Lately, I’ve been hooked on Panchayat, the quietly brilliant series on Amazon Prime.
It’s a “slice-of-life” comedy-drama that draws viewers into the gentle rhythms, frustrations, and small victories of a sleepy rural Indian village.
The story follows Abhishek Tripathi, a young man from the city who, after failing to secure a better job, reluctantly accepts a position as the secretary of the Gram Panchayat, the elected village council, in the remote northern Indian village of Phulera (fictional).
In the early episodes, Abhishek is visibly unhappy with his assignment. The isolation, the slow pace of life, and the unfamiliar workings of rural governance leave him longing to return to the city.
But over time, he begins to see the village and its people differently. He forges close bonds with the village’s Pradhan (elected head), her affable husband, and other members of the community. He becomes a trusted (and adored) figure, working earnestly to solve problems ranging from street lighting to sanitation-issues that may appear small to outsiders, but are deeply important to villagers’ daily lives. The show’s charm lies in this transformation: a reluctant bureaucrat finding purpose in service, and a community embracing him as one of their own.
The Panchayat system: India’s grassroots governance
THE institution at the heart of the series is not fictional. The Panchayati Raj system is a cornerstone of India’s democratic framework, enshrined in the Constitution through the 73rd Amendment Act of 1992.
It formally integrates elected village councils into the country’s governance structure, placing them alongside urban municipalities as the two pillars of local self-government.
The Panchayati Raj operates through a three-tier structure in rural areas
Gram Panchayat at the village level, led by the Sarpanch or Pradhan.
Panchayat Samiti at the block or intermediate level.
Zila Parishad at the district level.
Elections are held every five years, conducted by State Election Commissions. The electorate is the local population itself, and seats are reserved for women, scheduled castes, scheduled tribes, and other backward classes to ensure representation from marginalised groups.
Each tier has elected members who deliberate and set priorities, and appointed officials (like Abhishek in Panchayat) who implement decisions, manage funds, and coordinate with State and national government schemes. Panchayats handle local planning, basic services, infrastructure development, and welfare program delivery.
They are embedded in the formal bureaucracy: village secretaries report up through the State administrative service, block development officers oversee clusters of villages, and district CEOs ensure alignment with policy and law.
For urban areas, there’s a parallel system under the 74th Constitutional Amendment, with municipal corporations, councils, and nagar panchayats functioning in much the same way.
In essence, Panchayat elections in rural India are analogous to municipal elections in towns and cities, with the same democratic principles and similar administrative frameworks, but adapted to the rural context.
What Panchayats do for democracy
The Panchayati Raj system has brought decision-making closer to the people. It creates direct accountability: the elected head of the Gram Panchayat lives in the same village as the voters and can be approached daily. It ensures responsiveness because priorities are set locally, not handed down from distant capitals. And it strengthens service delivery, as officials like the Panchayat Secretary have both the mandate and the resources to act on local needs without excessive bureaucratic detours.
Of course, it is not without challenges. Some panchayats are better run than others, corruption exists, and capacities vary. But where it functions well, it connects the democratic promise to tangible outcomes in people’s lives.
Imagining something similar for Fiji
Watching Panchayat inevitably makes me think about our own governance structures here in Fiji. While our contexts differ, the show highlights something that our democracy is struggling with: the gap between government and the communities it serves.
In Fiji today, several structural issues make this gap wider:
Unresponsive and unaccountable governance that too often leaves citizens feeling unheard.
Weak linkages between government and communities, with decisions made far from the people most affected.
No local MPs, because of our single national constituency electoral system, which means no one in Parliament is directly accountable to a specific geographic community.
An unaccountable political culture, where transparency and citizen oversight are too often absent and government responsiveness is very poor.
Undemocratic grassroots structures that lack legitimacy and independence.
Patriarchal norms that limit women’s participation in leadership.
In our case, we have no formalised local government in most of the country, with municipal councils suspended for two decades now and rural areas never having had a comparable democratic system. This has meant that, for many communities, the only point of contact with the state is through the bureaucracy or occasional political visits. There’s little scope for residents to directly elect, monitor, and replace local leaders.
An inspiration for local democracy?
There are lessons in the Panchayati Raj model’s integration of elected local bodies into the formal state structure, and in its deliberate effort to empower communities through regular elections, reserved representation, and clear functional mandates.
A Fijian system inspired by these principles could:
Create elected local councils in both rural and urban areas, with constitutionally guaranteed powers and responsibilities (rather than those provided by legislation or subsidiary legislation).
Ensure women and underrepresented communities have seats at the table through reserved quotas.
Link elected representatives directly to communities, making them accountable in real time, not just every national election cycle.
Integrate local councils into the bureaucracy so they have the authority, resources, and administrative support to act.
Create a culture of participation, where citizens debate, decide, and oversee local development priorities.
Such a model could help address the accountability vacuum, rebuild trust between government and citizens, and strengthen democratic culture from the ground up.
It could also be a step toward breaking the concentration of political power in a small elite (the PM and cabinet), giving ordinary citizens a stake in governance that goes beyond casting a vote once every four years.
In Panchayat, Abhishek comes to see that real change is made in solving the everyday problems that matter most to people: lighting a street, repairing a road, ensuring fair access to resources. His bond with the Phulera community, built through living among them and sharing their lives, transforms his approach to his work.
In Fiji, too, our democracy will be healthier when power and responsibility are shared more widely, and when the bonds between leaders and the people they serve are not only visible during campaign season but are part of the everyday fabric of governance.
At Dialogue Fiji, we believe that the work of building strong, accountable local governance (though often slow and unglamorous) is ultimately where democracy finds its meaning.
- NILESH LAL is the executive director of Dialogue Fiji. The views expressed herein are his alone.