How did ancient empires in India maintain law and order, sans the so-called technological advancements?
Simple and easily accessible judiciary procedures seem to have helped the Chola monarchs in maintaining law and order across their burgeoning kingdom. Upholding dharma, as described in traditional Indian texts, seems to be the virtue held foremost by the Cholas. Citing Manu and Sibi Chakravarti in their illustrious list of ancestors, they unabashedly boasted of their tradition of upholding justice at all times and ensuring fair trials. The Chola inscriptions have captured several incidents that throw light on how the legal framework functioned.
Local courts were as powerful as the local administration consisting of learned scholars. Those well versed in smriti texts and dharmaasana bhattas were identified and appointed as interpreters of the codified manuals on dharma and its practice. There were no lawyers to argue cases and individuals were allowed to defend themselves in the Chola judicial system. The local jury in concurrence with the interpreters (though this does not seem to be a mandate) of dharma sastras would hear the plea and examine witnesses and testimonies if any before passing a verdict. Segregating cases as civil and criminal apparently did not exist and the jury seems to have conducted all trials together. Involvement of the king or other prominent people in power seems to have been rare, depending on the severity of the crime and its consequences. The concept of appealing to higher courts was mostly unheard of and the word of the local sabha was accepted as final.
Here are some interesting episodes from the inscriptions, thanks to a remarkable system of documentation that meticulously recorded them for posterity.
Sequestration of property and deportation from the country seem to have been the ultimate punishments. Crimes like rioting or bothering the common public invited the above-mentioned punishments. A detailed record from the times of Kulotthunga III from Kilayur, a village near Thanjavur, describes in length the enquiry and punishment given to two individuals for rioting and public nuisance. The record goes on to say that the list of crimes includes causing trouble to the Brahmins, Vellalas and the temple there. Considered a serious offence, the local court punished them both with a penalty of 1,000 kasu. As they had no money, their properties were confiscated and sold to the temple at an estimated amount of 1,060 kasu. The extra amount was accounted as the penalty for delay in paying the fine. This incident was considered a worthy precedent and a royal order was passed warning about a fine of upto even 20,000 kasu if such offenses were committed in the future.
In another interesting verdict, the local administrative unit held a woman guilty for not settling her pending tax dues. The charges were however denied by the woman but she was accused in a public trial in full view of her relatives and neighbours. Unable to withstand the humiliation, she committed suicide. The dharmaasana bhattas who constituted the administrative unit were likely deemed guilty and unfit to continue the enquiry, and the situation required the intervention of scholars and dharma adhikaris from other regions and districts. So, we find that a committee of such scholars discussed further and levied a fine of 32 kasu on the man especially responsible for humiliating her.
Common offences including cattle lifting and petty thefts were investigated, with the punishment ranging from penalty to be paid to confiscation of property. Endowments to burn perpetual lamps in temples seem to be the most popular way of punishing culprits. The standard chart of offerings gives a choice of 96 sheep, 64 cows or 32 buffalos as donations to maintain one perpetual lamp. The cattle thus donated to the temple are leased to the local cowherds and they in turn are required to provide oil to burn the lamp. In return, they can make an income through other dairy products but had to ensure that the cattle count was never less than what was provided by the temple. This can be understood more as a means to repent for the crime than one to be endured as punishment.
Surprisingly, homicide cases where there was no premeditation too appear to have been dealt with similarly; the accused proven guilty was imposed a fine of burning one or more perpetual lamps in a temple. One singular case involved a juvenile offender charged with the murder of another juvenile in the times of Kulothunga I. While cutting wood with a sickle, the boy accidently hurt the other youngster and the latter succumbed to his injuries; the local jury, after enquiry, ordered the former’s father to create an endowment to burn half a perpetual lamp. In a very similar case but from the times of Kulothunga III, two men were punished in the same manner for beating to death a buffalo that was grazing their fields.
Imprisonment, corporal punishment or death penalty don’t seem to have been popular practices at these village or district-level courts. Serious offences like harming members of the royal family, indulging in acts that cause riots or instigating rebels against the government have led to confiscation of property of the offender and his family, and sometimes the extended family too. The property was then auctioned in public and the money deposited in the coffers.
In general, a case was tried not on face value but by applying interpretation of dharma sastras to the events leading to it, taking into account the circumstances and more importantly awarding judgement to uphold dharma rather than chastise. The approach seems to have been more on the side of dharma and repentance than one that focused on punishment and retribution.
Madhusudhanan Kalaichelvan, Architect, serves on the govt-instituted panel for conservation of temples in TN (madhu.kalai0324@gmail.com)