Amin Sweeney

ABDULLAH BIN ABDUL KADIR

MUNSYI: A MAN OF BANANAS AND
THORNS
Abdullah bin Abdul Kadir Munsyi is best known for his memoirs, labelled by some
his autobiography, the Hikayat Abdullah. The missionary, Alfred North, encour-
aged him to write his life story, a rst in Malay, and it has been assumed that
Abdullah, working in a new genre, was relatively faithful to the conventions of
the genre; that at the very least, he was attempting to produce a tolerably straight-
forward account of his life and times. Both his admirers and detractors, though see-
mingly at odds, saw Abdullahs work as a mouthpiece for British values. It did not
occur to scholars that Abdullah might possess his own agenda, and that his working
in a foreign genre did not necessarily produce what those scholars assumed it did.
This has produced a blinkered understanding of what Abdullah was about. His
supreme aim was to enhance his own image and stature. Production of historical
facts was sometimes a secondary concern. Fiction and nonction were not yet
established conventions in his literary milieu. He worked under major constraints,
for his livelihood depended on not alienating patrons and future patrons, yet he
devised ways to air views critical of the powerful. Here he was much more concerned
with Islamic issues than ethnic ones.
Maka sekaliannya itu adalah seperti perkataan Melayu:
Mulut disuap pisang dan pantat dikait onak
I was delighted to receive an invitation to write something for this collection of
essays to celebrate Nigel Phillips. We have been friends for 42 years, which dates
us a tad, for we were reasonably adult when we rst met. As the editor of this
collection is aware, it has not been easy for me to decide on a topic. At rst,
I thought The Structure of Malay Poetry, with a focus on Minangkabau. But
no, Im no specialist on Minangkabau culture, even though marriage and adoption
into the Caniago clan did seem to provide instant credentials as an expert! So, I
thought, why not develop a paper I once wrote on Malay Studies as a Life Style? I
began, but soon realised that the paper would not be appropriate in a celebration.
The likely effect on the reader would be an attack of deep depression. . . So, the
third choice, by what might seem to be purely accidental great good fortune,
Indonesia and the Malay World Vol. 34, No. 100 November 2006, pp. 223245
ISSN 1363-9811 print/ISSN 1469-8382 online #2006 Editors, Indonesia and the Malay World
http://www.tandf.co.uk/journals DOI: 10.1080/13639810601130101
coincides with what I have been working on since retirement: Munsyi Abdullah!
However, this choice is not really accidental, for in the early seventies, Nigel and
I worked together to produce a translation of the Kisah Pelayaran Ibrahim Munsyi.
This was an account of the voyages of Abdullahs son, Ibrahim. Co-authoring with
Nigel was a delight never encountered again in more than thirty years! Everything
was done by snail mail, of course, but proceeded remarkably smoothly. I hope he
concurs!
Nevertheless, writing about Ibrahim Munsyi required our attention to the
writings of his father, Abdullah, who seemed so moralistic and preachy. It was,
therefore, extremely satisfying to read Ibrahims account of his fathers annual
visits to Melaka, for this depicts Abdullah as a great fun lover who splurged all
the money he saved in Singapore on pleasure trips and entertaining people to food
and drink, to the accompaniment of constant music and pantun singing.
1
Of course, in interpreting his writings, we must recognise that this biological
Abdullah may be of interest only if discrepancies are perceived between the man of
esh and blood and the authorial ethos created in the text. In fact, very little is
known about the life of Abdullah the man, as opposed to the Abdullah created in
his texts. This may seem surprising in view of the close relationship that Abdullah
claims with prominent persons such as Stamford Rafes, William Farquhar,
Lady Sophia Rafes and Thomas Newbold. Yet none of these personages ever
mentioned Abdullah in print; neither is he referred to in their letters. A few
short notices are known from Governor Butterworth and the missionaries
Alfred North and Benjamin Keasberry. Indeed the only physical description of
Abdullah comes from J. T. Thomson, a friend from circa 1846, who wrote
about him with sympathy and respect, even translating parts of the Hikayat
Abdullah. Yet Thomson provides little information about Abdullah that is not
provided by Abdullah himself.
Considering then what a shadowy gure Abdullah is historically meaning
realistically how little his European contemporaries wrote about him it is sur-
prising to observe the inexorable list of writings, mainly in English and Malay,
which presume to expound on the life of Abdullah. A friend recently asked me
why, in my opinion, has no one ever attempted to write a biography
of Abdullah. The answer has to be that the astute realise such a task to be
well-nigh impossible, and the obtuse imagine that such a task is superuous, for
Abdullah already produced one about himself! Sadly, the latter notion reigns
supreme. Scholars who should know better cheerfully trundle out Abdullahs
pronouncements about himself as somehow fact, unaware, it seems, that an
autobiography, memoir, or basically any account of a slice of ones own life is
a creation. And what autobiography is not a self-aggrandising creation? I have
written interminably about this issue, and shall limit myself to one particularly
illuminating example of what not to do, for it illustrates the still prevailing
modus operandi. Traill (1981: 43) cites an example from the Hikayat Abdullah,
where Abdullah depicts himself replying to the criticisms of his neighbours to
1
See Sweeney and Phillips 1975: 2627. See also Sweeney 2006: xvi xvii.
2 2 4 I NDONE S I A AND T HE MAL AY WORL D
whom he had shown a Malay version of the Bible lent to him by Milne. According
to Traills translation, Abdullah says:
. . . and can this book ruin our Faith? What is the meaning of Faith? As far as I
know, the meaning of Faith is Belief, and supposing I were to read a thousand
books on other religions, and do not believe in them, do I lose my Faith? . . .
Traills conclusion is:
This is pretty good from a young man of about twenty years old, speaking to the
old hands.
Of course, this is not from a 20 year-old man, but rather from the authorial ethos of
a 46 year old recreating himself as the young protagonist of his account. Abdullahs
writings tell us much about the author in the text, and the development of that author.
However, one should be extremely wary of accepting as some kind of historical fact
what Abdullah as protagonist is made to say and do by the authorial Abdullah. The
same is true of using Abdullahs writings about the past as historical source material
in general without a prior close reading of those writings. One may pardon historians
whose only access to Abdullah is via translation, for it must now surely be politically
incorrect to discriminate against the linguistically special. Indeed let us grant a
general amnesty to historians, who, we shall permit ourselves to imagine, are
primarily concerned with the referentiality of a text. But no such lenience may be
accorded to scholars of Malay literature! It is they who should have been squarely
confronting the text, seeking to understand its internal dynamics, rather than skirt-
ing it and following the gaze of the author to things outside the text. Of course,
referentiality won hands down, with the result that what could pass as literary nd-
ings have been meagre indeed, the consensus being innovation and particularly
realism, leading to Cyril Skinners declaration in 1959:
Agak pada tempatnya juga jika Abdullah dinamakan bapa sastera Melayu moden,
kerana di dalam karangan-karangannya ada anasir yang tidak terdapat di dalam
karangan-karangan sebelumnya
(Skinner 1959: 2)
If Skinner hoped to make his metaphor convincing, it would have surely made more
sense to seek out the metaphorical offspring rather than merely looking over his
shoulder at the past. Then, with Hooykaas (1961: 5354), he might have created
a metaphorical wife to participate. . .
While a considerable number of colonial scholars were especially enthralled with
the Hikayat Abdullah, a wide range of Malay opinion was particularly offended, and jus-
tiably so, by the Kisah Pelayaran Abdullah ke Kelantan. A. H. Edrus (1960) devoted a
whole book to the subject. Abdullah might have been alarmed to learn that his little
travel journal which could be bought at Mr Norths house was transformedinto a spear-
head of British propaganda for the delights of colonialism, to be rammed down the
throats of generations of Malay schoolchildren in 19 reprints. In the Malay press there
emerged two points of view, one accepting the notion of Abdullah as father of Malay
literature or actually, and more importantly, as social critic the other of Abdullah
A MAN OF BANANAS AND T HORNS 2 2 5
the tali barut, the stooge of the English. With few exceptions one being Kassim
Ahmads perceptive introduction to his 1960 (and 1964) edition of the two Kisah
Pelayaran Abdullah, another Taib Osmans (Mohd. Taib 1974) discovery of an edition
of the Ceretera Kapal Asap little movement was made away from the double-headed
formula of Father vs Stooge. This is not surprising, for the apparent controversy reected
more the concerns of Malay society around the time of independence. Indeed, if there
was movement, it was rather to other, more current concerns. Thus, for example, in
August 1996, an international conference was held, entitled Seminar Antarabangsa
Munshi Abdullah Sempena Perayaan 200 Tahun Munshi Abdullah, to discuss the
relevance of Munsyi Abdullah to the present concerns of Malaysian society. So we had
Abdullah as a global thinker, Abdullah as an Islamic missionary, and the like. The advan-
tage of such an approach is that little serious attention to Abdullahs writing is required.
Indeed, the latest developments indicate that in Malaysia and Indonesia, Munsyi
Abdullah has become a formulaic cluster of erroneous old chestnuts. One need look
only at four recent publications, which present themselves as the cutting edge. The
sections on Abdullah are deplorable, on a par with the dozens of dreadful little school
textbooks published in Indonesia from the 1950s onwards.
2
As noted above, both those who saw Abdullah as a major innovator and those who
considered him a British stooge focused attention upon only two of his works. And even
in the case of those who promoted himas a major innovator, that attention was less than
intense. One of the most alarming examples is Winstedts confusing the Syair Singapura
Terbakar with the Syair Kampung Gelam Terbakar, based upon what could have been
only a very perfunctory reading of the Hikayat Abdullah. No less remarkable is that,
in the 20-odd years between the two editions of Winstedts History of (Classical)
Malay Literature, he did not, apparently, become aware of this glaring error.
3
An intensive study of the whole range of Abdullahs works would hopefully have
demonstrated more than the paltry observations such as that Abdullahs writing dis-
played realism, a convention that scholars saw as some absolute value, and which
they tended to confuse with reality.
4
The lively descriptions and vivid pen por-
traits also presented as hallmarks of his innovativeness are praises long accorded
to the Sulalatus-Salatin. Essentially, Abdullahs supporters for fatherhood have
done him a great disservice. Their observations based largely on one text, the
Hikayat Abdullah, have reduced Abdullah to a frozen icon as effectively as those
who dubbed him a stooge. But let us not waste our righteous scorn further upon
individual predecessors, for we have a bigger sh to fry: the latest edition of the Ency-
clopaedia Britannica, which says it all for them, and more!
An American missionary, Alfred North, seems to have encouraged Abdullah in
1837, on the strength of a lively account published in that year of Norths experi-
ences on a voyage up the east coast of Malaya, to embark on the story of his life.
Completed in 1843, under the title Hikayat Abdullah (Abdullahs Story), it was
2
See Sweeney 1987: 28694. The four publications are Sastra Melayu Lintas Daerah, Ensiklopedi
Sastra Indonesia, Indonesian Heritage Series and The Encyclopedia of Malaysia. They are discussed in
Sweeney 2006: xxi xxiii. A fth, of a similar standard, is Siti Aisah Murad (1996).
3
See Sweeney 2006: 3136, 6566.
4
See Sweeney 2005: Pandangan Umum.
2 2 6 I NDONE S I A AND T HE MAL AY WORL D
rst published in 1849; it has been reprinted many times and translated into
English and other languages. Its chief distinction beyond the vivid picture it
gives of his life and times was the radical departure it marked in Malay literary
style. In contrast to the largely court literature of the past, the Hikayat Abdullah
provided a lively and colloquial descriptive account of events and people with a
freshness and immediacy hitherto unknown.
More lively accounts and vivid pictures. But best of all, the attention of the writer of
this piece is so single-mindedly focused upon the Hikayat Abdullah that he nds it
expedient to have North take Abdullahs place on a voyage to Kelantan in 1837
and publish a lively account of it the same year, doubtlessly taking the wind out of
Abdullahs sails when he took a similar voyage in 1838 and published another
lively account in the same year. Only the latter account has survived!
5
And, by
the way, the writer of the entry must have dreamed up 1837 as the year North
encouraged Abdullah to write his memoirs. According to the Hikayat Abdullah,
the year was 1840. Still, the Britannica writer is nothing if not fair. He acknowledges
other views of Abdullah. However, the Munsyi is not to be labelled a brown-nosing
stooge of the British. With commendable phlegm, the writer concedes only that
certain nationalists have treated Abdullah with some caution:
Abdullahs criticisms of his own society, and his eagerness to embrace standards
set by the West (though he remained a staunch Muslim), have caused him to be
treated with some caution by a more recent generation of nationalists, but he
continues to be widely acknowledged as the father of modern Malay literature.
It would have been useful to be told which society was Abdullahs own. But his
paternal stature is maintained. Oh, and the Britannica writer has Abdullah die in
Jeddah. He died in Mecca.
In the following, I intend to provide a survey of the Abdullah, or better,
Abdullahs in the text, of course that I have come to know over the past
eight years. Abdullahs rst work was a relatively long narrative poem, the Syair
Singapura Terbakar. According to the author, it was written in 1830. It was litho-
graphed only in 1843. Copies are known to exist only in Leiden and recently
rediscovered by Ian Proudfoot in the Houghton Library of Harvard University.
Prior to being published in the Karya Lengkap Abdullah bin Abdul Kadir Munsyi
series (Sweeney 2006), this work had never been studied. Wilkinson clearly had
access to a copy; Winstedt did not.
This work will surprise both father and stooge factions. Abdullah presents
himself simply as an anak Melaka. The syair is mainly concerned with recounting
the experiences of the Melakan Baba Chinese who suffered losses in the re. The
author clearly has an intimate acquaintance with Baba culture, making liberal use
of Baba terms unlikely to be understood by most speakers of Malay. Indeed, when
the syair opens, Abdullah is residing in the home of Baba Ghee Ho, prior to
5
As there is not exactly a glut of irony on the market in these times, and as Nigel may not be my
only reader, one should perhaps point out that North never went to Kelantan and the only account
of a voyage to Kelantan is that of Abdullah in 1838.
A MAN OF BANANAS AND T HORNS 2 2 7
Chinese New Year. And then the inferno. Abdullah mentions 32 Babas by name. The
syair but not Abdullah in person even follows the delegation of Babas reporting
the disaster to business associates and family in Melaka. The convincing portrayal
(I avoid lively description!) of events in Melaka, unwitnessed by Abdullah person-
ally, reveals a air for writing ction displayed on occasion in the Hikayat Abdullah.
And I do not mean that as criticism.
What of praise for British values? None. Abdullah provides snapshots of the
foibles of persons of a variety of origins. Sarkies, an Armenian, knocks back a
whole bottle of arrack; Mr Frazer, his limbs atremble, strives in vain to save his
barrel of, yes, arrack again. Baba Kim Swee is so confused that, in his efforts to
save his property, he ends up laundering his merchandise in the Bras Basah river.
Bawa Sab lies on his back, eyes closed, intent on dying with his wealth. Afrmative
action cameo appearances!
And what does Abdullah have to say about the government? Read on:
Demikianlah hal negeri gobar
Raja Singapura tiadalah keluar
Pecahlah ke mana2 itu khabar
Orang yang menengar pun tiadalah gemar.
The raja referred to has to be the Resident Councillor, Kenneth Murchison. Assuming
that this verse is not an interpolation (though apparently circulated in manuscript
form, the syair was printed only in 1843), we have here a remarkably blunt criticism
of an incumbent ofcial. Yet, in its context, this is by no means out of place.
Abdullah repeatedly refers to the brutal behaviour of the security forces and twice
depicts himself intervening to save Chinese from being mistreated. On three
occasions he mentions, with sympathy, the plight of Chinese merchants who
bemoan their indebtedness to British trading companies.
It has become something of a cliche to laud Abdullah for his skills as a journalist.
Few people seem to be aware of when and why Abdullah came to be regarded as a
news reporter. It is assumed that the travel journal of his voyage to Kelantan and
his Hikayat Abdullah demonstrate his journalistic abilities. Yet memoirs are hardly
breaking news! J. T. Thomson (1874: 231) was the rst to dub Abdullah a journalist:
His sangfroid in the confusion, and under his fever, is amusing. By his own account,
he was a true Times reporter. He was, of course, referring to Abdullahs account
of the 1830 re. Yet even Thomson does not mention the syair; he is referring to
Abdullahs account in the hikayat. In my estimation, the Syair Singapura Terbakar
is a splendid piece of journalism. And, I would submit, it was intended as journalism.
At the time, there was but one newspaper in Singapore, the Singapore Chronicle, pub-
lished twice a month. One reason I shy away from the use of vivid descriptions and
lively accounts to praise Abdullahs writing is that these phrases are always used as a
side swipe at Malay literature before Abdullah. But here one may use this praise as a
side swipe at the Singapore Chronicle, for Abdullahs account is innitely superior to
the narrow, biased coverage presented in that paper for its readership of London
shopkeepers (apologies to J. T. Thomson). This and much, much more as
American anchor persons always say, is available in the second volume of the
Abdullah series!
2 2 8 I NDONE S I A AND T HE MAL AY WORL D
Then things changed. In 1836, Alfred North arrived in Singapore. He was an
American Protestant evangelist of limited tolerance, as one conditioned by the
euphemistic discourse of the Orde Baru might say. Ian Proudfoot, referring to
entries in Norths diary, notes in a personal communication:
The criticism that this (i.e., Muslim services are conducted in Arabic) degrades
them to a level with papists is severe criticism from North, who elsewhere
refers to the Roman Catholic chapel as here for the use of the Beast.
Abdullah began working for North as teacher and translator. A remarkable symbiosis
seems to have developed between the two men. North encouraged Abdullah to write
on his own account, and thus not merely as a collaborator in and writer of Gospel
translations. Abdullahs interest in writing a journal during his voyage to Kelantan
was encouraged by North and the result, Kisah Pelayaran Abdullah ke Kelantan, was
launched by him into print. This was a revolutionary development in Malay litera-
ture. Of course, Norths motives were not entirely altruistic. The kisah was
written in two stages. North wrote in a letter (October 1843):
On his return he showed me a meagre outline of the occurrences of the trip, and
wished to know what sort of matter European travellers are accustomed to intro-
duce into such journals. I took some pains to inform him; he re-wrote the whole,
and made a variety of remarks on the manners and customs of the inhabitants of
the east coast, as I had suggested.
The result was a tissue of contradictions, for there was no attempt to reconcile the
two stages. Thus, rstly, we have an account of the voyage where Abdullah and his
party enjoy the hospitality of various Malay rajas, who seem, by Abdullahs own
account, to have treated him very decently. Then there is the revision, which is
largely presented as Abdullahs musings. Here we are regaled with all the negative
stereotypes about Malay rulers cherished by those members of the European commu-
nity in Singapore who dreamed of intervention. Here, of course, the evangelical
Protestants, who always followed the ag, were in the forefront. The Kisah Pelayaran
Abdullah ke Kelantan was something of a triumph for North. It provided him with a
legitimised version of gripes about Malays and praise for the British, actually
written by a real Malay, which could be employed as topoi. And of course, they
were, as we see, for example, in the Ilmu Kepandaian Orang Eropah and in the colla-
borative part of the Ceretera Kapal Asap, where there are repeated references to
material in the kisah (Sweeney 2005: 8; 2006: 24549).
The last-named work, the Ceretera Kapal Asap, is in two parts. The rst is an
account of Abdullahs visit to the steamship Sesostris, written at the request of
North who wished there to be an account explaining steamships to Malays. One
might expect that Abdullah would not write this piece for a European audience,
who would likely not appreciate having European technology explained to them in
Malay! Yet the audience implied is but ostensibly Malay; the piece is, in fact, a rhe-
torical tour de force, a mini hikayat intended as a model of propriety, an exemplar of
all that is patut (tting) for the guidance of those seeking to master the ner points of
Malay composition people such as the friend who asked Abdullah to write the piece!
A MAN OF BANANAS AND T HORNS 2 2 9
The second part of the Ceretera Kapal Asap is a collaborative effort, with North
providing the main argument and Abdullah the language.
6
The piece provides an
account of the various uses of steam for a Malay audience North was always
optimistic that his works would be read by Malays but his main thrust becomes
obvious in the last six pages, where he himself becomes unconscionably steamed
up about all things Arab! Arabs are responsible for all the woes of the Malays,
even providing them with pornography. Their greatest wickedness, however, is
forcing Malays to study books in a language they do not understand. Yes, we are
back to the league of papists and the Beast! North is attacking the study of the
Quran in Arabic.
What is of interest here is not Norths capacity for bigotry, but rather imagining
Abdullahs reaction as he is required to write in Malay this virulent attack on the race
of his Arab forbear, Sheikh Abdul Kadir, and the study of the Quran. But let us
remember that this was 1841, and he had begun writing his Hikayat Abdullah.
Here, the record is put straight: Abdullah is extremely positive about Arabs;
indeed his own birth was possible only because of the blessing of an Arab saint,
Habib Abdullah. And Abdullah dwells happily and at length on his Quran studies.
Abdullah is thus able to dene his attitude towards the views of his employer,
North, without having to refer to them directly. And North may continue to be
praised to the skies as his good friend.
It is in the Hikayat Abdullah that Abdullah acquires a voice that is sufciently
subtle to be tolerable for himself and acceptable to his mentors. A more respectable
title for this article might well be A Subaltern Learns to Speak, but as Nigel tends to
see through pretentiousness, I trust he will prefer my equally chic post-modernist
allusion to bananas and thorns. It is in the Hikayat Abdullah that the Munsyi displays
his capacity for muslihat.
7
No longer do we encounter the blunt criticism of incum-
bent high colonial ofcialdom contained in the Syair Singapura Terbakar of his pre-
North-Keasberry days. Neither are we subjected to the naive promotion of colonial
prejudices acquired from North which lls the pages of the Kisah Pelayaran Abdullah
ke Kelantan. The former work being unknown, it was largely the uncritical adherence
to Northian values of the latter which led to Abdullahs being dubbed a tali barut or
stooge of the British. Cursory reading unfortunately the norm of the Hikayat
Abdullah has often supported that negative view among readers in Malaya (sub-
sequently Malaysia). Undeniably, Abdullah does his share of toadying, the splendid
term used by Proudfoot (2000a: 64) to describe the Munsyis musings to the gallery
prior to meeting Americans (and his future employer North) for the rst time. This
was carefully crafted, highly disingenuous toadying, and as Proudfoot (2000a: 69)
stresses, We never catch Abdullah in an unguarded moment. This should not
deter us, for if a little toadying were enough to earn the soubriquet stooge, then
6
Translation was apparently an oral process, for Abdullah, according to his friend John Turnbull
Thomson, had no control over written English: He spoke broken English, but could not write,
nor had Abdullah a critical knowledge of English (Sweeney 2006: 245).
7
Muslihat is often translated as cunning, but that gives it a somewhat negative connotation,
whereas it is neutral until given a context. The master of muslihat is mousedeer, the little creature
who humbles the great. But where is he now when we need him?
2 3 0 I NDONE S I A AND T HE MAL AY WORL D
what of the modern Malaysian mass media? But let us move on, lest I undermine my
argument further!
While Abdullah repeatedly proclaims his freedom of expression under the
British ag, it was a relative freedom. He was clearly subject to the constraints of
two employers, rst North and then Keasberry, without whose support his
writing would never have been printed. Yet he acquired much skill in negotiating
these constraints. In the matter of religion, for example, this staunch Muslim
walked a tight rope between Christianity and Islam, keeping carefully to the
common ground shared by both religions. Thus, throughout his career he did not
once mention the name of the prophet Muhammad in his writings
8
; he did,
however, succeed in voicing theological reservations in the guise of linguistic
arguments.
9
The skill required by Abdullah to express his views is revealed by a comparison
of the manuscript version of the Hikayat Abdullah, completed in 1843, with the
printed edition, lithographed in 1849. It seems that many of his opinions did not
pass muster with Keasberry and his coterie. The manuscript version provides
some refreshingly offensive remarks about certain of the missionaries. For
example, Mr. Evans did not fare well! He is described as brutal and without
nesse in all his actions, lacking patience, inattentive to his studies, and unfriendly.
As a result of all this, most people did not take him to be a clergyman, imagining him
rather to be more like a sailor . . ..
10
Another example concerns Abdullahs doubt
about the future of the Singapore Chamber of Commerce. He remarks that . . . it
still exists in Singapore to the present time, but I see that it is becoming increasingly
enfeebled and in my estimation it will eventually cease to exist.
11
Remarks such as
these disappeared in the printed version. After all, in this colony of shopkeepers, it
would have been more acceptable to disparage Queen Victoria rather than their holy
shrine to commerce! And the repeated attacks on missionaries with no ability to
learn Malay needed to be toned down considerably by Keasberry, who oversaw
the printing of the hikayat.
But these examples from the manuscript version are merely odd thorns and I
provide them to illustrate the level of subterfuge needed for a critique of a particu-
larly illustrious gure, supreme icon of the shopkeepers, to survive in print. And that
personage was Stamford Rafes himself! Doubtless, Abdullah admired Rafes, but it
was not the kind of fawning hero worship assumed by those who dubbed him a stooge
yet failed to offer his work a careful reading. The quality which most impressed
Abdullah in Rafes seems to have been his capacity for subterfuge, cunning and
8
In the account of his pilgrimage, he did mention the prophet Muhammad, but of course,
Keasberry took care of that! See Sweeney 2005: 7, 79, 25960.
9
This is discussed at length in the third volume of the Abdullah series.
10
. . . pembengis dan barang sesuatu perbuatannya tiada dengan lemah lembutnya; dan lagi kurang sabar-
nya dan kurang bertekun ia belajar. . . Dan lagi yaitu tiada beramah2an dengan orang. Maka adalah sebab
segala kelakuannya yang tersebut itu, kebanyakan orang yang tiada mengenal akan dia paderi; pada sangka
orang seperti orang pelayaran . . .
11
Maka adapun pekerjaan itu adalah jalan dalam negeri Singapura sampai pada masa ini, akan tetapi
kulihat adalah makin lama makinlah lemah adanya. Maka pada sangkaku adapun muafakat itu dapatiada
lama-kelamaannya kelak hilanglah juga.
A MAN OF BANANAS AND T HORNS 2 3 1
subtlety. Indeed the title of this article echoes the adage which Abdullah applied to
Rafess treatment of the Temenggung of Singapore: Mulut disuap pisang, buntut dikait
onak (The mouth is fed with bananas while the backside is stabbed with thorns).
There is a pleasant irony in the fact that this is Abdullahs own approach in
writing about Rafes.
As there are still those who imagine that Rafes was the patron who encouraged
Abdullah to write his memoirs,
12
it should be pointed out that the bananas were not
intended for the biological Rafes, who had been dead 14 years when Abdullah was
invited by Alfred North to write his hikayat. This was not an aspect of the so-called
toadying, which was directed towards mentors or potential mentors, and was a
practical way of furthering his livelihood, still entirely normal in the Europe of
his day. Abdullah wrote about the legendary Rafes for his implied audience, which
included such mentors. Abdullahs claimed relationship with Rafes was his greatest
credential and he exploited it to maximum effect in his hikayat, which thus became a
permanent testimonial in print to that credential. Abdullah does not merely provide
a detailed acknowledgement of all the bounties he has received from Rafes; he
creates dialogue producing internal witnesses such as his prospective employers
Milne, Thomsen and Newbold to demonstrate the importance of his Rafes connec-
tion as a reference. Most striking of all is Abdullahs focus on stressing to his readers
the close emotional bond between Rafes and himself. Indeed, Mr and Mrs Rafes
were like a father and mother to him.
This is not the place to discuss the nature of Abdullahs implied audience, as this
topic is dealt with exhaustively and exhaustingly in the Karya Lengkap Abdullah bin
Abdullah Kadir Munsyi, vols. 13 (Sweeney 2005, 2006 and forthcoming). Sufce
it to say here that when he wrote for a European reader, the audience postulated
was, obviously, Abdullahs creation, reecting on occasion a somewhat limited
understanding of even the common ground of European norms and mores, especially
when touching on matters outside the tutelage of the Reverend North and other
Europeans with whom he worked closely. Thus, Abdullahs nal parting with
Mr and Mrs Rafes is likened to a sons bereavement. Rafes cannot restrain his
tears, and as the ship sails off, their eyes are upon each other; Rafess last wave
is for him. This is a poignant farewell, at least for those with a taste for melodrama.
Unfortunately, as is the case in many historical novels, referentiality rears its ugly
head. Did you say Stamford Rafes? Yet read even as a purely literary creation,
the sad parting with beloved European employer scene becomes a tad less convincing
when repeated, for it acquires the avour of a formula. Abdullahs teary-eyed parting
with Newbold caught the attention of that most astute reader of the Hikayat Abdullah,
J. T. Thomson (1874: 257), who remarks that The sensations at parting are
described by Abdulla, no doubt, as they ought to be, but not as they were. And
even a reader determined to accept the role of audience created and proferred by
Abdullah may encounter some difculty with the following if that reader has any
knowledge of Rafes outside the hikayat. There had been a previous sad parting
with Mr and Mrs Rafes even then portrayed as being like a father and mother
to him prior to the invasion of Java. The difculty is that Abdullah nowhere
evinces any awareness of a major change in the Rafes household after Rafess
12
See, for example, Indonesian Heritage Series, vol. 10, Language and Literature.
2 3 2 I NDONE S I A AND T HE MAL AY WORL D
arrival in Singapore. Perhaps those European women all looked the same to him! But
he surely would have noticed that the woman who was like a mother to him had
changed radically. One might have expected that Abdullah, as an informed
insider, would have heard about the widely-bruited death of Olivia Mariamne.
Surely this would have prompted some written grief. But no, one surrogate
mother segues seamlessly into the second. If I were not focused on Abdullahs
writing as literature, I might be inclined to pause dramatically at this point to
inquire: Did Abdullah ever meet Rafes? I anticipate the reaction: just look at the
detailed descriptions he provides of Rafess everyday life. One might have to
retort that Abdullahs account of Farquhars founding Singapore was no less detailed,
not to mention lively and vivid!
This should sufce as a serving of bananas. What of the thorns? Abdullahs
writing indicates a genuine admiration for many aspects of Rafess character. And
he certainly did not intend to bite the hand that fed him posthumously. But the
odd thorn in the bum might be refreshing. I am concerned here with what survived
in the 1849 printed edition, as that is the version used by all commentators in print
apart from Thomson, and their reactions concern us here. However, it is surely rel-
evant to provide at least one example of a thorn that did not survive in the transition
from manuscript to edition. In the manuscript version, one reads about Mrs Rafes:
Maka adalah seolah2 kulihat hal kelakuannya dan usahanya itu: maka ialah yang me-
megang pekerjaan suaminya itu dan ialah yang mengajar akan suaminya itu
In the 1849 edition (pp. 9192), the teacher has been diluted into helpmate!
Maka adalah seolah2 kulihat hal kelakuannya dan usahanya itu: maka ialah yang me-
megang pekerjaan suaminya itu dan ialah penolong suaminya itu.
Clearly, this rather obvious thorn did not suit Keasberrys taste! North, who knew
only the manuscript version, seemed quite content with the comment. Americans!
Indeed, in a letter dated November 1843, he provides a purported translation of the
passage in the hikayat. It reads:
I noticed that Lady Rafes was a woman of great talents, greater than her hus-
bands. If any difcult matter was laid before him, he would go to her for
advice, and abide by her decision.
13
A much more effectively concealed thorn has remained hidden to this day. This may
be the best practical joke in Malay literature! Our Munsyi must be endlessly tickled
to see generation after generation of scholars, colonial and beyond, trundle out his
phrenology passage, which purports to interpret the meaning of Rafess facial
features and other corporeal attributes, and does so in the most glowing terms, of
course. Just before we see what is actually in that bucket poised precariously over
the door, let me warm up the audience with a quote from Hill (1955: 15), who
13
It will be seen below that Norths quotes are more likely to have been taken from what
Abdullah conveyed to him orally than from Abdullahs text itself.
A MAN OF BANANAS AND T HORNS 2 3 3
provides a typical reaction to Abdullahs passage. Hill rst mentions various biogra-
phies of Rafes. Then:
Yet the most intimate and pleasing portrait of the great man, as he appeared to
the eyes of a hero-worshipping yet discerning Asian, comes from the pen of
Abdullah. In a passage often quoted he mentions Rafess broadness of brow, a
sign of thoroughness; his projecting forehead, a sign of intelligence; his large
ears, the mark of a ready listener.
Of course, Hill should have been more aware that the interpretation of the hero-
worshipping yet discerning Asian was not that of the 14 year old Abdullah-the-
observer created as a younger version of the 46 year old writer of his memoirs,
but that need not detain us here. Abdullah was a devotee of the Tajus-Salatin. In
his Kisah Pelayaran Abdullah ke Kelantan (Sweeney 2005: 153) he stresses:
. . .patutlah segala raja2 itu menaruh kitab Tajus-Salatin (ertinya: Mahkota Segala
Raja2) dan menilik akan dia pada tiap2 hari dan mencari orang yang tahu dan
belajar daripadanya dan menerima segala nasihat orang yang alim. . .
Indeed, the advice proffered to Tengku Temena of Kelantan is taken by Abdullah
from Fasal yang Kedua puluh, pada menyatakan peri segala rakyat dengan raja dalam
kerajaan itu of the Tajus-Salatin. This is not surprising, for the work has been
enormously prestigious in the Malay world, and the author, clearly not lacking in
self-esteem, mandates the Quran and his own book as the only suitable works to
be read.
14
It so happens that this canonical work contains a section on ilmu kiafat
dan rasat, which covers the spectrum of phrenology and more (see table). This
surely must have been an authoritative source for Abdullah. Checking off Rafess
attributes with their meaning in the Tajus-Salatin must have been an informative
experience for him. The majority of the attributes listed in his Hikayat Abdullah
reveal a splendid assortment of character defects according to the key in the
Tajus-Salatin! Thank God, at least, for the wide mouth, a sign of courage; thin
lips indicating a good memory; those wide ears, a sign of prudence and again of
good memory, but also a sign of a quick temper. As for the rest, well, that blond
hair indicates a lack of character and a quick temper; the wide forehead is a sign
of hating and contentiousness; the cheeks indicate a lack of integrity; the tapering
neck indicates cowardice in all things; the broad chest is a sign of inattention and
laziness; the sharp nose indicates weak character and mental confusion; the cast in
the left eye comes dangerously close to the Tajus-Salatin interpretation of double
vision, which is a sign of the accursed. Abdullah at least wisely steered clear of
the colour of Rafes eyes, for blue eyes indicate shamelessness, and they are the
worst possible colour for eyes. Rafes? This does not help my own self-esteem!
Abdullah clearly provided his own, much more positive readings of Rafess face.
He may have hoped that none of those tuan-tuan would start poking around in the
Tajus-Salatin, aware that Abdullah appraised it so highly!
14
Braginsky (2000) provides a perceptive and provocative analysis of this work. See also Braginsky
2004: passim.
2 3 4 I NDONE S I A AND T HE MAL AY WORL D
Hikayat Abdullah, 1849: 8182 Taju s-Salatin, 1827: 189193
Dahinya luas, alamat besar hematnya. Dahi yang luas yang tiada ada banyak urat
dan banyak kerut padanya itu tanda
pembencian dan pembantahan
Dan rambutnya warna pe rang, alamat
berani.
Dan telinganya lebar, alamat banyak
penengaran.
dan rambut yang kuning itu kurang budi
dan segerah gusar
telinga yang besar itu tanda budi dan
ingat, tetapi segerah gusar dan segerah
pula hilang gusarnya itu
Bulu keningnya lebat kening yang lebat bulunya itu tanda
percintaan
dan matanya sebelah kiri ada juling2 air Bermula mata itu yang satu itu barang
pada penglihatnya dua kelihatan dan
mata yang awar itu tanda celaka
dan mata yang biru itu tanda tiada
malu dan dalam ilmu kiafat dan rasat
itu dikatakan terjahat daripada segala
warna mata itu yang ada biru
dan hidungnya mancung Maka hidung yang panjang dan mancung
itu tanda kurang budi dan sarsar
dan pipinya cengkung sedikit pipi yang nipis dan kuning itu tanda
kejahatan pekerti
dan bibirnya nipis, alamat pandai
berkata2,
bibir mulut yang tipis itu tanda ingat
dan mulutnya luas Mulut yang luas itu tanda berani
dan lehernya jinjang leher yang panjang dan tirus itu tanda
penakut dan hamaqat dalam segala hal
dan dadanya bidang, Dada yang bidang itu tanda alpa dan
malas
Colonial scholars were entranced with Abdullahs writings, for they dealt with
everyday events in a realistic fashion. That meant, of course, that they were referential,
to the extent that Winstedt saw the Hikayat Abdullah as the best record of Malayan
events of his period (Sweeney 2005: 1114). Elsewhere, I have written at length
about the conventional nature of any distinction made between ction and non-
ction. In the Malay world, with the semantic relling of the word sastera to translate
(in its form kesusasteraan) the Western concept of literature as belles lettres, a distinc-
tion arose between writing as an art and as a craft; literature was divided into clear
categories of ction and non-ction, whereas previously there had been a
continuum from true to not true with a very large area of maybe. For traditional
Kelantanese dalang in the 1960s, the invention of new tales was not openly welcomed as
creativity; rather it was condemned as fabrication and lies (Sweeney 1989: 102; 1994:
5962). Yet new tales were produced notwithstanding.
Abdullah lived in a Malay literary world as yet undivided into ction and
non-ction. Rather there was a continuum from fact to fabrication. Both the
Tajus-Salatin and the Reverend North could agree on at least one thing: all the
A MAN OF BANANAS AND T HORNS 2 3 5
old hikayat were tissues of lies. But what of the realistic depiction of everyday events
with all those lively and vivid descriptions in Abdullahs writing? Colonial scholars
took this as evidence of impeccable referentiality; what Abdullah reported was
accepted without question unless a reliable colonial source contradicted it.
15
Or
unless it portrayed British behaviour in ways that outraged accepted British
standards.
An episode that passed both these tests is Dari Hal Tengku Panglima Besar. Hill
(1955: 16) tells us, To Abdullah belongs credit for the only record of an episode
in the preparations for the Java expedition, a minor affair in which Rafes for
once was outwitted. The tale relates how a Siak prince, delegated to act as Rafess
secret envoy to Java, instead passed his time with a little recreational piracy around
Jambi until it was time to return to Melaka, bearing a forged letter purporting to be
the response from the Susuhunan of Mataram to Rafess missive. His perdy is dis-
covered and Rafes is humiliated in front of Lord Minto. Not such a minor affair
perhaps! But as Gallop (1994: 149) relates with some glee, This is a lovely story,
and even Rafess most ardent admirers must admit amusement at the sight of the
great man tricked by the agent in whom he had professed such trust. Gallop then
goes on to demolish Abdullahs account in almost every respect, producing the
letters that Tengku Panglima (actually Pengiran/Pangeran) Besar had written from
Java. She admits some trepidation at putting a damper on the hilarity: At the risk
of further ruining a good story, an examination of the paper of all the letters . . .
and she goes on to present unassailable evidence concerning paper and watermarks.
Had Hill been aware of all this, he would probably have dismissed Abdullahs
account as a blunder; we shall see that was his approach on another occasion
where Abdullah and truth failed to connect. But this was no blunder, for he
claimed to be an eyewitness to some of the best parts of the story, a good deal of
which he acquired by eavesdropping at Rafess door! I also do not consider that
Gallop ruined a good story; on the contrary she has cleared the way for us to look
at this episode in a new light: creative writing! The placing of this tale is brilliant.
I have mentioned Abdullahs admiration for Rafess craftiness. Here the great out-
witter is outwitted, and in front of an illustrious audience: Lord Minto. Abdullah
demonstrates remarkable shrewdness in gauging his readers reaction. It clearly
has not offended British taste. On the contrary, one sees that it is not only Australians
who relish cutting down the tall poppies. Those who use Abdullahs detailed
depiction of everyday events as evidence of referentiality should read the Pangerans
confession. And one of the most memorable passages in Malay literature has to
be the wonderful portrayal of Rafes, limbs atremble and purple with rage,
stamping his feet and shrieking out threats to blow the Tengku from the mouth of
a cannon.
16
Then we see him writhing with embarrassment and completely humiliated
in the presence of Lord Minto. Is this a Tajus-Salatin inspired interpretation of
Rafes? I visualise our narrator rubbing his hands with glee as he afrms his
conviction that Rafes would rather have lost $10,000 than suffer this mortication
15
See further Sweeney 2005: 1114.
16
In the manuscript version of the hikayat, Rafes addresses the Pangeran and the Tengku as lu.
Sadly, this has been softened in the printed edition! Otherwise, the latter enhances the original,
introducing new information such as, Maka adapun nama kerisnya itu Si Hijau.
2 3 6 I NDONE S I A AND T HE MAL AY WORL D
before his superiors. And then Abdullah has the splendid chutzpah to add one of his
Nasihat passages, drawing out the moral to be learnt from Rafess supposed
negligence!
17
It seems that this tale earns Abdullah another rst: it is the rst modern
detective story in Malay, with a splendid twist. The happy ending is for the narrator
alone. If we treat this piece as a work of ction, it moves the stigma of eavesdropping
to a ctional 14 year old. However, had Abdullah signalled that the piece was ction,
we might be more convinced that he understood the demands of British fair play. But
of course, that would nullify the thorn.
Still, this tale was well counterbalanced by others extolling Rafess guile and all
round one-upmanship. An example is his divining the underlying meaning of the
letter from the ruler of Siam, and his wily response, written by Abdullah, whose
role is not underplayed! However, Abdullahs approval of Rafess capacity for
duplicity should not be equated with unreserved moral endorsement. An example
of the bananas and thorns approach is Rafess devious approach to evicting the
Temenggung from his home:
Dengan berbagai2 nasihat! Maka sekaliannya itu adalah seperti perkataan Melayu:
Mulut disuap pisang dan pantat dikait onak. Maka bahawa sesungguhnya dalam
hati Tuan Rafes terlalu banyak kiran; hendak dihalaukannya nyata2, nescaya
kelihatanlah jahatnya kepada Temenggung.
There is no ambiguity here. If Rafes were to evict the Temenggung openly, his
jahat-ness would doubtless become evident to the Temenggung. I leave the translation
of jahat to the reader, as there are a hundred choices, some more damning than
others, but even the mildest will carry a negative connotation. There is a tendency
for commentators to read what they imagine Abdullah meant to write or ought to
have written, not what he actually wrote. Thus, Hills (1955: 155) translation,
But if the Temenggung perceived this he would take it badly does not at all
convey what Abdullah wrote. Hills dangerously normative tendencies extend to cri-
ticising Abdullahs language when it does not accord with his Malayan Civil Service
level Malay. For example, he labels Abdullahs use of pengapakan as clumsy and uni-
diomatic (Hill 1955: 277), whereas Abdullahs usage is perfectly ne. Hills attempt
to explain the meaning of the phrase and his translation of it are both erroneous.
18
An important way of offering criticism for those whose writing is monitored by
the powerful is simply to relate an incident without commentary. This is a device
much used in traditional Malay literature. Indonesian readers were familiar with this
approach during the Orde Baru period and well understood the interest in and seemingly
inordinate media coverage of Pinochets antics, and the execution of Nicolae Ceaus escu
17
Had this scene really happened, one may be sure that it would have found its way into Mintos
letters, for this was the kind of material which appealed to his sense of humour. One notes, too,
that Farquhar and the Tengku engaged in protracted correspondence during the 1820s (Gallop
1994: 155).
18
Hills arrogating to himself this ethos of superiority towards Abdullah is most repugnant. Those
were the days! It has to be pointed out, furthermore, that Hills translation contains many more
errors. The poor quality of much commentary on Abdullah derives from reliance upon Hills
translation. This is discussed in Karya Lengkap Abdullah bin Abdul Kadir Munsyi, vol. 3.
A MAN OF BANANAS AND T HORNS 2 3 7
in 1989. Abdullah also employed this device. When relating actions by Rafes which
he supported, Abdullah tended to give strong endorsement. For example, he was
emphatic in his approval of Rafess ban on gambling and on bearing weapons; likewise,
he thoroughly approved of Rafess proposal to have the children of the Sultan and
Temenggung schooled in Bengal. However, incidents which are related without
comment merit scrutiny, especially when they concern Muslim sensibilities.
The rst incident involves the treatment of the corpse of Sayid Yasin, the amok
who stabbed Farquhar and subsequently was killed by Farquhars son and a group of
sepoys. Rafes had the corpse of Sayid Yasin put in an iron cage and exposed to
public view. Abdullah well knew the sensitive nature of this affair, for the aftermath
was considerable and Sayid Yasins grave became a shrine and place of pilgrimage for
local Muslims. Overall in his hikayat, Abdullah shows little respect for the Sultan, but
here, Sultan Husein is shown as the honourable party, requesting Sayid Yasins body
that it might be given a decent Muslim burial. The incident occurred 20 years
before Abdullah completed his hikayat, so Abdullah was fully aware of the most
delicate aspects and chose not to ignore them. According to Hill (1955: 307) and
Miller (1941: 195), The ceremonial lustrations by the Sultan were calculated to
cause an upsurge of popular feeling, as indeed they did. One wonders how the
Sultans thought processes became so transparent to Hill! Sufce it to say that
Rafess treatment of a Muslim, a sayid no less, was seen as an abomination by
fellow Muslims. Abdullah does not shirk from depicting this in the most horric
terms: the corpse is left hanging for 10 to 15 days until only bones are left. Colonial
sources claim that it was taken down after but three days (Hill 1955: 307).
Wallahualam.
By way of contrast with the colonial spin-doctoring which noted that a man was
publicly gibbeted in chains after execution as late as 1832 in England (Hill 1955:
307), or that Rafes intended this as exemplary punishment (Wurtzburg 1954:
625), let us not dwell on the fact that this was not England and that punishment
is hardly apt for the already dead, but rather let us peruse the robust words of a
man with convictions, Abdullahs friend, J. T. Thomson (1874: 134):
The treatment of Syed Essens ( Yasins) body was a piece of impotent revenge,
which by its savageness and unmeaningness [sic] was calculated to create a
reaction in the amokers favour
Yet there is a further postscript to this episode. Earlier it was observed that Abdullahs
reportage was accepted as fact by colonial readers unless, inter alia, it portrayed
British behaviour in ways that did not accord with the British view of self. Of
course, such a notion as the British view seems to imply some nonsensical monolithic
weltanschauung, and that notion was demolished by Thomsons robustness. Yet there is
still hope for my contention! Thomson, who in his writing shows great sensitivity
towards Abdullahs arguments for Islam, suddenly, while commenting on this
episode, takes issue with Abdullahs prejudices and proclivities as a Mahomedan!
And what was the trigger for suddenly rejecting Abdullahs account? Well, Abdullah,
who claimed to have been present, indeed to have been the rst to come to
Farquhars aid, had the temerity to relate that the gathered Europeans stabbed and
2 3 8 I NDONE S I A AND T HE MAL AY WORL D
hacked Sayid Yasins corpse into a pulp until it was unrecognisable. Thomson bristles
(1874:134)
19
:
The barbarities that he ascribes to the British gentlemen composing the Euro-
pean residents, I may emphatically state as without foundation, and totally
inconsistent with their character. This has been a mere rumour of fanatics.
There is more! Skinner (1983: 327) quotes this last passage of Thomsons, but wrongly
imagines that Thomson is criticising Abdullah for his account of the manner in which
Rafes treated Sayid Yasins corpse. No, Thomson was criticising Rafes there!
The second example of criticism by selectivity has not enjoyed any measure of
the publicity generated by the Sayid Yasin episode. It, too, concerns desecration of
Muslim remains. Rafes informs the Temenggung that the land occupied by the
Malay cemetery is to be turned into a residential area. He requests that the Temeng-
gung remove the remains of the dead. On hearing this, the Temenggungs face changes
colour (berubah warna mukanya). As he takes no action, Rafes orders company con-
victs to clear and level the area. The bones of the dead are put into sacks and
thrown into the sea. Actually, no comment is needed here; the incident occurs
just three pages after the desecration of Sayid Yasins corpse, and the page after the
account of Rafess duplicity in attempting to evict the Temenggung. And if a cue
is needed, there is the internal audience: the Temenggungs face changing colour.
Abdullahs account of the founding of Singapore is a splendid piece of historical
ction, rich in detail and convincing in its development. Essentially, Farquhar is
given the credit, and well he deserves it in the context of this telling. With the
return to Melaka of the Dutch imminent, Farquhar takes it upon himself to nd a
new location for a settlement and, with the pretext of rescuing an English lady cap-
tured by pirates, sets sail. He reconnoitres Siak, Daik, the Karimuns and Johor. After
a brief respite in Melaka to delegate authority prior to the Dutch takeover, he
decides to sail for Singapore, as he has long been a friend of Tengku Long since
his Melaka days, and had apparently furnished him with a sum of money. It was at
that time that Tengku Long had promised to give over Singapore to the British. Fur-
thermore, on his rst trip, Farquhar had called at Riau to nalise the agreement with
Tengku Long. He now informs Rafes in Penang of his activities and Rafes contacts
his superiors in Bengal. Farquhar and Rafes are allowed to found a settlement but
they must bear all the initial expenses personally. As Rafes is otherwise occupied,
it is Farquhar who lands in Singapore and persuades the Temenggung to sign a provi-
sional treaty, prepared by Farquhar, having assured him that Tengku Long has
approved the surrender of Singapore to the British. Farquhar has tents erected and
a well dug. He then raises the British ag near the shore. He climbs what became
Government Hill, res off a twelve gun salute and raises another ag. The new settle-
ment then suffers a plague of rats and centipedes. The news of the new settlement is
19
I apologize beforehand, and acknowledge having already erased this footnote twice. However,
Thomsons words are too close to an outraged Monty Python denial I delighted in many years ago
to be ignored. So, for Nigel: I must emphatically state as without foundation, the outrageous
accusations of cannibalism in the Royal Navy. There have been absolutely no cases of cannibalism
for almost six months now.
A MAN OF BANANAS AND T HORNS 2 3 9
received in Melaka. Food and other merchandise is exported from Melaka despite a
Dutch ban, and eventually hundreds of people make their way to Singapore seeking
their fortune. Our narrator seems to have run ahead somewhat, for there is still no
sign of Rafes! Abdullah always had problems with chronology. Nevertheless it is
clear from the narrative that during the plague of rats, at least, Rafes has not yet
appeared on the scene. Abdullah is reserving Rafes a special place for his greatest
banana and thorn performance yet and Abdullahs thorny portrayal of it!
Abdullah provides a convincing account of Farquhars founding Singapore, pro-
vided that one does not allow referentiality too rm a foot in the door of historical
truth. There are, however, a few internal inconsistencies, perhaps deliberate. Rafes
seems to be all over the place during this episode; everywhere but Singapore! There
are mentions of him being in Penang, Melaka, Aceh, Bengkulu and Bengal, but it is
unclear where he is at any particular point in the narrative.
There is an apparent disjunction in this episode. During the plague of rats, it
becomes clear that the narrator is present. His rst mention is of a cat attacked by
rats at his house. Indeed, all the houses were full of rats. And in Tuan Farquhars
tent it was the same thing so that Farquhar issued an announcement that a bounty
would be offered for dead rats. Why is Farquhar still in a tent, when other inhabitants
are living in houses? Ah, slippage, the narrator is referring to a later period? But no,
there is no mistake about his claim to have been present during those rst days, for he
remarks that never before in his life had he seen rats caught by liming with sap. And
soon, the rats are all exterminated. However, a problem is that on page 212, Abdullah
states that he came to Singapore from Melaka with the Reverend Thomsen four
months after the founding of the settlement.
20
It would be convenient to imagine
that the I of the founding episode was a ctional eyewitness narrator, and that
Abdullah reassumed his own voice as narrator only later. Yet Abdullah would
surely not create and the average sane reader would not perceive such a shift
without some signal, and there is none. A more likely explanation is at hand: in
almost all his writing, there are two tendencies so strong that they become oper-
ational principles. Firstly, Abdullahs narrative regularly features him as one of the
dramatis personae, usually centre stage. Secondly, whether he was present or not at
an event, his account of it usually has the avour of eyewitness narrative. Conditioned
thus, it would be a mere literary tic to insert oneself as a participant in that narrative.
Of course, commentators reading this episode as intended to be historically accu-
rate have much to criticise! Hill (1955: 18), for example, declares that Abdullahs
omission of Rafes from the original landing is the most unhistorical blunder of
his whole book . . . and His version of the story is a garbled one. This criticism
could be valid only if Hill were able to establish that the biological Abdullahs
motivation was simply to produce an accurate account of what really happened.
Unfortunately, we have only his text, and it demonstrates that Abdullah rarely did
anything simply. Yet out there in the real world, it is absolutely inconceivable
that Abdullah, who mixed with all manner of Europeans for decades and even dis-
cussed Rafes with the Reverend North, could have been unaware that Rafes was
there at the landing, and so forth. So I shall not bristle with Thomson, but rather
20
It seems that this, too, was not true! The year 1822 was more likely. Abdullah would have still
been in Melaka if he were asked to design a seal there. See below.
2 4 0 I NDONE S I A AND T HE MAL AY WORL D
offer the suggestion that when Abdullah wrote his hikayat, he knew that, as the arche-
typal friend of Rafes, what he had to say about his friend would be taken seriously,
regardless of whatever games he might be playing, even if that included a founding of
Singapore less favourable to this Napoleon of the Straits. And to support me, I shall
soon produce the testimony of a man of the cloth.
Perhaps an aside is appropriate here to demonstrate Abdullahs admiration for the
devious little man capable of humbling the great. In the hikayat, that man is Abdul Kadir
bin Ahmad Sahib, a Muslim Indian of Melakan birth who so ingratiated himself with
Sultan Husein that they became like father and son or like husband and wife. The
Sultan was besotted with this rogue who had complete control over him. The
Sultans family and courtiers detested Abdul Kadir and attempts were made on his
life. The situation became so bad that the Sultan exiled himself to Melaka to be with
Abdul Kadir who had ed there for his life. The point here is that the Sultan elevated
him to the rank of Tengku Muda Abdul Kadir bin as-Sultan Husein Syah, and Abdul
Kadir requested Abdullah to design a royal seal for him. Despite Abdul Kadirs truly
outrageous reputation, Abdullah conceives an instant liking for him. They are very
much on the same wavelength! Abdullah smiles at the title for the seal and thinks to
himself, One man begets him but he calls someone else father. Abdul Kadir sees
the smile and simply says, We both understanding the meaning of that smile! This
display of, and play with, humility and earthiness clearly impresses Abdullah. Yes,
all those accusations may be true, but most important for Abdullah is the mans
truly silver tongue. His brilliant skill with words could never be possessed by a
Malay, only by a Keling (here, Chulia, MuslimIndian). So, be prepared for what follows!
Farquhar had founded Singapore but Rafes was needed to persuade Tengku Long
to give his consent, for it was he who was to become sultan. The relevant passage
(pp. 2056) just has to be quoted. Here is Abdullahs description of Rafess
blandishments:
Lalu bercakaplah Tuan Rafes pada masa itu dengan tersenyum2 simpul serta muka manis
dengan menunduk2kan kepalanya. Manisnya seperti laut madu. Maka pada masa itu jan-
gankan hati manusia, jikalau batu sekalipun pecah2lah oleh sebab menengarkan perka-
taannya itu serta dengan lemah lembut suaranya, seperti bunyi2an yang amat merdu akan
menghilangkan percintaan dan syak yang ada tersembunyi dalam perbendaharaan hati
manusia itu pun lenyaplah. Maka segala ombak waswas yang berpalu2an yang di atas
karang wasangka itu pun teduhlah. Maka poko angin yang amat kencang serta
dengan gelap gulita itu pun seperti ribut yang besar akan turun, bahawa sekaliannya
hilanglah sehingga teranglah cuaca. Maka bertiuplah angin yang lemah lembut, yang
terbit dari dalam taman mahabbat. Maka sekonyong2 terbitlah bulan purnama empat
belas hari bulan, gilang-gemilang cahaya sehingga kelihatanlah tulus ikhlas Tuan
Rafes akan Tengku Long itu. Maka dengan seketika juga bertukarlah dukacitanya itu
dengan sukacita. Maka berseri2lah cahaya mukanya. Maka setelah dikerling oleh
Tuan Rafes berubah warna mukanya, maka bangunlah Tuan Rafes dari kursinya
serta memegang tangan Tengku Long, dipimpinnya lalu dibawanya masuk ke dalam bili-
knya serta ditutupkannya pintu bilik itu.
This is a truly extraordinary passage, oozing with irony. The purple prose is pre-
cisely the owery style that Abdullah condemns out of hand. One need but
A MAN OF BANANAS AND T HORNS 2 4 1
consult his Kebodohan Puji2an yang Tersebut dalam Surat2 Kiriman Orang Melayu,
published in two versions of Ilmu Kepandaian Orang Eropah,
21
which was produced
in collaboration with Alfred North. Finally, North must have cracked a smile!
The phoney language reects the hypocrisy of Rafess blandishments.
However, when Rafes sees that his language has had the desired effect, the
tone changes. The sentence, Maka setelah dikerling oleh Tuan Rafes berubah
warna mukanya, maka bangunlah Tuan Rafes . . . is telling indeed. The word
kerling does not signify some kind of innocuous glance as Hill (1955: 303)
would have it.
22
It indicates a sidelong glance, cast when the viewer does not
wish to turn his face towards the viewed for whatever reason, and tends to
carry a negative connotation. Thus, here, kerling is a furtive sidelong glance cal-
culated not to be noticed by Tengku Long.
Lest there be those who are more convinced by European reports than Malay
texts, let us look again at Norths letter of November 1843. North remarks:
The account of Rafes labors in getting possession of the island of Singapore is
but a partial one; he told me he was afraid to write a full account, for fear the
English would be displeased to see Sir Stamfords underhanded doings brought to
light.
23
21
See Gallop (1994: 2335) for romanisations of both versions. See also Proudfoot (1993: 267)
for details about the Ilmu Kepandaian Orang Eropah.
22
To my knowledge, the only comment on the passage to date is a note by Hill (1955: 303) on the
phrase bulan purnama:
terbit-lah bulan pernama empat-belas hari bulan, a well known Malay metaphor for feminine
beauty. As used here, however, it does not sound too blatant a cliche . In this short allegorical
passage Abdullah tries to imitate the style of classical works like the Bustanus-Salatin (ca.
1638).
This is a disturbingly condescending comment, especially considering that Hill has no idea what
Abdullah is about! Does not sound too blatant a cliche ? It is meant to sound cliche d. Allegorical
passage? The Bustanus-Salatin contains no language which could remotely resemble a model
that Abdullah might be trying to imitate in this passage. Nuruddin must have turned in
his grave!
23
I would have much preferred it had Raimy Che -Ross (2002) not appropriated these materials
without acknowledgement and without my permission. I sent him my transcript of the letter
together with my comments on Rafess underhandedness and received his acknowledgement
dated 19th July, 1999: Norths letter arrived safe and sound Ive printed off a copy to
read. I also provided him with a xerox copy of the Houghton manuscript. It should further be
noted that a copy of the Thomson manuscript has been safely in the possession of the Malaysian
National Archives since the early 1980s. The issue of intellectual property rights is discussed in
Volume 3 of the Abdullah series.
The discovery of this letter was unorthodox, for in early 1999, I found it in a copy of the
Hikayat Abdullah made for the National Library of Malaysia by the Houghton Library, Harvard
University, some years previously. In the same year, Dr Ian Proudfoot carried out a survey of
the materials possessed by the Houghton Library and was able to examine the Houghton manu-
script of the Hikayat Abdullah. He subsequently made known his ndings (2000b). Both Proudfoot
and I were surely a tad surprised by our close to simultaneous discoveries! But he had the
original.
2 4 2 I NDONE S I A AND T HE MAL AY WORL D
North was Abdullahs employer and mentor. It was he who encouraged Abdullah
to embark on writing an autobiography. In outlining the materials he suggested
Abdullah address, he may conceivably have given himself more credit than deserved.
In quoting from the completed hikayat, he may have been relying more on Abdullahs
descriptions than on his own reading of the text.
24
But there is no reason to doubt
this report of his discussion with Abdullah about Rafess conduct.
It is my hope that this article may dispel the notion that Abdullah was mainly
a provider of lively descriptions dealing with everyday events, possessed a large
vocabulary, gave a faithful portrayal of his times, and hero-worshipped the
British in general and Rafes in particular. Abdullahs writing has fallen victim
to simplism. There has been little awareness of the constraints under which he
wrote. He was entirely free, indeed encouraged, to criticise Malay rulers. But
he was a British subject and his writing was monitored by the Europeans upon
whom his livelihood depended. Criticism close to home required complexity
and subtlety, and Abdullah became a master of them. Simplism was incapable
of appreciating this. Simplism was conditioned, so that Abdullahs writing was
approached not with a desire to read and learn but with an often condescending
pre-conviction that all was transparent and open to criticism for blunders,
cliche s, clumsy usages, and the like. Simplism lacked self-awareness of ignor-
ance and unjustied arrogance. The result of all this is that there emerged a ten-
dency not to read what Abdullah wrote but what he ought to have written, as has
been seen. Simplists conditioned by the Abdullah of convention will just know
that Rafess departure from Singapore was marked by a sad farewell from an
adoring populace. As Hill (1955: 1920) tells us,
Abdullah graphically describes the spontaneous outburst of grief and affection
that marked Rafess departure and the addresses of congratulation given him
by members of the various communities. A multitude of all races lined the
shore or sat in boats round his ship as it prepared to leave the harbour.
Now where was that again? Certainly not in the Hikayat Abdullah! Might the sub-
altern be read? Abdullah merely says in eight words that the Rafeses went down
to the boat that was to take them to their ship accompanied by people of all
races; who knows how many (diiringkan oleh orang segala bangsa, entah beberapa
banyak). Now that was a blunder, negating any possibility of interpreting what
Abdullah was about. The tumultuous farewell that Abdullah graphically describes
is for Farquhar, not Rafes. It ranges over ve pages! Ah, another thorn for the
Rafes posterior? Let us be aware that Abdullah is a creator here, not a mere
scribe jotting down events. Abdullah keeps the send off for Rafes a quiet and
private affair. The text reveals that his aim is to demonstrate the depth of
his relationship with Rafes. That being achieved, if the subsequent and
juxtaposed tumultuous and emotional farewell for Farquhar highlights the
24
For example, North quotes Abdullah as follows: Sir Stamford, I observed, was a man exceed-
ingly diligent in this worlds affairs, but seemed to care nothing for the world to come. This
passage is not found in any version of the Hikayat Abdullah.
A MAN OF BANANAS AND T HORNS 2 4 3
latters greater popularity, so be it. But Abdullahs main goal here is not to slight
Rafes; his target is Crawfurd, who is depicted as being amazed and feeling most
embarrassed for no one knew him, and he received no attention or respect. Yes,
creators are omniscient, too.
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