Ropuiliani in Mizo Historiography: a Postmortem - H. Vanlalhruaia

The Lushai Hills (now Mizoram) were incorporated into the colonial empire by the last part of the 19th century. Indeed, resistance against colonialism in Lushai Hills was not less intense than in any other part of India. The immediate result of colonial expansion was an increase in widow chiefs. Military officer J. Shakespear noted the condition of the South Lushai Hills in 1892: “It will be noticed that all these villages except Mualthuam and Aithur are now ruled by Widows”.1 The remaining Mizo Chiefs, including widow chiefs, were now in a dilemma and forced to negotiate with and make certain adjustments towards the colonial government. It was under this critical situation that many women Chiefs, including Ropuiliani, emerged in the colonial archives. In the post-colonial and contemporary rethinking of the history of resistance against colonialism in Lushai Hills, Ropuiliani has become an ethnic idol of patriotism, whereas other women (Pi Buki, Lalhlupuii, Rothangpuii, Vanhnuaithangi, Laltheri, Darbilhi, Neihpuithangi, Pawibawia Nu, Dari, Thangpuii, Pakuma Rani, Zawlchuaii and many others) who also struggled against colonialism remain comparatively unknown.2

This paper wishes to raise questions concerning the post-colonial ethnic recollection of the past that has repeatedly focused on an individual character--a female chief named Ropuiliani. Why are Mizo historians so interested in Ropuiliani, but not Dabilhi or other female Chiefs? Is it because there was not much to celebrate in history other than Ropuiliani? What motivates our interest? Is our interest in the history of Ropuiliani truly just a historical one or is our interest in her history a symbol of ‘ethnic loyalty’? How can one account for the reappearances of Ropuiliani in Mizo historiography? Why have the roles of many ‘other women chiefs’ remained relatively unexplored, though their potential contribution in resisting colonialism appears so obviously in both colonial texts and oral traditions? History should tell us; but often it does not. These questions have hardly been asked, let alone answered, in Mizo historiography. 

My curiosity about the rethinking of Ropuiliani is particularly drawn from Gayatri Spivak's most influential essay on the Rani of Sirmur, the wife of the ruler of a hill-state in Himachal Pradesh.3 In this essay, Spivak demonstrates that the Rani of Simur emerges in the colonial archives ‘only when she is needed in the space of imperial production’.4 The British East India Company attempted to control the northern frontier of Shimla hills though various settlements and courtly political affairs. “It is within this political and diplomatic framework, where the Company attempted to pacify and subordinate the hill-states through their “Settlement”, that the Rani appears briefly in the Company’s archives as ‘a king’s wife and a weaker vessel”.5 Similarly, I argue that Ropuiliani emerged over and over again for a ‘purpose’ and that she survives in Mizo historiography for the production of those who need ‘her’ for their own respective agendas.

In this paper, my interest lies neither in narrating the oft-told history of Ropuiliani, nor in re-producing her stories. Rather, I would like to problematize the historiography of Ropuiliani in relation to the way in which Mizo scholars imagine and categorize Ropuiliani in history. The main objective of my paper is thus to engage or to inject a more skeptical view towards the historical narratives of Ropuiliani within the larger framework of women history of Mizoram.

I shall begin my discussion with the work of N. Chatterjee, “Position and Status of Mizo Women in the earlier Mizo Society”. Before the publication of this monograph in 1975, there was hardly any research available on Mizo women's history.6 The historical relationships between Mizo women and colonialism have been largely overlooked by scholars. More general studies on Mizo women were carried out by some historians and their investigation into women's roles were largely confined.7 The reconstruction of the history of women, most remarkably in politics, was largely overlooked. Consequently, women and their role in the freedom struggle against colonialism were neglected until the pre-insurgency period (1947-1966), when the reconstruction of ethno-national identity was taking place.

During the course of such ethnic identity reconstruction, the call for an ‘ethno-hero’ from the past went hand in hand with the revival of ethnic consciousness. Eventually, the Mizo National Front (MNF) drew their inspiration from the Mizo warriors (Pasaltha) who had fought against British colonialism in the Lushai Hills.8 In due course, the Pasaltha, such as Zampuimanga, Chawngbawla, Taitesena, Vanapa, Saizahawla, Khuangchera etc., were incorporated by MNF standing troops as symbols of ‘ethnic patriotism’. Surprisingly, not a single woman’s name was included. This is evident also in the historiography of popular struggles in other parts of India, where women were “subsumed...women under the category of man thereby ensuring their invisibility, and created [creating] [sic] the myth of women’s passivity, on the other. It gave rise to the belief that men alone were capable of militant action, of leadership, of changing the course of event- in short of making history”. 9

In fact, the Mizo Insurgency broke out after the first women’s movement (i.e. Mizo Hmeichhe Tangrual) was initiated in the post-colonial period. Ethnic nationalism can at times be emancipating; at other times it is a reactionary force of the subjugation of women. Since its inception, the insurgency organisation (Mizo National Front) was entirely dominated by men. Despite this, many women embraced ethnic nationalism and participated in the insurgency movement, though the actual practice of ethno-nationalism was reserved for men. Some women internalize patriarchal thinking within the politics of over-determined ethnic nationalism.10 Recent histories of insurgency movements have largely dismissed their contributions. Insurgency in Mizo hill thus, appears as a patriarchal war against the larger National State for the restoration of ethnic, patriarchal order in the society. Women are subsumed under the category of ‘Mizo Nationalism’; this had ambiguous effects, not only on the status of women (by confining them as mothers to the home), but also in the broader sense of ignoring women's issues themselves. It also reaffirmed the boundaries of culturally acceptable feminine conduct and exerted pressure on women to articulate their gender interests within the terms of reference set by ethnic nationalist discourse.

Women and politics soon became separate spaces. Mizo historian Sangkima notes in this context that “there was a great change in the nature of women’s participation in politics after 1966”.11 The MNF movement (1966-1986) in the Mizo hills was not only a masculine construction that ignored women's agency in history, but also one that brought about the downfall of women’s participation in present politics. But the present condition of women and politics is not only the result of the insurgency movement (1966-1986), but also of the history of colonial patriarchy that separated women from the political space.12 However, this is beyond the present objective of my paper.

In 1988, the recollection of women’ role in history was initiated by ethnic leaders in their conference at Champhai, an Indo-Burma border town in Mizoram. The meeting created the ethnic “Ropuiliani Award”. Rani Gandiliu, a Nagaland lady freedom fighter was the recipient.13 A Mizo woman hence emerged because she was needed in the space of ethnic identity production.

In the following years, historians explicitly focused their attention on either insurgency or colonial history in which the role of women as historical agents was almost left out. Surprisingly, in 1990, the need to reconstruct women’s role in resistance against colonialism was noticed by the Centre for Adult and Continuing Education and Department of Public Administration at the North Eastern Hill University (NEHU). Then the first seminar on the “Role of Ropuiliani in the Freedom Struggle” was organized on June 27, 1990. The seminar paper was published later in 2005 which included nine empirical essays by a number of scholars.14 For the first time, the history of women’s resistance against colonialism was brought to the notice of a small academic community.

The book stressed the political nature of colonialism as “oppressive” and “repressive”; the impacts of colonialism, which affected men and women in different ways, were overlooked.15 Females who were often subjected to what has been called a double colonization, where they were discriminated against not only for their position as colonized but also as women, was not recognized.16 Ropuiliani, a woman who measured up to the ‘male standard’ in the struggle against imperialism provokes post-colonial scholars curiosity as to why women played such a role.

Then the family background of Ropuiliani as a part of a ruling chief family which enjoyed better status than a commoner was highlighted. She inherited her qualities and her anti-colonial feelings from her father as well as her husband. This construction is strongly influenced by the colonial prejudice that wrongly defined Mizo women as passive and subsidiary inferiors. Her consciousness as a woman was entirely ignored. In the end, one may observe that collections of these articles reflect Ropuiliani as someone speaking through a colonial patriarchy which has been echoed and celebrated by the post-colonial ethnic patriarchy in the name of ‘Mizo patriotism’. While there is of course much disagreement concerning the nature and the impact of colonialism, at least a careful re-reading of colonial sources with other available sources may help us understand the gender complexities in colonial Lushai Hills.

One of the contributors of the seminar, Laltluangliana Khiangte, continued to unearth colonial archives and oral sources in the succeeding years. His efforts materialized in the historical play “Lalnu Ropuiliani”, which earned fame in the Mizo literary circle from 1994 onwards.17 The book was eventually incorporated into a college text book of North Eastern Hill University (NEHU). The character of Ropuiliani as a Chief was built from various angles, from noble to an “autocratic nature”, as her efforts to protect freedom from colonial exploitation were highlighted.

In 1994, PR Kyndiah (then Governor of Mizoram) brought out another interesting book called “Mizo Freedom Fighters”, in which the reconstruction of the legend of Ropuiliani against British colonialism is framed within the nationalist project of the recollection of the war of liberation.18 PR Kyndiah’s work was followed by the publication of “Mizo Chief and Chiefdom” by Suhash Chaterjee.19 Basing it on the on colonial archives, he successfully uncovered the biographies of the Mizo female chiefs from the 19th century to first half of the 20th century.20 Out of 104 chiefs, many chiefs were female and who were either widows of Chiefs or independent in Mizoram. Chaterjee goes beyond other writers by saying that it was not only the male chiefs but also the women chiefs who played key roles in the political process of governing Lushai Hills.

A detailed, empirical work on the history of women’s resistance ‘Tlawm Ve Lo Lalnu Ropuiliani’ was published in 1999 by local writer and poet Lalsangzuali Sailo.21 Focusing on an individual character, the past is perceived instrumentally, investigated and selected, to prove a former glory and to highlight great achievements. This is done to confirm a political project for the future of the Mizo society, without giving credit to the agency of Mizo women. Such projections were made, historian Forbes notes, “because her [Ropuiliani] accomplishments were significant by male standards”. 22

Later, in 2002, Sangkima, a Mizo historian, revived a fresh study on women and politics in Mizo history starting from pre-colonial times to the recent era.23 The first part of his essay brought out a case study of female widow chiefs in the pre-colonial period. He implicitly credited ‘tribal patriarchy’ when noting that women “become rulers or Chieftainess not as a matter of right but as a matter of chance”.24 He skipped the colonial period on the grounds that there were no women who actively participated in politics in colonial Lushai Hills. He then finally gave credit to post-colonial women as “they joined active politics only because of their desire to uplift the status of Mizo women in the society”.25 Despite this, he fails to mention that it was the colonial rulers who were repressive to women, so that the number of female chiefs decreased in colonial Lushai Hills, especially when the patriarchal Mizo customary law was drafted in 1927 for the production of colonial administration.26 The immediate impact of colonialism in Lushai Hills marked a radical transformation of women and politics in Mizoram. British colonial administrators soon assumed that women were incapable of political leadership and provided political roles for men only. These colonial chiefs were given complete authority and the traditional decision making power for both sexes was ignored.

Thus, these works reached different conclusions at times but all of them had much in common. They leave us with only a partial picture of women's experiences in resisting colonialism in the Lushai Hills. Hence numerous tales of women's struggles, negotiation, resistance, pain, and sacrifices, and, most importantly, contributions, are hidden in the background. The shortcomings in these writings could be in part due to an absence of an alternative approach to define the experiences unique to women in history.

Conclusion:

Thus we find that Ropuiliani emerges over and over again in Mizo historiography. She first emerged in the colonial archive for the production of colonial knowledge and for the exercising of colonial power in the Lushai Hills. Secondly, she re-emerged in the post-colonial period, especially when various discourses on the reformulation of ethnic identity were taking place. Her role has been used to justify a post-colonial ‘ethnic nationalism’. Thirdly, she continues to emerge in recent historiography that vigorously clamours around the ‘Mizo nation’ with much popular backing and enthusiasm. The historiographies of Ropuiliani continue to show us the ‘revolutionary movement’ or the ‘war of liberation’ as the only means of being ‘patriotic’ or ‘nationalist’. In other words, Ropuiliani's history is the glorification of the revolutionary movement or of ‘heroic history’ rather than other forms of resistance.27 Needless to say, it overshadows other forms of resistance when the majority of scholars make universalized assertions that leave out much of the ‘other women’ in Mizo historiography. The real problem lies with the ‘grand narrative’ historical approach and the tendency to generalize for all on the basis of the actions of a few. Such impressions need to be reframed and enlarged so that the past is not merely judged through grand narrative history. The greatest challenge to the historians and scholars of Mizoram is thus to incorporate the various experiences of women from all classes in the broader framework of Mizo history. The present brief essay, though partial and incomplete, is a request to these scholars to note the critical challenge of framing a new analysis that will address the various historical complexities shared by different groups of women in Mizo history.

References:
1. J. Shakepeare, Report Concerning Ropuilieni Widow of Vandula and Her Son Lalthuama at Present Prisoners in Lunglei, 1984. Exhibit list, Serial No.28, Government Archive, Aizawl, Mizoram.
2. For further details, please see H.Vanlalhruaia & Hmingthanzuali; Women and Resistance in Colonial Lushai Hills”, in K.N Sethi (ed); Resistance Against Colonialism: The Life and Times of Veer Surendra Sai, Shivalick Prakashan, Delhi, 2009.
3. Gaytri Spivak, The Rani of Sirmur: An Essays in Reading the Archives, History and Theory, Vol. 24, No.3, 1985. pp.247-72.
4. Ibid.
5. Tony Ballantyne; Archive, Discipline, State: Power and Knowledge in South Asian Historiography, New Zealand Journal of Asian Studies, Vol. 3, No.1 (June 2001). pp.87-105.)
6. N. Chatterjee; Position and Status of Mizo Women in the earlier Mizo Society, Tribal Research Institute, Government of Mizoram, 1975.
7. For example, please see L. Malsawmi, Mizoram Kohhran Hmeichhe Chanchin, Synod Publication Board, Aizawl, Mizoram, 1973, Set On A Hill Light on The Lushai Hills After Forty Years Report of Women’s Work, Baptist Church of Mizoram, 1993 and others.
8. For further reading, please see Nirmal Nibedon; The Dagger Brigade, p.
9. Indra Munshi Saldanha; Tribal Women in the Warli Revolt: 1945-47 ‘Class’ and ‘Gender’ in the Left Perspective, Economic and Political Weekly, Vol XXI, No.17, 1986.p.
10. For further reading please see Denise Adele Segor;Tracing the persistent impulse of a bedrock nation to survive within the state of India: Mizo women's response to war and forced migration, Fielding Graduate University, 2006.
11. Sangkima; Women and Politics in Mizoram through the Ages, Historical Journal of Mizoram, Vol. III. Issue I, Mizo Historical Association, 2002. p.35.
12. H.Vanlalhruaia & Hmingthanzuali; Women and Resistance in Colonial Lushai Hills”, in K.N Sethi (ed); Resistance Against Colonialism: The Life and Times of Veer Surendra Sai, Shivalick Prakashan, Delhi, 2009.
13. The ethnic leaders collaborated under the organization of Zo Re-Unification Organization (ZORO) The organization was formed with the aim of promoting the integration and unification of all Mizo groups around the globe who were actually divided by colonialism in three countries of India, Bangladesh and Burma.PR Kyndiah; Mizo Freedom Fighters, Sanchar Publishing House, New Delhi, 1994. p.10
14. Lalneihzovi; Role of Ropuiliani In the Freedom Struggle, Aizawl, Mizoram, 2005.
15. Ibid.p.xiii
16. Feminism and post-colonialism, http://www.qub.ac.uk/schools/SchoolofEnglish/imperial/key-concepts/feminism-and-postcolonialism.htm, accessed on 5 December 2008.
17. Laltluangliana Khiangte; Lalnu Ropuiliani, Aizawl, LTL Publications 1994.
18. PR Kyndiah ; Mizo Freedom Fighters, Sanchar Publishing House, New Delhi, 1994.
19. Suhash Chaterjee; Mizo Chiefs and the Chiefdom, 1995.
20. Ibid.p. 81-171
21. Lalsangzuali Sailo; Tlawm Ve Lo Lalnu Ropuiliani, Aizawl, 1999.
22. Geraldine Forbes; Women in Modern India, Cambridge University Press,2004 (3rd reprinted) p.I
23. Sangkima; Women and Politics in Mizoram Through the Ages, Historical Journal of Mizoram, Vol-III, Issue-I, 2002.p.23
24. Ibid.35
25. Ibid. 35.
26. N.E. Parry, A Monograph on Lushai Customs and Ceremonies, T.R.I, Aizawl, Mizoram, 1988
27. Such historical writing not only distorts our history, but also conveys a message to the student of history that one could be patriotic only when he or she uses violence against the oppressor. Other form of resistances (case of Darbilhi, Lalhlupuii and Pi Buki) in a peaceful means could potentially contribute to the richness of Mizo history.


H. Vanlalhruaia recently received his Ph.D. from the University Of Hyderabad, and loves writing, history and the culture of North East India. He wrote and presented this paper at a history seminar on ‘Ropuiliani and Zakapa’ organised by Govt. Hnahthial College, Hnahthial, Mizoram, on the 8th & 9th December, 2011.

Note: Plagiarism or appropriation of any content herein for any purpose is not encouraged. In the event of interest for usage or partial reproduction of contents, kindly contact me at the email address given on the home page for necessary action.

Winter Fragment - Zualteii Poonte

A light winter rain.
I can't remember the last time it rained.
October, or was it November..
hard to recall in the aftermath of Christmas.

Today I walked past your hospital
and looked up at the room
you were in this time last January.
It didn't seem to remember you.

Later the soup chow in the little eating place
up the corner steamed so long,
in a burst of idle impatient hunger
I splashed in a splotch of chilli sauce.
It only burned my mouth twice as badly.

I don't think I will eat the broth there again.
Most certainly not in steaming hot mid-April
when this gray sunless day will have ebbed out with the cold.

Picture: James Lalsiamliana

The Pendulum Swings - Dawngi Chawngthu

You stand in the doorway

Uncertain…hesitating
Enveloped in a blanket of darkness
Come to say goodbye – have you?
Or is it another re-union you seek

Sensing my withdrawal
You retreat…
The right thing for you to do
For you see I’m not so sure anymore
If I want to be with you

What is it you want from me anyway ?
A security blanket…
To keep you warm when it gets cold
And then to pack away
In warmer climate

Tell me what now
You say you love me
You say you need me
But what of him
Who precedes me

He’s an invisible wall between us
A wall too strong to cross
Erected even before we met
I guess you can’t jump over it
I guess you don’t want to jump over it…

Must be hard for you
To compartmentalize your life
A life with him where you feel trapped
And a life with me
Where you claim you are happy!

And what of me…
I swing with the pendulum
Sometimes happy, sometimes not.
When will the pendulum stop
At me happy…with you…forevermore.

Picture: Apa-Lelhchhun

Time Passes - Zualteii Poonte

Long gone, long done,

long ago yesterdays
live on in the recesses of the mind,
held by tenuous threads of spider silk
spun finely through the hazy distance
of mutating time.

But was it all quite as perfect
as you remember or does
the index of the mind
fudge the reality?

Then again,
does the truth really matter
so long as the illusions
leave you happy.

*Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened ~ T.S. Eliot*

~~~

Winter shreds

the leaves from the trees;

denuded, desolate, defenceless,

they stand in silence.

But Spring comes

and out of the bleak nothingness,

a new life breathes.

The old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.

Photograph: Andrew Lalbiaknunga Ralte

Zualteii Poonte teaches English lit. at college and is the owner of this blog.

Mizo Women in Myth and Reality - Vanlalveni Pachuau

There is a Mizo saying which, roughly translated, states, "The same story differs with the one doing the telling." This is in reference to the fact that Mizo folklore is of the oral tradition and therefore, a story may have several versions. However, the basic elements remain the same. While it may be easy to dismiss folktales as fanciful tales spun by old warriors and housewives, there is, in fact, a deep correlation between folktales and social reality. Lily Kong and Elaine Goh have explored this relation between folktales and reality and have surmised that these tales are not just ‘fictive constructs’ but represent ‘fictive, historical and projected realities’:

'Fictive reality' is a construct of the narrative imagination and is bound by the rules that govern each genre. In the folktale, this fictive reality is presented as apart from the narrator's world. However, far from being purely imaginative, fictive reality can be a part of transformed 'historical reality'. Past customs, beliefs and social organisation 'survive' as fictive reality in the folktale, although to the narrators, they may have ceased to be either historical or current social reality. Hence, they may have undergone a transformation from history into fiction, from reality into fantasy. Apart from historical realities, a third kind of reality-'projected reality'-results when the present is incorporated into folktales. This projected reality can be seen in the variations that occur in the same tale told by different narrators who project their own culture, social class and personal psychology into the fictive realities of the folktale. [Kong and Goh, p. 261-2]

This paper aims to show how the treatment of Mizo women in folklore reflects social reality through the stories of three women, namely Mauruangi, Tualvungi and Zangkaki. Mizo folktales have an abundance of women characters, but since these stories are generally viewed through the male perspective, these characters tend to fall into a standard precept- either the woman is a hopeless victim or a cruel victimiser. The feminist dictionary defines fairytales as, “a harmful cross-cultural educative story told to unsuspecting children that shows women as passive, opportunistic or cruel” [Cheris, 149], and while this may be applicable, to an extent, to the projection of women in Mizo folktales, the purpose of this paper, however, is not to dwell upon sexism or the repression of women, but rather on the representation of women in Mizo folklore. Through this, this study attempts to explore the social realities of Mizo culture pertaining to the status of women and their societal roles.

Mauruangi - the Mizo Cinderella:

Mauruangi’s story is similar to Cinderella’s in that she too was a helpless victim under a wicked stepmother, a jealous stepsister and a neglectful father. She also had help, though in the form of her dead mother’s spirit rather than a fairy godmother, and she also escaped her hard life through marriage to a ‘prince’. Mauruangi’s story is a magical one, with her mother’s spirit alternately taking the forms of a catfish and a tree, and giving Mauruangi food when she was overworked and starved by her step-mother. Mauruangi grew into a lovely maiden whose hospitality and kindness impressed the servants of a vai lalpa1, who took her home to their master who married her. Her step-mother invited her back home, and there, she murdered Mauruangi by pouring boiling water over her. Her dead body, however, was found by a serow who, by blowing over her, brought her back to life and took her home to be his babysitter. Meanwhile, Mauruangi’s step-sister Bingtaii had persuaded vai lalpa and his servants that she was Mauruangi, and despite their doubts, they had grudgingly accepted her. However, vai lalpa’s servants found Mauruangi rocking the serow’s baby, and they brought her home. Vai lalpa made the two women fight a duel, and Mauruangi, who had been given better weapons, killed Bingtaii and she was finally reinstated to her rightful place. 

Mauruangi has often been cited as the epitome of the ideal Mizo woman. Humble, subservient, hospitable, kind, and skilled in spinning, farming and weaving, she is in direct juxtaposition to her step-sister Bingtaii, who is lazy, vindictive, manipulative and unskilled. While Mauruangi’s fantastical story may seem other-wordly, it is representative of the qualities valued in Mizo women. Mizo women were a hardworking lot - they had to get up early to fetch water and kindling, then perform their domestic chores before they set off to work all day in the fields. Then when they got back home, after preparing and eating supper, they had to spin or weave by the light of the fireplace. All the while, they had to entertain their inleng2 who usually stayed till midnight. As such, the qualities exemplified by Mauruangi were seen as the ideal of Mizo womanhood, and her story served as a lesson to young women on the merits of conforming to that ideal. Fairy tales often consolidate the belief that it is in a woman’s best interest to get married and beget children. As such, Bingtaii’s unwed state exemplified the perils of not submitting to these ideals.

Interestingly, while most western fairytales have only a neglectful and ineffectual father as the counterpart of the wicked stepmother, Mauruangi’s father serves as a perfect foil to his murdering second wife. He had pushed Mauruangi’s mother into a river where she had drowned, perhaps because he had grown tired of her. He had also been complicit in the maltreatment of Mauruangi by agreeing to kill the catfish and to cut down the tree which had housed his previous wife’s soul. While we may now be shocked by the callousness of Mauruangi’s father and her step-mother, their behaviour is indicative of the status of wives and of orphans in Mizo society. The matter-of-fact way that the murder of Mauruangi’s mother is narrated reveals that the loss of a wife was not that devastating. A constantly warring race, sons were prized in the Mizo community. Women were necessary to beget sons who would ultimately help to protect their lands. But if a wife died, men could and often, remarried, so that sons would be born to help propagate their race. Mizos also tended to regard orphans and widows as third-class citizens. Mauruangi, though technically not an orphan, was clearly unwanted and the fact that no one intervened in the harsh treatment meted out to her is indicative of the lowliness of her station. Mauruangi’s story, therefore, though it might seem entirely fictional, is actually reflective of past Mizo society and its social customs and beliefs, especially pertaining to women’s social roles. 

Tualvungi - the trophy:

Tualvungi and her husband Zawlpala are famed lovers in Mizo folklore. A happily married couple, their happiness was marred/ended when Phuntiha, a rajah from Tripura heard stories of Tualvungi’s beauty and came to see whether the stories were true or not. When he saw Tualvungi, Phuntiha, thinking that Zawlpala was her brother, immediately asked Zawlpala for Tualvungi’s hand in marriage. Zawlpala, who was inordinately proud of his wife’s beauty, proceeded to play along so as to see to what lengths Phuntiha was willing to go to secure Tualvungi. Zawlpala demanded an exorbitant amount of goods as Tualvungi’s customary bride price, confident that Phuntiha would never be able to meet it. However, Phuntiha was an exceedingly rich man and he arrived a few days later with the requisite amount of goods. Tualvungi begged and pled with Zawlpala to not let her be married to Phuntiha, but Zawlpala had given his word and he had to honour it. And so the young lovers parted sadly. Phuntiha had by now realised that Zawlpala was indeed Tualvungi’s husband and he grew extremely jealous of him, especially since Tualvungi continued to pine for him despite his showering her with affection. Phuntiha, therefore, decided to have Zawlpala killed and with this purpose in mind, he invited him to visit. When Zawlpala arrived, Phuntiha had him poisoned and the grieved Tualvungi told him to go back to his village at once. There, Zawlpala managed to tell the elders what had transpired before he died. A messenger in the form of a wood pigeon was sent to Tualvungi to break the sad news to her, and on hearing of Zawlpala’s death, Tualvungi sought out ways in which she could evade Phuntiha so that she could visit Zawlpala’s grave. She managed to make her way to his grave, and on reaching there, persuaded an old woman to kill her so that she too might forever rest beside her dead lover. Phuntiha had followed Tualvungi and unable to relinquish her to Zawlpala even in death, he also persuaded the old woman to kill him so that he might follow them. The spirits of Zawlpala and Tualvungi turned into butterflies so as to escape Phuntiha, but his soul too took the form of a butterfly, and he followed them relentlessly, though never quite catching up.

A romantic tale of star-crossed lovers, the story of Tualvungi and Zawlpala is another tale that reflects the status of Mizo women in society. Though Zawlpala was deeply in love with her, his honour meant more to him than she did. Tualvungi had absolutely no say in the matter of her marriage. Her fate hung entirely on the whims of the man responsible for her - whether it was a father, a brother or a husband. Admittedly, she took matters into her own hands by defying Phuntiha, but her defiance was not borne out of rebellion but out of the desire to be with the man who had sold her for a boast. Tualvungi was in actuality a trophy to be wrested and fought over, herself having little or no say over her own life.

A woman in Mizo society in fact, had little say over who she wanted as a husband. She might be given to anyone of her parents’ choosing, and she was to accept without demur. When her inlengs came calling, she was not in any way, by word or deed, to indicate any preference for a particular man. To do so would label her as forward, shameless and self-governing, qualities which were highly undesirable in a wife. She also was not to appear to be rude to any inleng, no matter how undesirable; if a man said that a maiden had not treated him hospitably, the young men of the community tore down the maiden’s hut. In indulgent families, though, daughters were asked their opinions about the choice of husband that her parents had made for them. However, even in the most indulgent of households, a daughter could never directly give assent or dissent. She could either say, “As you wish”, if she found her parents’ choice acceptable or, “You can have him yourself if you want him” if she was displeased with their choice. However, the ultimate decision lay with the father and to go against his wishes was unthinkable. That Phuntiha approached Zawlpala instead of Tualvungi on the matter of marriage, and that Tualvungi acceded, albeit reluctantly to Zawlpala’s decision, indicates the lack of say that women had in the matter of their own marriages.

As mentioned before, women needed to possess certain qualities if she was to be deemed fit for marriage. Apart from that, in cases where the prospective husband came from an important family, the prospective bride had to undergo strict scrutiny before she was declared eligible. Prospective brides of important men were stripped and their bodies were examined minutely to check for birthmarks or moles. Their genealogy was also examined to weed out any undesirable traits like kleptomania, epilepsy and madness, since those were considered to be heritable. Sometimes, the excrement was also checked since it could be an indication of her health, which determined whether she might be fit to bear many sons. In cases where two or more men asked for the same woman in marriage, she would usually be given to the one who would pay the highest bride price - the highest bidder, as it were. Daughters were married to strengthen familial ties, to elevate one’s social position, or to form alliances. Her choice was rarely taken into consideration. 

Zangkaki - the sorceress:

Zangkaki is actually not a central character, but a villainess who entered the story of Lalruanga towards the end of his life; in fact, Zangkaki was a powerful sorceress who outwitted and killed Lalruanga, the most powerful sorcerer in Mizo folklore. Zangkaki is a powerful female character who, through feminine wiles and trickery, managed to outwit Lalruanga the master trickster himself. Lalruanga was a Quixotic character, noted more for his powerful magic and cunning rather than any heroic quality. He first proved his magical prowess against his father, who was also a noted sorcerer. He then captured and wrested magical secrets from Vanhrika, a heavenly being, before killing him. He then outwitted Keichala, a ferocious were-tiger, and his whole tribe of were-tigers. When Keichala’s brothers killed Lalruanga’s brother, the two declared war on each other, with the promise that the victor would honour the defeated with Hrangsaipuia’s famed bullhorn3. Lalruanga used his cunning to defeat Keichala and went to take Hrangsaipuia’s bullhorn. Hrangsaipuia was also a famed sorcerer and the two dueled using all the magic they had at their disposal. Lalruanga inevitably defeated Hrangsaipuia resoundingly and so, he seized the famed bullhorn.

While it was that Lalruanga seemed invincible, he met his defeat at the hands of a sorceress who was less powerful but more cunning than he. Zangkaki was a beautiful sorceress and she lured Lalruanga with the secret purpose of defeating him. Lalruanga took his most powerful dawibur4 with him and Zangkaki knew she would not be able to defeat him just then. So she lulled him into a false sense of security by pretending to fall in love with him. A few days after Lalruanga went home, Zangkaki sent word, asking him to visit her again and telling him that she was expecting his child. This time Lalruanga, suspecting nothing, took his less powerful dawibur with him and he had a pleasant time with Zangkaki, who had been secretly observing him. Sensing that he was no longer as powerful as he had been before, Zangkaki imprisoned Lalruanga inside a stone fortress that Lalruanga, with his limited powers could not break through. He sent an ant to fetch his strongest dawibur but the ant dropped the dawibur into a river where it was swept away by the current. Lalruanga, unable to defeat Zangkaki, finally met his end in the stone fortress in which she had imprisoned him.

Zangkaki in this story is pojected as a licentious seductress who used her feminine charms to defeat the hitherto undefeatable Lalruanga. Her very name is indicative of her amoral nature- Zangkaki’s name is actually Chhuzangkaki; however the first syllable has been dropped in subsequent retellings of the story since the word is a derogatory term referring to the female genitalia. Zangkaki epitomises the destructive feminine stereotype, whose sexuality is cunningly utilised to bring about the downfall of the male species. Folklores and legends are replete with this image of the powerful temptress who, like Delilah, could deceive even the strongest of men like Samson. The fact that Zangkaki’s name contains a derogatory word for the female genitalia is indicative of past Mizo society’s mistrust of women whose sexuality is obvious.

Virility was much prized in Mizo men, while chastity in a woman was highly desirable. A telling Mizo joke recounts how, when asked about their youth, all Mizo men claim to have had lovers, while all Mizo women claim to be virgins. The question arises - which one of them is lying? Mizos believed that Pu Pawla stands at the gates of Pialral5 where he asks each man whether he has been tried or not, and if the man is untried, Pu Pawla would inflict a telling injury on the man which would publicly proclaim his lack of virility. Women, on the other hand, were expected to be chaste and modest, and any woman who did not conform to this expectation was regarded as unnatural, immoral and dangerous. A Mizo woman’s reputation, once damaged, can never be repaired, and a fallen woman, even if she finds a man foolish enough to marry her, carries her shame over to the next generation, where her children and her children’s children will forever be tainted by association with the unfortunate woman. It is therefore, telling that the only person able to defeat Lalruanga is a woman who does not hesitate to use her sexuality to attack a man where he is weakest- his sexuality. The derogatory name given to Zangkaki indicates Mizo society’s vilification of such women. 

Early Mizo religion was a mixture of Pantheistic and spiritual elements, replete with superstitious beliefs. Closely attuned with the natural world, the Mizos believed that nature was infused with spirits, good and bad, both of them needing to be appeased. They also believed that spirits of dead persons often took the form of animals or resided in rivers, mountains or forests. Hence, though these tales may seem fanciful with their talking animals, magic and fantastical acts, they also depict the religious and superstitious beliefs of the past Mizos. Mizos also had a strict moral code which dictated valour and bravery for men, and submissiveness, chastity and domestic prowess for women. This paper seeks to demonstrate that folklore, though they have often been relegated to fantasy or children’s tales, actually contain within them a rich source of information pertaining to a society’s culture and their beliefs. The stories mentioned here are not mere imaginative stories but are actually indicative of what Kong and Goh call fictive, historical and projected realities. The stories told here of three Mizo female characters give a very accurate picture of the social status of Mizo women in Mizo society, and lend support to the feminist belief that gender roles are socially and not biologically constructed. 

References:
Christopher Rollason, Modern Criticism. Rajeshwar Mittapali (ed). New Delhi: Atlantic Publishers and Distributors, 2002.
Fungki: B.A Mizo Zirlai. CTBEB P ublication. Aizawl: Gilzom Offset, 2007.
Indian Folklife: A Quarterly Newsletter from National Folklore Support Centre. Serial No. 34, Nov 2009. Jan 21, 2011. http://indianfolklore.org/nfscpress
Kramarae Cheris and Paula A. Treichler, A Feminist Dictionary. London: Pandora Press, 1985
Lily Kong and Elaine Goh, “Folktales and Reality: The Social Construction of Race in Chinese Tales”. Blackwell Publishing on behalf of The Royal Geographical Society (with the Institute ofBritish Geographers). Area, Vol. 27, No. 3 (Sep., 1995), pp. 261-267. Feb 17, 2011. http://www.jstor.org/stable/20003582 .
Nuchhingi and Zirtiri, Serkawn Graded Reader: Mizo Thawnthu. Aizawl: Mualchin Publications and Paper Works, 2004.
Rosan A. Jordan and F. A. de Caro, “Women and the Study of Folklore”. The University of Chicago Press. Signs, Vol. 11, No. 3 (Spring, 1986), pp. 500-518. Feb 17, 2011.http://www.jstor.org/stable/3174007 .

Vanlalveni Pachuau completed her Masters in English Literature from Mizoram University and also recently earned an M.Phil. degree from the same. She wrote and presented this paper at a seminar on folklore organised by the International Society for Folk Narrative Research at NEHU in Shillong in February 2011. I am indebted to her for allowing me to reproduce it here.

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