anyone, but that they should always be treated with kindness and attention, so as to conciliate them as much as possible to the British Government and manners.”  (Ellis, 179)

How could Macquarie expect the Indigenous people to remain peaceable when their land was being taken away from them? I see some evidence that Macquarie saw potential for mutual benefit from more productive use of the land, and by helping Indigenous people to develop new skills and habits. From his paternalistic perspective, the Indigenous people were wasting their lives “in wandering thro’ their native woods … in quest of the immediate means of subsistence”. He saw them as having qualities that “if properly cultivated and encouraged might render them not only less wretched and destitute” but “progressively useful to the country according to their capabilities”. He expressed the view that they could “advance toward a state of comfort and security”. (Ellis, 352-3).

Macquarie allocated some land for use by Indigenous people on the grounds that they were “a harmless race, who have been without struggle driven by the progress of British industry from their ancient places of habitation”. (Ellis, 358)

Unfortunately, Macquarie received only lukewarm support for this approach from the British government. If the policy had been pursued vigorously by the British government, the Indigenous people would not have suffered such great deprivation and humiliation in subsequent decades.

Circumstances that led to the massacre

A deterioration in relations between Indigenous people and European settlers seems to have occurred in 1814 mainly because the settlers retaliated when Indigenous people helped themselves to unfenced fields of corn planted by the settlers. Macquarie saw fault on both sides. As he saw it, there had been a violation of property rights by the Indigenous people, but it was not a serious violation. He admonished the settlers to behave with patience and forbearance and not to take the law into their own hands. He warned that future aggressiveness by either whites or blacks would be punished in an exemplary manner. (Ellis, 353-4)

Nevertheless, attacks on settlers continued and some abandoned their farms. The governor felt that a severe response was required to prevent the frequent occurrence of trouble. In April 1816 he ordered a military action to drive the mountain tribes a safe distance from the settlement.  (Ellis, 355-6) Those seeking an account of the massacre can find relevant documents on the Australian Museum website. In a subsequent proclamation, Macquarie gave settlers the right to drive away Indigenous people who appeared armed with weapons within a mile of any town, village, or farm.

The military action had the desired effect of restoring order. Members of local tribes attended a friendly meeting which the governor held in December 1816 to, among other things, consult with them “on the best means of improving their present condition”.

Alternative approaches

The limits of my knowledge of the relevant history make it difficult for me to assess the options that faced Macquarie. Perhaps there was potential for him to restore order by adopting a response that was targeted to a greater extent at individual perpetrators of violence rather than on tribes of people, but I have not seen any authoritative discussion of that possibility.

It seems unlikely that Macquarie would have considered the option of attempting to achieve peace by limiting the area of European settlement. That approach would have been likely to lead to rebellion by the settlers and Macquarie’s replacement as governor.

The governor could have continued to pursue a conciliatory approach but there is no reason to believe that would have been successful in discouraging attacks on settlers, or setter retaliation. The most likely outcome, it seems to me, would have been an increase in violence on both sides, with a more extensive military intervention required eventually to end the conflict.

Concluding comments

My view that Lachlan Macquarie made a positive contribution to cultural values that are widely held in Australia today is based mainly on the humane approach he adopted toward the people of the colony. He has been remembered particularly for his humane treatment of convicts and ex-convicts, who made up about 90 percent of the European population of the colony at the time of his appointment. Macquarie saw that some of the most meritorious people in the colony had come there as convicts and sought to treat them justly by giving them the opportunities to hold responsible positions.

Macquarie sought to extend this humane approach to the indigenous people, but was faced with difficult choices. Those who criticize the choices he made should consider what they would have done in his shoes.

Did Enlightenment thinkers believe that reason could illuminate all phenomena?

 

When I began to think about David Friedrich’s painting “Wanderer Above the Sea of Fog”, there seemed to be something odd about it. The painting reminded me of a TV news report I saw recently showing an Australian politician walking along a beach wearing a business suit. Both the politician and the “wanderer” seemed out of place. Perhaps the politician had a busy schedule which prevented him from changing into beach attire, but how can we explain the symbolism of the painting?

László Földényi, a Hungarian essayist, has suggested that the painting reflects the longing of Romantics to retreat from the fog of prosaic life “and find in nature that universal connection which civilization was supposedly unable to provide”. Földényi implies that, contrary to their intentions, the Romantics’ view of nature was similar to that of Enlightenment thinkers who viewed it as the object of rational and scientific thought:

“If we look at the wanderer in Friedrich’s painting, he appears to be giving himself over to nature, and yet at the same time he is decisively isolated from it. And this indicates to us that the Romantic “deification” of nature, its enlargement into a metaphysical category results in a tendency leading toward the violation of nature just as much as the openly technicist viewpoint does. For there too in the background lurks the intention to call to account, to seek proof and persuasion, the desire for nature to become the likeness of humanity, to be the mirror of our soul. In a word, the desire for nature to be pliable to their conceptions of it—even if, in certain cases, these conceptions differ from those of the natural scientists.”

The quoted passage is from Földényi’s book, Dostoyevsky reads Hegel and Bursts into Tears. The book
consists of 13 essays in which the author seeks to examine “the experience of inscrutability to be found in depths of all cultural phenomena.” He is attacking the “belief in the omnipotence of reason that illuminates all phenomena” which he believes to be “the great inheritance of the Enlightenment”.

Hegel is a prime target.

The title of the book comes from an essay in which Földényi speculates that Dostoyevsky may have read Hegel’s lectures on the philosophy of world history while exiled in Siberia and writing The House of the Dead. Hegel viewed world history as having a rational purpose and argued that the character of some nations is such that they don’t belong within the purview of world history. He ruled out Siberia as a setting for world culture.

Dostoyevsky suffered greatly in Siberia but felt his estrangement from world history to be a form of redemption from the gray rationality of European civilization. Exile enabled him to obtain a better understanding of other Russians and of himself.

Hegel is also the target of criticism in the final essay which discusses Elias Canetti’s book, Crowds and Power.  Földényi discusses the difficulty of attributing a genre to this book, telling readers that it is distinguished by its openness to metaphysical questions - particularly the ancient question, “What is man?” - and a capacity for amazement at the world.

Földényi suggests that “Canetti almost appears to be sending a message” to Hegel. Canetti was disturbed by “the arrogance of concepts” and held examination of individual phenomena to be more important that generalizations. He claimed that the conceptual interested him so little that he had not seriously read either Aristotle or Hegel.

Hegel believed in the fulfillment of history, but Canetti’s book is “a great pessimistic expression of the viewpoint that man is irreparable”, as he continually repeats brutal acts “while employing ever more refined means”. According to Canetti, Europeans live in an ocean of myth, mistakenly thinking that their rationalism is the fulfillment of history.

I am glad that we do not have to choose between the views of Hegel and Canetti. In Freedom, Progress, and Human Flourishing, I argue that although the roots of liberty run deepest in countries that recognize Western civilization as providing their cultural heritage, history gives us no grounds for complacency about the future of liberty in those countries.

The old horizons

The essay I found most illuminating is the one on belief in the devil. Földényi suggests that beliefs about God and the devil “took leave of their traditional metaphysical theater” toward the end of the 18^th century. He illustrates the metaphysical theater with Goethe’s description of the demonic situation that Faust observed within himself of being torn between the sensual and the non-sensual. He suggests that Faust was “perhaps the last emblematic figure of European culture who … represented his own endangered mentality without losing sight of the Great Plan as envisioned by Pico della Mirandola.”

After that, Földényi claims that the “Good” lost its transcendental constraints and became limited to concepts of utility, advantage, and pragmatism, and “Evil” came to be understood as “anything impeding what general belief proclaimed as advantageous and useful.”

So, what was Pico della Mirandola’s Great Plan?  In the 15^th century Giovanni Pico della Mirandola suggested that the goal of man - the reason God created humans - was to love the beauty of the world or to admire its greatness. However, man can do this in his own way. He can shape himself in whatever form he prefers. He can degenerate into a lower, more brutish, form of life, or “be reborn into the higher orders, those that are divine”.

It seems to me that the essence of the Great Plan can still be followed by those of us who are uncomfortable with the theology of Pico della Mirandola if we take care not to lightly dismiss intuitions that to be fully flourishing we need to transcend a focus on utilitarian considerations. My personal view is that such intuitions deserve to be taken seriously because they stem from fundamental aspects of human nature. Freedom, Progress, and Human Flourishing offers the suggestion that we may take pleasure in seeking to transcend utilitarian preoccupations “whilst rejecting the idea that it is appropriate to employ the metrics of pleasure and pain to assess the worth of our endeavors.”  

Final comments

I have selected only a few of Földényi’s essays to discuss here. Some readers might be interested to follow up his challenging views on melancholy and anxiety, or the sad story of Heinrich von Kleist who features as prominently as Hegel.

In my view, the author is successful in illustrating the poverty of rationalistic approaches in explaining cultural phenomena. However, in asserting that the Enlightenment is responsible for widespread belief in the omnipotence of reason, he is taking a Eurocentric view. Scottish Enlightenment thinkers certainly did not believe that reason could illuminate all phenomena. Modern followers of Frances Hutcheson, David Hume, Adam Smith, and Adam Ferguson are unlikely to feel that their views are under attack in this book.