SUMAN K SHRIVASTAVA
Ranchi, Dec. 17: In the hills and forests of Santhal Pargana, governance did not arrive with statutes, elections, or stamped files. It grew out of the village itself. At its centre stood the Pradhan—also known as Manjhi or Mustajur—an institution older than the State. The Pradhan was not merely an office-holder. He was a bridge between land and people, custom and authority, ruler and ruled. Long before courts debated succession or consent, the Pradhan embodied continuity.
When the Santhal Pargana Tenancy Act came into force in 1949, it did not invent this institution. It preserved it. The law recognised what history had already settled: village leadership in Santhal Pargana rested on heredity, custom, and administrative recognition. Conscious of the vulnerability of tribal society, the Constitution later placed this law in the Ninth Schedule, insulating it from ordinary constitutional challenge.
Yet decades later, a deceptively simple question unsettled this carefully protected order:
Is the office of Pradhan hereditary, or must every successor be approved afresh by the village?
A Local Dispute With Regional Consequences
The controversy began quietly. A Pradhan died in a village where the institution had long existed. His daughter claimed succession. The local administration saw nothing irregular. The Rules spoke in gender-neutral language. Succession was hereditary. The woman lived in the village. The appointment followed.
The disruption came from above. A higher administrative authority cancelled the appointment and directed that villagers be consulted. What appeared to be a procedural correction reopened an old and widening fault line. Across Santhal Pargana, similar appointments were being questioned. Courts had spoken in different voices. Some treated heredity as the foundation of the office. Others insisted that villagers’ acceptance was necessary even for heirs.
By the time the matter reached the Jharkhand High Court, the conflict was no longer about one woman or one village. It threatened the stability of village governance across the region. The case was therefore placed before a Full Bench to settle the law once and for all.
Inside the Courtroom: What Each Side Told the Judges
When the case reached the Full Bench, the courtroom debate revealed why the confusion had lasted so long. Each side claimed to be defending the same law—but read it very differently.
The senior counsel for the petitioner began by placing the law in its historical and constitutional setting. He reminded the Court that the tenancy law governing Santhal Pargana is not an ordinary statute. It enjoys special constitutional protection and must therefore be applied exactly as written, not reshaped by judicial preference.
More importantly, he said, the office of Pradhan itself is far older than the law. Village headmen—known by different names such as Manjhi—existed long before independence. They collected rent, managed village affairs, and received a customary share for their work. The law did not create this institution; it merely regulated it across the districts of Santhal Pargana.
From this history flowed the heart of his argument: everything turns on the kind of village involved.
In a village where no Pradhan exists at all, leadership has to be created. That is why the law insists on villagers’ consent, participation, and general acceptance. But in a village where a Pradhan already exists and the office falls vacant due to death, the situation is entirely different. There, the law speaks of inheritance, not election.
In such villages, the counsel argued, succession is hereditary by design. The next heir must normally be appointed. Even a minor heir can succeed, with a guardian managing affairs until adulthood. Villagers’ opinion has no role here because the institution itself is not being created—it is being continued.
The lawyer was clear that heredity does not mean immunity. An heir can be refused only if found unfit, and only for serious reasons such as misconduct, incapacity, abuse of authority, or neglect of villagers’ interests. These are the same grounds on which a sitting Pradhan can be removed. Beyond these reasons, rejection is not permitted.
This, he argued, is where earlier court rulings went wrong. By importing villagers’ approval into hereditary cases, courts had applied the wrong rule to the wrong situation. If villagers’ consent is demanded even where inheritance applies, then the law’s recognition of heredity becomes meaningless.
In fact, the counsel pointed out that the woman claimant lived in the village despite being married elsewhere. The local administration had correctly applied the law. It was the higher authority, he argued, that had cancelled the appointment by confusing the two kinds of villages.
The Other Side: Fairness and Acceptance
The respondents’ counsel urged the Court to see the matter differently. He argued that there was no real conflict in past judgments and that courts had consistently tried to balance heredity with fairness.
According to him, even when a woman claims succession—especially in situations involving ghar-jamai or similar arrangements—the villagers’ acceptance still matters. He contended that the requirement of general acceptability should apply across the board, whether the appointment is the first or a hereditary one.
The State Government took a more balanced position. It supported the view that the office of Pradhan is hereditary and that women are legally eligible to succeed. At the same time, it maintained that appointments must still follow the overall framework of the law.
The Amicus Curiae Draws the Missing Line
Where the parties disagreed, the Amicus Curiae brought clarity.
He explained that the law deliberately creates two separate tracks. In villages without a Pradhan, villagers’ consent is essential before the office even comes into being. Once that consent is given and the first Pradhan is appointed, the village enters a different category altogether.
From that point onward, the office becomes hereditary.
The Amicus highlighted a crucial phrase in the Rules: the procedure is to be followed only “as far as possible.” This, he said, is the key to understanding the law. It means that not every requirement applies in every situation.
The rule about checking whether a candidate is generally acceptable applies only to the first appointment in a village that had no Pradhan. It does not apply where succession follows inheritance. To apply it there would destroy the idea of heredity altogether.
In hereditary cases, he stressed, the only question is fitness. The Deputy Commissioner may examine whether the heir is capable and honest, but cannot reject the heir simply because villagers were not consulted.
Why the Court Had to Speak Clearly
After hearing all sides, the Full Bench (WP © no. 3164 (2005), WP© no.1141 (2015), judgement delivered on February 22, 2023) recognised that the confusion was not accidental. It arose because earlier courts had mixed up two distinct legal pathways.
Justice Aparesh Kumar Singh, who authored the judgment, therefore examined the law afresh—not to innovate, but to restore its original design. What followed was not merely a judgment resolving a dispute, but a reset of the legal compass governing village leadership in Santhal Pargana.
The Distinction the Law Had Always Drawn
Justice Singh began by restoring a distinction that the law had always recognised but judicial interpretation had gradually blurred.
There are villages where no Pradhan exists at all. There are others where the office exists and has merely fallen vacant. These two situations, the Court held, cannot be treated alike.
Where a village has never had a Pradhan, leadership must be created. Villagers must be notified and consulted. Their collective acceptance matters because authority is being introduced.
Where a Pradhan has existed and has died, the law speaks not of choice, but of continuity. Succession follows lineage. The institution is carried forward, not reinvented.
Justice Ratnaker Bhengra, concurring, reinforced this foundation. A village without a Pradhan, he explained, is one where the office does not exist at all, irrespective of whether it existed in the distant past. Where a Pradhan has existed and the vacancy arises due to death, the village cannot suddenly be treated as one without leadership.
Heredity Is a Right, Not a Popular Vote
The full bench rejected the argument that even a hereditary successor must satisfy villagers’ approval. To impose such a condition, he held, would strip heredity of all meaning and turn succession into a recurring contest. It would expose the office to factional politics and endless litigation.
The law, he emphasised, speaks of fitness—not popularity.
Heredity is not absolute. An heir can be denied the office if found unfit—due to serious incapacity, misconduct, abuse of authority, exploitation of villagers, or neglect of duty. But refusal takes away a vested legal right. Therefore, the heir must be heard, and reasons must be recorded. Arbitrary rejection is impermissible.
Why Several Earlier Judgments Had to Be Overruled
At this point, the Court addressed the root of the confusion: earlier judicial decisions that had gradually distorted the legal framework.
Justice Singh explained that in several past cases, courts had wrongly imported requirements meant for villages without a Pradhan into cases of hereditary succession. These judgments treated hereditary right as merely “preferential,” subject to villagers’ acceptance, rather than as the normal rule of succession.
Key judgments were identified and corrected:
Jagdish Misra v. Chamaklal Misra (1965) – This decision suggested that villagers’ acceptability could be examined even in hereditary cases, without clear statutory support.
Smt. Swarnlata Devi v. State of Jharkhand (2003) – The Court wrongly required general acceptance of villagers even when succession was claimed by an heir.
Babu Lal Mandal v. State of Jharkhand (2008) – This judgment repeated the same error by blending procedures meant for different village situations.
Sogen Murmu v. State of Jharkhand (2012) – Perhaps the most influential misstep, this case reduced hereditary succession to a mere preference dependent on public approval.
Subhas Chandra Sah v. State of Jharkhand (2012) – This decision followed the same flawed reasoning.
The Full Bench held that these judgments misread the law by mixing two distinct processes. Once the statute grants a right of hereditary succession, that right cannot be diluted by conditions not found in the law. To that extent, all these decisions were expressly overruled.
The Court also clarified that earlier views allowing simultaneous consideration of hereditary succession and election were legally untenable. A village cannot be treated as both with and without a Pradhan at the same time.
Recognition Beyond Written Law
Justice Ratnaker Bhengra added an important historical layer. The law’s definition of village headman includes not only those appointed under the statute, but also those recognised by the administration—whether called Pradhan, Manjhi, or Mustajur.
The word “recognised,” he noted, acknowledges that village leadership often existed before formal legislation. Recognition could occur both before and after the law came into force. This confirmed that the statute did not seek to dismantle traditional governance, but to accommodate it.
In his view, the law carefully balances hereditary continuity with democratic participation, allowing each to operate where appropriate.
The Woman Heir and the Law’s Clear Language
On women’s succession, the Full Bench was unanimous.
Justice Singh observed that the law itself speaks in gender-neutral terms. It recognises succession through parents and uses language that includes both men and women. There is no legal basis to exclude women from inheriting the office of Pradhan.
Justice Anil Kumar Choudhary reinforced this point. If the law did not intend to allow women to succeed, he noted, it would not have used words like “mother” and “she.” The term “village headman,” therefore, necessarily includes a headwoman.
Whether a woman is the next heir depends on the family’s law of inheritance and established custom—not on assumption.
Custom Must Be Proved, Not Assumed
The Court rejected vague appeals to tradition. Justice Singh relied on historical records showing that Santhal custom has evolved. Widows and daughters have often been recognised as heirs to prevent hardship. Practices like ghar-jamai further demonstrate flexibility.
Justice Choudhary added that courts have already acknowledged that daughters of sonless Santhals inherit property in many areas. Customary law, the Court stressed, is not frozen.
If exclusion is claimed, it must be strictly proved. Courts cannot assume it.
A Quiet Restoration
This judgment did not seek to reform tribal governance by imposing modern ideas. It sought to restore what the law had always intended.
The full bench reaffirmed continuity without sacrificing accountability, tradition without denying equality, and stability without inviting arbitrariness. The concurring judges grounded this restoration in history, language, and lived custom.
The Pradhan remains an anchor of village life in Santhal Pargana.
And that continuity, the Court made clear, can pass not only from father to son, but also from father to daughter—without tradition losing its dignity, and without the law losing its meaning.
